From the outset, this journal’s mission has been to improve and extend the lives of cancer patients worldwide by communicating and translating scientific advances in oncology research into the best practice for clinicians.
And yet, over 20 years, despite therapeutic advances and an ever-growing armamentarium, cancer remains a human experience, lived by patients and clinicians alike. Siddhartha Mukherjee tells us that a patient is, “at first, simply a storyteller, a narrator of suffering, ” while oncologists are observers, listeners, and participants in the healing encounter, and tell their own stories. These tales inform and enlighten us about the human experience.
We are happy to introduce this blog, Discussions With Don S. Dizon, which will help explore these shared stories. Don’s blog extends the excellent section he leads for The Oncologist, Narratives in Oncology.
Whether you are a clinician, caregiver or patient, we hope you will connect with Don here to contribute your own stories so that we may all learn from them.
- Bruce A. Chabner MD
And yet, over 20 years, despite therapeutic advances and an ever-growing armamentarium, cancer remains a human experience, lived by patients and clinicians alike. Siddhartha Mukherjee tells us that a patient is, “at first, simply a storyteller, a narrator of suffering, ” while oncologists are observers, listeners, and participants in the healing encounter, and tell their own stories. These tales inform and enlighten us about the human experience.
We are happy to introduce this blog, Discussions With Don S. Dizon, which will help explore these shared stories. Don’s blog extends the excellent section he leads for The Oncologist, Narratives in Oncology.
Whether you are a clinician, caregiver or patient, we hope you will connect with Don here to contribute your own stories so that we may all learn from them.
- Bruce A. Chabner MD
Birthdays
Facebook
is a remarkable thing. I use it for private matters; to keep in touch
with family and friends from long ago. Because of it, I’ve reconnected
with people from every stage of my life--as far back as 3rd grade
to high school to college and beyond. One of the nicest things about
Facebook is the reminders of when it’s someone’s birthday. As one who has
been on the receiving end of “Happy Birthday” wishes from across the
world, it truly makes one feel special, and loved. I never thought about
how those birthday reminders could ever induce anything but smiles, but
then last week, I got one that I greeted with solemnity, even sadness.
“It’s
Kristina’s birthday today!” Facebook reminded me. Kristina is my best
friend--well, she was…until she died from breast cancer. I used the
column I keep at the American Society of Clinical Oncology’s site, ASCO
Connection, to mourn, celebrate, and remember her.
I had to search to find it--to remind myself how long it’s been since
she’s been gone, and to my surprise, two years had gone by. Somehow, it
felt like months ago and I was shocked to see how pain left in the past
could feel so raw once more.
One
of the things Kristina worried most about towards the end of her life
was that she would not be remembered. I think mostly she worried that
her sons would forget her face, her voice, her smile, and the way she
laughed. She worried they would forget how much she loved them and how
sad she was to leave. I think she also worried that she had so much left
to do--she had dreams she wanted to fulfill, like finishing her
doctoral degree. And I think, she worried that her friends would move
on.
Perhaps
that was true before the Internet, before social media. But now, I
realize social media has immortalized her. Her circle of friends on
Facebook became friends themselves, online. We connected through her,
and those bonds remain even now, years later. Her husband still posts
online, and we are able to see her children grow and see just how much
of her eyes and smile are embedded in her boys. And we are able to chat
with each other--see each others' updates, share in each others’ lives,
even if it is in a small way. That this has happened and persists today
is just what Kristina would have wanted. She was always introducing her
friends to other friends, hoping we would all see something in common,
as she had with each of us, and grow into one big happy social network.
Yet,
even as we are now a part of a larger circle of Kristina’s friends,
there is no getting around the realization that the one who brought us
together is no longer here, and I miss her. Two years later, I still
hear her infectious laugh, the sound of her voice, and the way she would
look at you when you spoke, as if you were the most important person in
the world. Forget her? I think no one who ever met her could do that.
Certainly, I could not.
Ultimately,
I took to Facebook to wish my dear friend “Happy Birthday,” and though I
still missed her, I found comfort in the friends I’ve made online
who wished her the same. Although we’ve never met, their words and
pictures felt like hugs, reaching across the Internet to share a moment
of silence and blow out a candle in honor of one who died too soon.
Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday dear Kristina, Happy Birthday to you.'
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