WHY I AM AN ONCOLOGIST

This weekend, I was deeply saddened to hear news about three individuals close to us whose lives were affected by cancer. The father-in-law of a dear, old friend had experienced a recurrence of his cancer and was now on hospice; the mother of one of Nicholas' friends had been diagnosed with a large ovarian tumor; and one of Cate's good friends had just undergone surgery to remove a brain tumor. To say that I was stunned would be an understatement, but my feelings pale in comparison to what those families are feeling tonight.

Caring for patients with cancer has been a central part of my life for the past 17 years. Therefore, it feels very strange to not have seen a patient in clinic since we moved in July. Thankfully, I am set to start clinic again in January, and I will resume patient care hungry to meet new families and to try and make a difference in their lives.

When I heard the news from our friends of their cancer stories, I felt a sense of duty to reach out and to try to help in any way I could. Being an oncologist to me means providing comfort, information, and solace while one is prescribing treatment and even more so when treatment is no longer effective or safe. This is the only way I know how to practice medicine, and it is what I wish for every cancer patient, even if they are not my own.

Just like a friend or a loved one, it is a privilege to get to know patients and to try to win their trust. Often this does not come easily because patients often feel poorly or have had bad experiences with the medical system. Our job is to right those wrongs and to help patients and families achieve small victories that allow them to forget about their cancer - at least for a little while. In short, it is our job to try to help give patients back what the cancer has taken away.

I will remember this weekend for a long time. It is a reminder that life is until further notice and that there is no greater cause than being there for the ones one loves. These are lessons that I will take to my grave, and I can only hope that the doctor who comes to be my caretaker learns that lesson along the way.