Finding Peace During Cancer Uncertainty: What I Can Control
Finding Peace During Cancer Uncertainty While Holding On to Hope
There comes a moment in almost every serious health journey when you realize there is nothing more you can do today.
The appointment is over.
The test has been ordered.
The blood has been drawn.
The MRI has been completed.
Now you wait.
If you're anything like me, your mind immediately wants to solve tomorrow's problems. You begin thinking about treatments, finances, your family, your job, and a hundred questions that don't have answers yet.
Before you know it, you've spent an entire day worrying about events that haven't even happened.
I understand that feeling because I've been there.
After my doctor called during what was supposed to be a relaxing Memorial Day weekend, I learned that imaging had found multiple masses that needed immediate attention.
I still didn't have a diagnosis.
But I knew my life had changed.
The six-hour drive back to West Virginia gave me hours to think about everything that could happen.
At first, my thoughts bounced from one frightening possibility to another.
Then I realized something important.
No amount of worrying was going to change the MRI.
No amount of fear was going to remove the masses.
No amount of overthinking was going to make the phone ring sooner or give my doctors answers they didn't have yet.
I couldn't control the outcome.
I could only control how I chose to walk through it.
We Often Try to Control What We Can't
When life feels uncertain, many of us respond by trying to control everything around us.
We search the internet.
We replay conversations with our doctors.
We analyze every word someone said.
We imagine every possible outcome.
We convince ourselves that if we just think hard enough, research long enough, or prepare for every possibility, we will somehow be ready for whatever comes next.
I understand that instinct.
Fear wants certainty.
But sometimes certainty isn't available yet.
And when we don't have answers, our minds can fill the empty spaces with possibilities that are much worse than the facts we actually know.
That can steal today's peace without changing tomorrow.
The National Cancer Institute notes that cancer can bring feelings of fear, worry, helplessness, and loss of control. It also encourages people to focus on things they can control, including participating in their healthcare, asking questions, keeping appointments, maintaining routines, and using their energy on what they can do in the present.
That idea became very important to me.
What Can I Control?
One of the most helpful questions I learned to ask myself was:
"What can I actually control today?"
The answer was surprisingly simple.
I could:
Keep my appointments.
Ask questions.
Gather information.
Pray.
Accept support from people who loved me.
Take care of my body as well as I could.
Rest when I needed to.
Talk with my family.
Write down what I needed to remember.
Make decisions based on the information I had.
Decide that fear would not make every decision for me.
Everything else would unfold one step at a time. I couldn't control what the next scan would show.
I couldn't control how quickly doctors would have answers.
I couldn't control what another person might say.
I couldn't control every financial problem.
I couldn't control whether something unexpected would happen.
But I could decide what I would do with today.
That was enough.
Acceptance Does Not Mean Giving Up
Finding peace during cancer uncertainty did not mean having all the answers. It meant learning to focus on what I could control and letting go of what I could not.
Some people hear the word acceptance and think it means surrender.
It doesn't.
For me, acceptance meant recognizing what was true in that moment.
I accepted that something serious might be happening.
I accepted that I couldn't change what the MRI showed.
I accepted that I didn't have all the answers yet.
But acceptance did not mean I stopped hoping.
It meant I stopped wasting all of my energy trying to control something that was outside my control.
Once I accepted what I couldn't change, I could put my energy toward what I could do.
I could pray.
I could ask questions.
I could show up.
I could listen.
I could make decisions.
I could accept help.
I could take the next step.
That was not giving up.
That was making peace with reality while still holding on to hope.
You Can Be Afraid and Still Have Hope
Peace doesn't mean pretending you're never afraid.
I cried.
I prayed.
I asked questions.
I worried.
I had moments when I felt overwhelmed.
Those emotions didn't mean I lacked faith.
They meant I was human.
There were moments when I had to remind myself that being afraid didn't mean I had to stop moving forward.
I could be scared and still make the next appointment.
I could cry and still make a decision.
I could wonder whether I was going to live and still hope that I would.
I could recognize the seriousness of what was happening without allowing fear to take away every moment I still had.
