It is early, as it usually is when I walk in to listen to the little hearts and lungs, measure the harmonies of their breathing, and watch the redness return to the tips of their fingers when I let go. Sometimes parents stir, and you get to be the first face they see in the morning before they search for that of their child’s. Did their lungs sound okay? Are they breathing okay? Is it going to be an okay day today? But the experience becomes different when that early morning visit is to deliver news of the bubble of uncertainty they are currently residing in. To watch a parent’s face fall apart as they are told the big “C” word as attendings try to make promises to find answers, to provide them with some answers that will be their solace in comparison to this uncertainty. They probably will not remember this conversation as much as they may remember that single sentence. There is a consistent pattern when they hear it. I can see their mind working to process, at an astronomical rate, a...
“The truth is...no one wants to have a pediatric oncologist walk into their room,” my attending said. But there we were, seated across from the patient, at eye level, confirming her own suspicions. Cancer , he said. She had read about it on google but hoped like the rest of us that her thoughts were just due to being engulfed on the internet for far too long. Cancer , he said. He said the word. But she put a story to it. She had a a dream job that she was working every day for. She had younger siblings who looked up to her. She was a daughter, and her mother had seen her own fair share of life’s betrayals. And now, she was watching life betray her with her daughter. Cancer , but really it’s a weird feeling to know one’s body has done things out of its control. Suddenly the body’s pain needs control. The body’s nausea needs control. The body’s aches need control. Suddenly, the body one did not think too hard about needs an extreme amount of attention, and we check...