I recall my first visit. I first met with my surgeon, who was distant and to the point. He immediately did a breast exam and proceeded to tell me what the treatment plan would be for me. I started to shake, sitting across from him. He felt bad and held my hands, “this is serious but we’re going to treat you to get the best outcome possible, don’t worry,” he said. My surgeon was very kind to me. He was also very competent. I remember him asking the nurse to contact a counselor so I’d have someone to talk to. That counselor came to meet me right away after I was done with my consultation.
Then, for my first oncology visit, I initially met with a medical resident. I thought that was odd, considering it was my first time meeting with my oncologist for such an important appointment. At the same time, this also gave me the impression that perhaps my case was not too serious. However, the resident was a bit too dramatic for me. She took long pauses between words as she drew little images of cells on a piece of paper, “so…this is…your…cell…and this is…your cancer…” She was showing me the survival rates if I opted to take chemo, Tamoxifen and radiation as my treatment regimens. She then proceeded to show me how Tamoxifen binds with the receptors so cells won’t feed from the estrogen – all done through her amateurish drawings. I already knew I was taking all the necessary treatments for my cancer. And where was my oncologist?
I wanted a hug.
Eventually, my oncologist came into the room. From the start, Dr. O was very formal and by the book. She immediately spoke about research and statistics and explained how treatments were going to benefit my case. And I was just sitting there with my head tilted, staring at her, without really understanding what those research numbers meant for my situation. And at that point I did not care. I had already focused on the 86% 5-year survival rate the resident had given me if I took all possible treatments. I couldn’t deal with anything else at that moment. Dr. O. was very competent but I got no hugs on my first consultation.
After several visits, I decided I would try to get my oncologist to be more affectionate with me, even if this was risky for her. I started by giving Dr. O a hug at the end of each consultation. Then, eventually, I started welcoming her with open arms as she entered the room, “Dr. O, so good to see you!” and she would reciprocate. Now she’ll playfully say things like, “Where is she? Where is she?! There she is!” as she enters the examination room. And yes, we hug, always. It feels good. Now the experience feels more human to me. I feel less tense and less afraid.
I continue to see my radiation doctor. Everything about this experience has been very “robotic” and emotionally draining— more so than chemo. It has been hard for me to get close to Dr. R. She is very serious and just takes care of business. I’ve tried getting her to be more warm after all these years, and sometimes I’ve managed to make her laugh with my jokes. Who would have thought I could joke in an oncology room? But there is one thing I appreciate about her. She is very flexible with my care, which is why I enjoy seeing her once a year. I’ve told her about my desire to build a family, and out of all the doctors I’ve seen she has encouraged me the most. Dr. R feels very confident about my situation and always encourages me to have quality of life, even if it means I stop taking Tamoxifen. Next time I see her, I am going to hug Dr. R, whether she is emotionally ready or not.
I guess you can say I have a good balance among all my oncology doctors. They all contribute to my physical and emotional care, one way or another. I am truly grateful for every one of them.
I can’t completely disregard the feelings of these oncology doctors. I am sure there’s a reason why my cancer hospital is so formal. What happens there is very serious. These doctors lose patients all the time. It must be tough for them too, which is why they don’t personally get too close to their patients. I still don’t know how they do it, but their jobs are very important and necessary. They also need to be kind to themselves in order to keep performing their responsibilities. But I must tell you, a hug can make a big difference in a patient’s care. Maybe I am asking for too much.
How would you describe your relationship with your Oncologist(s)?