The National Cancer Institute explains that people may experience many different emotions during cancer, and that there is no single right way to cope. Some people turn to loved ones, counselors, support groups, or faith and spiritual communities for support.
For me, faith became an important part of how I moved forward.
Faith Gave Me Somewhere to Put My Fear
There were questions I couldn't answer.
There were things I couldn't fix.
There were outcomes I couldn't control.
So I talked to God.
I didn't pray because I believed prayer would magically erase what was happening.
I prayed because I needed somewhere to take my fear.
I needed strength for the things I couldn't carry by myself.
Sometimes my prayers were full of hope.
Sometimes they were full of questions.
Sometimes they were simply:
"God, help me get through this."
That was enough.
Faith did not mean I never felt afraid.
It gave me a place to bring my fear.
And when I couldn't see the entire road ahead, I learned to ask for enough strength to take the next step.
Don't Try to Live Tomorrow Today
One of the hardest lessons during a medical crisis is learning not to live too far ahead.
Your mind may jump from:
"I need another test."
to:
"What if it's cancer?"
Then:
"What treatment will I need?"
Then:
"What will happen to my family?"
Then:
"What if I die?"
Before you know it, you're emotionally living through an entire future that hasn't happened.
I understand that because I did it too.
But eventually I had to remind myself:
I am living today.
Tomorrow hasn't happened.
The next appointment hasn't happened.
The next test hasn't happened.
The next conversation hasn't happened.
I could prepare for tomorrow without allowing tomorrow to consume today.
Focus on the Next Right Step
When everything feels overwhelming, I ask:
"What is the next right step?"
Not the next ten steps.
Not next year's decisions.
Just the next one.
Maybe it's:
Going to the appointment.
Getting the bloodwork.
Having the scan.
Calling a family member.
Writing down questions.
Taking prescribed medication.
Getting some rest.
Eating something.
Praying.
Asking for help.
Sometimes the next step seems incredibly small.
That doesn't make it unimportant.
A journey through cancer is made up of thousands of small steps.
You don't have to see the entire road before you can take the next one.
Limit Information Overload
When you're frightened, searching for information can feel like you're doing something productive.
Sometimes it is.
Information can help you understand your diagnosis, prepare questions, and participate more confidently in medical decisions.
But there is a difference between becoming informed and becoming overwhelmed.
I learned that I couldn't read every story.
I couldn't research every possibility.
I couldn't compare my situation with every person on the internet.
Another person's cancer is not necessarily my cancer.
Another person's treatment isn't necessarily my treatment.
Another person's outcome isn't necessarily my outcome.
I needed reliable information about my situation from people who actually knew my medical history.
The National Cancer Institute recommends becoming informed, asking your healthcare team questions, and using reliable information to help you feel more in control.
That is very different from allowing the internet to become my doctor.
Stay Connected
Don't isolate yourself if you don't have to.
Cancer can make you want to withdraw.
Sometimes you don't want to explain how you're feeling.
Sometimes you're tired of answering:
"How are you doing?"
Sometimes you don't even know how you're doing.
But having trusted people beside you can make a tremendous difference.
That might be:
Your children.
Your spouse or partner.
A sibling.
A friend.
A church member.
A prayer partner.
A support group.
A counselor.
Another cancer survivor.
You don't have to give everyone every detail.
Sometimes you simply need someone who will sit with you.
Someone who will listen.
Someone who will pray with you.
Someone who will drive you to an appointment.
Someone who will make dinner.
Someone who will remind you that you are not alone.
Keep Some Normalcy in Your Life
Cancer can quickly become your entire calendar.
Doctors.
Tests.
Bloodwork.
Scans.
Prescriptions.
Phone calls.
Insurance.
Treatment.
Side effects.
Follow-up appointments.
Sometimes the best thing you can do emotionally is allow yourself to still be a person outside of your medical appointments.
Watch television.
Listen to music.
Spend time with your family.
Sit outside.
Read.
Write.
Cook.
Laugh.
Go somewhere if your healthcare team says it's safe.
