What My Oncologist Fails To See

In one form or another, I have been in the communications business since college, both as an on-air talent and later as an adjunct communications lecturer at several universities. My career path eventually led to corporate communications and public relations. To say I understand the need for and accuracy of communications, especially in today's world, would be an accurate assumption.

When my first cancer diagnosis came crashing into my life, I was thrown off course. It took months to adjust to the new reality, and I had to learn how to communicate what I was facing. I had not planned this; it was not supposed to happen. After all, I did everything right, from following a proper diet to regular exercise and regular medical checkups. Yet here it was, and like it or not, I had to accommodate this new and unwelcome thing in my life and explain it to family, friends, and the questioning medical types.

Physicians who could not communicate

In a matter of weeks, I found myself in the hands of more medical professionals than I had experienced in my lifetime. Despite the many extraordinary and impressive clinical skills most of these men and women possessed, their skills accounted for nothing regarding their ability to communicate effectively. Let me offer examples:

Dealing with insensitivity

While writhing in pain in the emergency room of the large regional hospital for more than 7 hours, one medical professional announced at 4 am I should get my affairs in order as it appeared from a scan that I was facing advanced pancreatic cancer. The conversation took under 3 minutes. He left me stunned, saying the nurse would get my necessary paperwork. Clearly, this MD  never learned the power of or need for carefully choosing his words. Never mind his total disregard for nonverbal signals.

It was clear he was pressed for time. He made it clear by his physical presence that there was no need for compassion or empathy. I was a non-person in a hospital gown who needed to hear numerous medical facts. He gave no thought to how he was organizing or structuring the information he presented. He had no appreciation for the impact of his message. When I tried to ask a brief question, it became clear that he was not listening as he played back the same litany of medical jargon. Fortunately, it turned out his diagnosis was wrong.

Dealing with dismissal

In another incident, I was waiting outside the office of the chief of oncology at a regional hospital in Connecticut. He was making calls to newly diagnosed patients. What caught my attention was the rapidity of his assembly line communication style. I soon realized he was not engaging patients with this devastating information but rather processing them through the treatment system, ending conversations by asking, “Do you prefer surgery, chemotherapy, radiation? There was not an ounce of humanity in the man’s voice. I could not imagine how he would interact and operate on other patients in the next few hours.

Lack of communications ability

I recently met with another oncology head at a well-known hospital in VA. His bedside manner reminded me he was the perfect example of yet another disconnected medical professional who was good at treating blood cancer but lacked any trace of patient communication skills. Communication is both an art and a skill, and the importance of mastering that skill cannot be overemphasized, especially for doctors, as it impacts patient outcomes and care.

Speaking up

My solution when encountering this kind of medical care is to state simply: “Would you mind taking a few moments to recognize that the object in front of you is more than a case number? I am a living human with emotions and feelings, and yes, I am concerned with quality-of-life issues. I would appreciate your recognizing that medical fact.”

I  encourage every patient and family member to speak up when you or a loved one is facing any form of cancer treatment. It just might save your life.