Should You Tell Your Family When You’re Sent for Cancer Tests? My Honest Experience
Deciding whether to tell your family when you’re first sent for cancer tests is incredibly personal. There’s no right answer, no universal rule, and no two situations are ever the same. All we can do is make the best decision we can with the information we have at the time.
This is my story, not a guide, not a prescription, just an honest account of how I handled it, and what I learned along the way about timing, support, and sharing difficult news.
Why I Chose Not to Tell Them
When I first noticed a small patch of thickened skin on one breast, I didn’t think much of it. I’m in my 50s, post-menopausal, and I assumed it was something harmless, a cyst, a fatty lump, just one of those changes that come with age.
At my routine mammogram I mentioned it, filled in a quick form, and went back to life as normal. My thinking was simple: Why worry my family unnecessarily? Many people struggle with whether to tell family about medical tests, and at that point I felt confident waiting for results before saying anything.
The Letter That Changed Everything
My mammogram was at the end of April. On Saturday 21 June, just as we were about to fly to Crete for our annual holiday, I received a letter asking me to come back for further breast cancer investigations.
That was the first moment I thought, Oh… maybe this isn’t nothing.
I called the hospital, explained we were going away for two weeks, and they reassured me it was fine to reschedule. So we went on holiday and had a wonderful time, and I’m still grateful for that.
The Tests
When I returned, I went to the breast clinic on 9 July for more tests. The biopsies were painful, but again, I didn’t tell my family. I still believed there was nothing to worry about. No lumps, no obvious signs, just tiredness and middle age catching up with me.
Looking back, this was the stage where many people start wondering when to tell family about cancer investigations, but I still felt sure it was nothing serious.
The Diagnosis I Never Expected
A week later I went back for my results. The hospital hadn’t suggested bringing anyone, so I assumed that meant everything was fine. I even sat in the waiting room frustrated that the consultant was running late — I could have been getting on with work.
Then I walked in and heard the words no one ever wants to hear: You have breast cancer.
Invasive Lobular Carcinoma. No obvious lumps. Fast-track scans. More tests. More waiting.
I was in shock, but I didn’t let myself feel it. A close relative had been admitted to hospital the night before, so I rushed through the meeting with the Macmillan nurse and went straight there. I didn’t tell my husband. I didn’t tell anyone.
This is the moment where the question “Should I have told my family earlier?” really should have begun to echo in my mind. But it did not I was still compartmentalising and pushing everything to one side.
Telling My Husband
My husband is a chef and wasn’t off work until Friday. I didn’t want him to hear this news and then have to go straight back into a busy kitchen, so I decided to wait.
But the next evening, when he walked through the door, I couldn’t hold it in. I fell apart. The words tumbled out. And then, to protect him, I minimised everything — It’ll be fine, just surgery, maybe chemo, maybe radiotherapy, a year and done.
I didn’t yet understand the cancer I had. I just wanted to shield him from the fear I was drowning in.
Many people talk about the emotional weight of sharing a cancer diagnosis with family, and I felt that weight all at once.
Telling the Rest of My Family
Once he knew, we told our son, then my mum, then my sisters. It was heartbreaking to see the impact on them, but it also brought us closer. I wish cancer hadn’t been the thing to do that, but life doesn’t always give us the choices we want.
Would I Do Anything Differently?
Yes. I would tell my husband straight away. He has been my oak tree through every appointment since, and I should have leaned on him sooner.
But do I regret not telling everyone before our holiday? No. We had a beautiful time, and I wouldn’t take that away from any of us.
This experience taught me that deciding when to tell family about cancer tests is deeply personal — but telling someone is important.
My Advice
Tell someone. Anyone. You don’t have to carry this alone. If you don’t feel able to talk to family or friends, Macmillan is there. And if you want to message me, please do. I’m still on this journey myself, and no one should walk it unsupported.
Macmillan Support Line (free): 0808 808 00 00
Open 7 days a week, 8am–8pm
What I learned later
The thickened area I ignored turned out to be a sign of Invasive Lobular Breast Cancer — a type that often hides in plain sight.
Read: Understanding Invasive Lobular Breast Cancer: A Survivor’s Insight
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