Do something that reminds you that your identity is bigger than your diagnosis.
The National Cancer Institute notes that continuing meaningful activities and routines can help some people adjust to cancer and maintain a sense of normalcy and control.
Cancer became part of my life.
It did not become the only part of my life.
Take Care of the Body You Have Today
When you're worried about the future, it's easy to forget about today.
But today still needs you.
Rest when you need to rest.
Eat when you can.
Drink enough fluids according to your healthcare team's guidance.
Take your medications as prescribed.
Move your body when your healthcare team says it's appropriate.
Keep your appointments.
Tell your healthcare team about symptoms or concerns.
These things don't guarantee a particular outcome.
They are simply ways of caring for yourself while you move through uncertainty.
What Can I Control?
When I feel overwhelmed, I try to separate my problems into two categories.
Things I Can Control
I can control whether I show up.
I can control whether I ask questions.
I can control whether I keep my information organized.
I can control whether I ask for help.
I can control how I communicate.
I can control whether I take time to rest.
I can control whether I pray.
I can control whether I give myself permission to feel what I'm feeling.
I can control what I choose to focus on today.
Things I Cannot Control
I cannot control another person's behavior.
I cannot control every test result.
I cannot control every medical decision.
I cannot control whether insurance approves something.
I cannot control how quickly another person responds.
I cannot control the future.
I cannot control everything that happens to my body.
Recognizing the difference doesn't make the uncontrollable things disappear.
But it can help me stop spending all of my energy trying to control them.
Sometimes Peace Looks Like Surrendering the Question
There were questions I desperately wanted answered.
Am I going to live?
How much time do I have?
What will treatment be like?
Will I be able to work?
What will happen to my family?
What will my life look like?
I wanted certainty.
But certainty wasn't available.
Eventually, I had to surrender some of those questions.
Not because they didn't matter.
They mattered tremendously.
But because I couldn't answer them yet.
I could only live the part of the story I had reached.
That became one of the hardest and most important lessons of my cancer journey.
What I Wish Someone Had Told Me
I wish someone had told me that peace isn't something you necessarily find after all your questions are answered.
Sometimes you have to pursue peace while you're still waiting.
I wish someone had told me that I could be afraid and still have faith.
I wish someone had told me that crying didn't mean I was weak.
I wish someone had told me that asking for help didn't mean I couldn't handle my own life.
I wish someone had told me that I didn't have to make every decision immediately.
I wish someone had told me that I didn't have to live through every possible future in my imagination.
Most of all, I wish someone had told me:
You don't have to control the entire outcome to take the next step.
When Worry Becomes Too Much
There is a difference between having understandable fear during a medical crisis and feeling so overwhelmed that anxiety begins interfering with daily life.
If worry is making it difficult to sleep, work, maintain relationships, complete necessary activities, or participate in your medical care, talk with your healthcare provider.
You don't have to handle emotional distress alone.
Your healthcare team may be able to connect you with a counselor, social worker, mental-health professional, support group, or spiritual-care professional.
The National Cancer Institute explains that cancer-related distress can range from normal adjustment difficulties to more serious emotional problems and that professional and social support can help people cope.
The American Cancer Society also provides information about anxiety, depression, distress, and loneliness related to cancer.
Seeking help is not a failure.
It is another way of taking care of yourself.
Questions to Ask Yourself
When everything feels out of control, I may ask:
What am I worrying about that hasn't happened?
What facts do I actually know today?
What assumptions am I making?
What is the next step I need to take?
What can I do today?
What is outside my control?
Who can I reach out to?
What would help me feel supported right now?
Am I giving myself permission to rest?
What am I thankful for today?
These questions don't solve every problem.
But they can help separate fear from facts.
Hope Does Not Require Certainty
I used to think hope meant believing everything would turn out exactly the way I wanted.
My cancer journey taught me something different.
Hope can exist even when the future is uncertain.
Hope can mean believing there is still something worth living for.
Hope can mean looking forward to another birthday.
Another family gathering.
Another grandchild's milestone.
Another ordinary morning.
