Getting to the point
Getting to the point
Effective communication is compassionate and direct
It took awhile—18 weeks—for things to get rolling with my cancer diagnosis and treatment. See a previous post. After that first surgery in April, the pace quickened.
Oncologist for next steps
Bariatric surgeon for follow-up to the abdominal surgery
Dermatologist to try to locate the primary melanoma
Thoracic surgeon to prepare for the lung surgery
Brain MRI to rule out cancer in my brain, which a PET scan wouldn’t detect
Chest CT to measure growth, if any, of the tumor in my left lung
All occurring within a three-week span before my second surgery on the lung on May 9, 2022.
(I saved investigating my retinas for a post-surgery project later in May. Melanoma can start in the retina. I did not know this, among so many other things I did not know.)
In coordinating with the thoracic surgeon for the wedge resection on May 9, he called me the day after my brain MRI. Before discussing the lung surgery he said:
This is Dr X. Your brain MRI is clear.
I didn’t expect this intel from him, and I was ecstatic. That he told me the MRI results first was memorable and good.
Direct communication at the other end of the good news/bad news continuum is similarly important to me. This is how the bariatric surgeon broke the news in February 2022 about the unexpected activity in my lung:
This is Dr Y. Your PET scan shows activity in the adrenal nodule and in the left lung.
That was one of the worst bits of news this year, and I’m thankful he gave it to me without preamble.
Both doctors got to the point quickly and held a space for me to react after they delivered their message. I didn’t feel pressed for time. I didn’t worry about an appropriate response. They helped me manage a challenging situation through compassionate and direct communication.
As a partner, mother, friend, I want to do that as well.