One of the most common things people say to someone going through cancer is "let me know if you need anything." And while the intention is beautiful, the reality is that most people will never take you up on that offer. When you're exhausted, scared, and overwhelmed, figuring out what to ask for — and then actually asking — feels like one more impossible task. The most helpful people are those who simply act.
Food is always welcome. Organize a meal train with friends and family. Drop off meals that are easy to reheat. Include disposable containers so they don't have to worry about returning dishes. Stock their pantry with simple snacks, drinks, and comfort foods. If you're unsure about dietary restrictions, just ask once and note it down.
Help with daily logistics. Offer to pick up groceries, run errands, take their car for service, pick up prescriptions, or handle a load of laundry. These everyday tasks become mountains when someone is managing treatment schedules, side effects, and emotional exhaustion. Taking one thing off their plate can feel like a gift.
Be the appointment buddy. Treatment days are long, boring, and anxiety-inducing. Offer to drive them, sit with them during infusions, take notes during doctor appointments (it's hard to absorb information when you're scared), and keep them company in waiting rooms.
Help with kids and pets. If the family has children, offer to pick them up from school, supervise homework, take them to their activities, or have them over for a playdate. If there are pets, offer to walk the dog or help with feeding routines. These are concrete, specific acts of service that make a tangible difference.
Handle the communication burden. With permission, offer to be the designated update person. Create a group text or email chain so the patient or primary caregiver doesn't have to repeat the same information dozens of times. This is one of the most underappreciated forms of help.
Don't forget the long game. Most support floods in during the first weeks after diagnosis and then gradually disappears. But cancer treatment can last months or even years. The person who shows up three months in with a home-cooked meal is a hero. Set a reminder on your phone to check in regularly — not just in the beginning, but throughout the entire journey.
Small gestures carry enormous weight. A handwritten note, a funny meme, a photo of a good memory, a delivered coffee, a cleaned kitchen — none of these require grand effort, but each one says: I see you, I care, you are not forgotten.
The best help is the help that actually arrives. Don't wait for a request. Just show up.