My mom was so used to her breast lumps being benign, that she went in alone for the biopsy results, only to have the surgeon who lived up to every negative stereotype about his specialty say, "Well, it's cancer" the way a normal person might share that it has started raining.
For the metastases, we all knew what the results were going to be, so my dad, or both of us, went with her for emotional support both times and this time around my dad goes with her to all oncology appointments (well, now they're over the phone).
When we went to a local steakhouse to celebrate her 10-year anniversary of being cancer free, I was quite particular about what booth I wanted. The server asked if we were celebrating anything, so we told her and she was congratulatory, saying dessert was on her. At the end of the meal, the manager came over and said the whole meal was on the house and they looked forward to hosting us on the 15-year anniversary. Her first metastasis came a month shy of the 14-year mark, so we didn't get to do that, but it was a lovely gesture (we weren't regulars; my parents would go for a random night out maybe once a year, and I did the same with a friend, and then my family came in for scattered special occasions).