Another opportunity to help someone.
Another day.
Hope doesn't require me to know exactly what tomorrow will bring.
It simply reminds me that tomorrow is worth reaching.
Hope for Today
Life will always include seasons we cannot control.
An unexpected diagnosis.
A frightening phone call.
A difficult medical test.
A loved one's illness.
A financial setback.
A broken relationship.
A future we didn't plan for.
We cannot choose every circumstance.
But we can choose how we respond.
Looking back over the years, I realize that my greatest source of strength wasn't having all the answers.
It was learning to take one faithful step at a time.
When I couldn't see the whole road, I took the next step.
When I couldn't control the outcome, I gave that outcome to God.
When I was afraid, I prayed.
When I needed help, I reached out.
When I didn't know what tomorrow would bring, I lived the best I could with what I had today.
If you're facing uncertainty right now, remember this:
You don't need tomorrow's strength today.
You need enough strength for today.
Tomorrow will bring its own questions.
And, I pray, its own grace.
I'd Love to Hear From You
What has helped you find peace during a difficult season?
Was there a verse, a person, a prayer, a habit, or a lesson that carried you through?
Your story may become the encouragement someone else needs today.
Frequently Asked Questions
Is it possible to feel both fear and hope at the same time?
Yes. Fear and hope can exist together. Feeling afraid does not mean you have lost hope. People facing cancer may experience many different emotions, sometimes changing from day to day or even hour to hour.
How can I cope when I can't control my cancer outcome?
Start by identifying what you can control today. This may include attending appointments, asking questions, gathering reliable information, maintaining routines when possible, accepting support, and taking care of yourself according to your healthcare team's guidance.
Does acceptance mean I'm giving up?
No. Acceptance can simply mean recognizing what is true right now. You can accept that you don't have all the answers while continuing to hope, seek treatment, pray, ask questions, and move forward.
What if I can't stop worrying about my cancer?
Some worry is understandable during a serious health situation. However, if anxiety or distress begins interfering with sleep, relationships, daily activities, or medical care, talk with your healthcare provider. Counseling, support groups, and other professional resources may help.
Can faith help me cope with cancer?
Faith and spirituality can be an important source of support for some people. The National Cancer Institute notes that some people turn to faith or spiritual communities as they cope with cancer.
Faith may look different for every person. For me, prayer became one of the ways I found strength when I couldn't control what was happening.
Find Your Community
No one should have to face life's challenges alone. At Surviving Life Lessons, we believe in life survivors helping life strugglers. Explore our growing Community Groups to connect with others who understand your journey, share encouragement, and find hope through meaningful conversations. You'll also have the opportunity to introduce yourself and share your own story of overcoming. Your story matters. It may be the encouragement someone else needs to keep moving forward, reminding them that they are not alone and that hope is always possible.
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References
National Cancer Institute -“Emotions and Cancer” National Cancer Institute - “Emotions and Cancer”
National Cancer Institute - “Adjusting to Cancer” National Cancer Institute - “Adjusting to Cancer”
National Cancer Institute - “Adjustment to Cancer: Anxiety and Distress (PDQ®)–Patient Version”National Cancer Institute - “Adjustment to Cancer: Anxiety and Distress”
American Cancer Society - “Mental Health and Distress”American Cancer Society -“Mental Health and Distress”
National Institute of Mental Health - “I'm So Stressed Out! Infographic”National Institute of Mental Health - “I'm So Stressed Out! Infographic”
CancerCare - Support Groups and CounselingCancerCare - Support Groups
Foundation for Women's Cancer - Educational Materials Foundation for Women's Cancer -Educational Materials
About the Author:
Deborah Ann Martin is the founder of Surviving Life Lessons, a published author, poet, speaker, and trainer with over 20 years of management experience across multiple industries. An MBA graduate, U.S. veteran, single mother, and rare cancer survivor, Deborah brings both professional expertise and lived experience to her writing on resilience, leadership, personal growth, and overcoming adversity. Her mission is to empower others with practical wisdom and real-life insight to navigate life’s challenges with strength and purpose.
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