More in Common Than We Realize: Shared Lessons from Cancer, ALS, PSP, and Far too many other Cruel Diseases to name

“Everything can be taken from a person but one thing: the last of the human freedoms – to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.”  –  Viktor Frankl

Introduction 

While fundraising platforms, medical professionals, and pharmaceutical companies often highlight the differences between disease “brands,” for patients and caregivers, there is far more in common than there is different. The emotional, physical, and practical challenges unite us from the moment we hear those terrible words at diagnosis.

From my experience, I’ve learned that despite the differences, the emotional and practical challenges share striking common ground. (This hit home recently through conversations with a friend and her caregiver husband, who are navigating a very similar situation in many ways – but with a different condition entirely.)

For context, I live with PSP (Progressive Supranuclear Palsy), a neurological degenerative condition. Statistically, my theoretical life expectancy is in the low single-digit years. But my faith helps me see beyond this rough, impersonal calculation and focus on what truly matters: living fully in the time I have.

From these reflections, five pillars stand out as universal and transformative:

1. Attitude

Frankl’s words ring true: even when everything else is stripped away, we still control how we respond. I could dread every meal because of restrictions and risks (I’m on non-textured, not-too-liquid products – think purees that aren’t quite soup – as I’m one step away from a feeding tube), or I could cherish it as a chance to laugh and connect with loved ones. Staying positive is hard – but it’s powerful, even when facing a terminal condition.

2. Support

The caregiver’s journey is as grueling as the patient’s. True support demands patience, sacrifice, and the willingness to put someone else first. Beyond caregivers, the wider circle of family and friends matters immensely. Gratitude for this support often defies words.

3. Make Plans – but Focus on the Now

Planning matters – whether for treatment, life’s final chapters or the financial steps required to ensure care and the well-being of your family in the future – but it shouldn’t consume all your energy. I’ve learned that while preparing for what’s ahead is necessary (like mapping out adaptive tools for mobility or advance care discussions), living in the present is what truly sustains me.

Enjoy the moments. Prioritize them. Don’t dwell exclusively on the past or obsess over the future. Although impossible to measure precisely, I’d say 90% of my time now is focused on the present – and that shift has been life-changing.

For those of us with PSP, where there’s no treatment and outcomes can feel overwhelming, this mindset is vital. Each day brings its own mix of good and bad, but choosing to be mindful – to savor laughter, connection, and small joys – makes the journey more bearable and meaningful.

4. Faith

For me, faith is a lifeline. Believing that my path has meaning – even if I don’t understand it – gives me strength. For those without faith, other sources of resilience exist, and I respect that. But for me, trusting that there’s a purpose beyond my comprehension brings peace.

5. Humor

This might sound trivial, but humor is a powerful antidote to despair. If we don’t laugh, we cry – and laughter, even in small doses, lightens the heaviest burdens. It can’t be forced, but when it comes, it’s healing.

Closing Thoughts & Call to Action 

One of my kids and I were talking over the weekend about how well I’m coping, given the shock of learning I have a terminal condition. Still, it’s hard – everything has changed: work, travel, ability, capability.

While I advocate for awareness and funding for PSP, I also support causes tied to other conditions. (This piece was prompted by a donation to my friend’s charity, a reminder of how these journeys overlap.) Because at the heart of it, despite medical classifications, the patient and caregiver experience is strikingly similar. And in that shared humanity, we find strength.

Do you agree with these five pillars? 

Have you found other common threads that make a difference in your journey – or in supporting someone you love? Share your thoughts and experiences in the comments. Let’s learn from each other and make these conversations more visible.

My audience is PSP-dominated, so please share more widely if you can – let’s bridge these worlds and amplify the voices that need it most. For caregivers seeking a deeper dive into navigating these shared challenges from a patient’s perspective, here’s my guide: Navigating a Terminal Illness: A Patient’s View for Caregivers