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Sheila
Cindy Crowe wrote:
John, thank you for sharing that article. You will not get flamed by me! Sally, I really agree with your thinking on it. When the dr.s you've learned to love and trust say that it's time to hang up the hat, that may be the time to tell our loved one that they've fought the fight and now it's time to go home to God where there is no suffering. I know that goes against the "never give up hope" theory which I think is still good advice for the most part. But maybe sometimes, we can support our loved one by laying next to them in bed (hospital or home) and telling them that it's ok to go to sleep and go home, God is waiting. cindy-----Original Message-----
From: Charlie T <charliet@flash.net>
To: mol-cancer@lists.meds.com <mol-cancer@lists.meds.com>
Date: Friday, June 12, 1998 7:01 PM
Subject: Re: [MOL] Some food for thoughtDear John, I read that article with great interest. And I do wonder about what, or perhaps how much, the doctors tell you. There was a week-long symposium at MDA about death and dying with speakers from around the world. If there is room after staff have attended patients and family can sit in on these. I really wanted to go, not as a morbid or morose thing, but because I find it an interesting facet of an oncologists job. And I have wondered how well they deal with it, what sort of training (if any) does an onco get on delivering grim news and even personally dealing with a stastistic (yeah, Marty, it is a dirty word, but you are on vacation :) ). I did not get to attend, by the way. Charlie's radiologist, Dr. Morrison, is absolutely brilliant, but he could not ever, ever deliver bad news, I know this in my heart and respect him for his tender, bashful spirit. When it was determined radiation was not enough, enter Dr. Khuri, medical onco, who I hated at first as I thought he was blunt and haughty ! After remembering my Shakespeare, "Don't shoot the messenger", I have become very close to him as well. But it took time, and an appreciation that he took on a very difficult task. What I mistook for attitude was actually his way of telling us what Dr. Morrison could not. He was the first one to use the word advanced-Dr. Morrison had just said it's a little bigger than we thought. There's a subtle difference, especially in how a patient perceives each statement. On the first day we met Dr. Khuri, he stated," I will try to save your voice", at which point I said, "he's a singer, you have to save his voice". Dr. Khuri quietly said, "What I want to do is save his life". Boy I hated him that day, and for several days afterwards. But he was the first one to really be honest about the gravity of the situation. He promised us total honesty, and that he would make every effort to cure Charlie. I always liked that. But then you enter into the gray area the article you sent us addresses. Does "every effort" mean that we will go through terrible suffering and sacrifice to simply reduce awhile longer? I don't imagine (and maybe I am very wrong) many patients, even very "hopeful" ones who would opt for this. Is hope always linked with trying more chemo or treatment - for a doctor maybe it is. But for some patients, hope might be taking that spiritual leap and letting their God heal what doctors can not. Trusting God to reveal to you your time and his plan.... Dr. Khuri told Charlie he still had "a reasonable chance". That's not very precise statistically or scientifically, but I think I'd rather hear a gut feeling based on learned personal experience with this type/location cancer, than a zombie quoting statistician. That gives ME hope. He also said, again very scientifically, "It is not time to hang up your hat". That's good enough for me. And the implication I took from that comment was that we were not going to be chemo-ing 'til the last days. That, if it were ever necessary or appropriate, he would tell us when to hang up the hat (interesting analogy for a hairless man!). I do not think of hanging up your hat as taking away hope, I guess I see it as a shift in the battle plan. But what do I know, I am a caregiver not the cancerer... You always hear the blithe ones who say, if I knew I only had a few months to live I'd travel the world or whatever. I really cuss and cringe when I hear that statement. The simple fact is, right now, if Charlie were to "hang up his hat" tomorrow, we'd still be schlepping off to MDA for treatment just to maintain his current "quality" of life, which is so reduced any thought of traveling or going out with a bang is ludicrous. Anyway, I am getting sidetracked by a personal pet peeve! I guess I feel very lucky that in Charlie's team, as you get to know them, and they, you, a bond develops and you eventually know who to look to for an honest, compassionate assessment of the situation. And like many other things I have learned through this journey, today I suddenly feel reminded of how blessed we are to have MDA in our backyard. So, dear John, uncross your fingers, in my book you did the right thing by showing us this article, and if you get flamed, remember I am in the boiling oil with you! Throw in the catfish. Sally-----Original Message-----
From: John <lehnerj1@ix.netcom.com>
To: mol-cancer@lists.meds.com <mol-cancer@lists.meds.com>
Date: Friday, June 12, 1998 11:57 AM
Subject: [MOL] Some food for thoughtDear Friends,I have long been an advocate of the importance of hope in fighting this
disease. This past Tuesday, I read an article in the NY Times that set
me to thinking that hope may just rob some of quality time to spend with
family and to do some preparation for what all of us one day will face.
I have had this discussion with some close friends regarding this subject
and thought it might be of some value to the group to at least think
about it. So, with fingers crossed, I submit the attached for your
consideration. Personally, I believe it to be a subjective, personal
decision each of should make and each of us should honor when another
makes it.God Bless.
John
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