Professionals' responses to the diagnosis of cancer in a colleague
There must be so many doctors and their families who have endured
something at least similar to Kieran Sweeney. All their stories will be
different, some more hopeful, some less so. Kieran's words made me weep
and reminded me of where we were as a family exactly 5 years ago.
Fortunately, our story has a happier ending, at least for now. The most
disappointing part of our journey was the unwillingness of some colleagues
- in both primary and secondary care - to take my husband's symptoms
seriously, resulting in a 6 month delay in the diagnosis of what proved to
be a very malignant tumour at the base of the tongue.
From the time a diagnosis was finally made, however, the personal
care we had from colleagues was outstanding and we have many positive
memories. The doctor who ordered the scan called my husband at home,
asking him to go to his office where we talked through the likely
diagnosis (while I was trying to ring our solicitor to see if we could
cancel the purchase of our new house!). The next day, the oral surgeon
insisted on a home visit to talk through the prospects and ways in which
our family holiday could be arranged around a biopsy without inducing
unnecessary anxiety for our son at a time when the precise diagnosis was
still uncertain. We remember the consultation when the histological
diagnosis was divulged and the oncologist, who had been a year or so ahead
of me at medical school, said afterwards that she could not help wondering
how she would have felt if it was her receiving the news that surgery,
although likely to be the most effective option, might mean that her
husband would never speak or swallow again. The surgeon and my husband’s
boss in the medical school supported me physically and emotionally, one on
each side, as they took me into the ITU after the operation.
I could mention many other instances of genuine care and kindness –
the insight into what life might be like in the future from the ENT
nurses, their patience in teaching me about caring for the tracheostomy,
the surgeon warning us that the radiotherapy would be very debilitating
and that recovery would be slow. Throughout they were professional but
also personal and caring. I think I know that for some, caring for the
husband of a senior colleague was difficult – but they never let it hinder
the care they gave us as a family.
Five years on, life continues – but it will never be quite the same.
Each follow up appointment makes me anxious but our NHS colleagues are
still there for us treating my husband with care and compassion for what
has been a life changing illness. Perhaps we were the lucky ones - no one
shrank away from telling us the truth and helping us make those difficult
decisions. I’d like to think that there are more families with a tale to
tell like ours rather than the harrowing one we read from Kieran.
Rapid Response:
Professionals' responses to the diagnosis of cancer in a colleague
There must be so many doctors and their families who have endured
something at least similar to Kieran Sweeney. All their stories will be
different, some more hopeful, some less so. Kieran's words made me weep
and reminded me of where we were as a family exactly 5 years ago.
Fortunately, our story has a happier ending, at least for now. The most
disappointing part of our journey was the unwillingness of some colleagues
- in both primary and secondary care - to take my husband's symptoms
seriously, resulting in a 6 month delay in the diagnosis of what proved to
be a very malignant tumour at the base of the tongue.
From the time a diagnosis was finally made, however, the personal
care we had from colleagues was outstanding and we have many positive
memories. The doctor who ordered the scan called my husband at home,
asking him to go to his office where we talked through the likely
diagnosis (while I was trying to ring our solicitor to see if we could
cancel the purchase of our new house!). The next day, the oral surgeon
insisted on a home visit to talk through the prospects and ways in which
our family holiday could be arranged around a biopsy without inducing
unnecessary anxiety for our son at a time when the precise diagnosis was
still uncertain. We remember the consultation when the histological
diagnosis was divulged and the oncologist, who had been a year or so ahead
of me at medical school, said afterwards that she could not help wondering
how she would have felt if it was her receiving the news that surgery,
although likely to be the most effective option, might mean that her
husband would never speak or swallow again. The surgeon and my husband’s
boss in the medical school supported me physically and emotionally, one on
each side, as they took me into the ITU after the operation.
I could mention many other instances of genuine care and kindness –
the insight into what life might be like in the future from the ENT
nurses, their patience in teaching me about caring for the tracheostomy,
the surgeon warning us that the radiotherapy would be very debilitating
and that recovery would be slow. Throughout they were professional but
also personal and caring. I think I know that for some, caring for the
husband of a senior colleague was difficult – but they never let it hinder
the care they gave us as a family.
Five years on, life continues – but it will never be quite the same.
Each follow up appointment makes me anxious but our NHS colleagues are
still there for us treating my husband with care and compassion for what
has been a life changing illness. Perhaps we were the lucky ones - no one
shrank away from telling us the truth and helping us make those difficult
decisions. I’d like to think that there are more families with a tale to
tell like ours rather than the harrowing one we read from Kieran.
Competing interests:
None declared
Competing interests: No competing interests