“I don’t like this forest”, said Dorothy
“I think it will get darker before it gets lighter”, said
the Scarecrow
Clinicians gather to seek each others opinions as to how to
best support our patients. Often I receive consult requests from physicians. When
I reply we talk about the patient, their clinical status but more than that,
their personal situation. My next step is to meet the patient, their family
and friends. Other times I meet people as I round in the treatment areas and
inpatient floors.
Different diseases and their treatments often have a range
of physical responses. The staff may ask a patient of they are experiencing
symptoms such as pain, nausea, feeling tired, tenderness in a part of their
body etc. or what is called “brain fog”. There may be transportation issues or
the inability to perform necessary daily tasks. Our departments of social work
and our navigators have an amazing range of knowledge and are a tremendous
resource as well.
Patients may share with me that they don’t like the side
effects however the staff are balancing them with medications or other
suggestions. No one likes this forest. And it may get darker before it gets
lighter as the scarecrow remarked. My support piece is to gather the parts of
your experience that you may not be able to tell anyone else. Other times I have
the profound joy of celebrating good news with you.
This week I was in conversation with numerous clinicians and
other medical professionals discussing how we could make our patients feel
better as they navigated their treatments. We also discussed what might make
the experience easier.
Working in Radiation Oncology these last months has given me
an additional view of what courage looks like. Courage looks like a patient
whose spouse abandoned them and they come for treatment alone. Courage looks like
overcoming panic. Courage looks like walking through the doors every day for 6
weeks. Courage looks like putting make-up on and a smile, and comforting the
other patients as you wait for your own radiation. Courage is celebrating your
last treatment with the staff. Courage is as varied as every person walking
into our treatment center. I truly respect every one of you and am grateful you
let me get to know you.
This week I was particularly moved by the courage it takes
for not only the patients but their families and friends. Each of them “have to
stay stay strong”, “can’t let him see me cry”, “what are ya gonna do?” every
day.
I therefore ask YOU who are reading this. How could we as clinicians
make this experience easier for you? One person said her reply was always help with
kindness. I believe we do. What in a practical way would make your experience
easier or better? No suggestion is too minor! One patient’s wife was concerned
about parking so I consulted with our valet parking company to see if they
could add additional staff on the days when Rad/Onc is the busiest. That is
only one example.
I ask you to think and share. Is it the rooms’ paint color?
Music? Privacy? Simple things or large requests I ask you to be open and creative.
Please let me know. We cannot change the fact of cancer but possibly we may be
able to make the road back out of the forest a less stressful and easier journey.
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