To the Disrespected Ones
Letters to my patients, day 30
Tears began streaming down your face.
You’re embarrassed. Today was your last chemotherapy cycle and you finally felt in a “good” place, emotionally. You were not planning to cry.
But he rushed in, this new-to-you doctor. No introduction, just blurted out that there was a change in your treatment plan.
He sees your tears but does not investigate their source, blazing ahead in his explanation (which is much less informative than it should be). As you glance around for tissues, his voice fades into the distance. You fear for your life, which is literally in the hands of someone you cannot trust.
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry you were treated as just another patient, not an individual. I’m sorry there was no tact in the delivery of a new plan, no discussion or calm explanation. I’m sorry this robbed you of joy on your last treatment day. I’m sorry you didn’t feel like you could ring the bell, because more might be coming. I’m sorry your anticipatory anxiety was triggered after you had just managed to feel in control again. I’m sorry he didn’t probe deeper, talk about your fears and tears. I’m sorry he didn’t take the time to listen to you or even give you the space to speak. I’m sorry you were not treated with the respect you deserve.
Please, find another doctor.
There are excellent, caring providers out there — intelligence and kindness can co-exist. You deserve to trust the one giving you medical advice. You should have a say in your treatment plan. Informed consent means that you understand the options before going ahead with anything. You deserve to hear the reasoning behind these options, to hear why someone might say no to a certain medication, to decide what is right for you.
Trial and error is hard, with medications or providers. But I promise it will be worth it. Find someone you do trust — a nurse, another provider, the girl at the front desk — and request a change or referral out. Don’t let anyone bully you into a place you don’t feel comfortable. You are worth of quality care. Keep advocating for yourself until you find it.
When you feel disrespected, take what you need:
Everyone, including me, deserves compassion and kindness.
I will find a provider that is right for me — even if that takes a little extra work. It will be worth it.
I am worthy of personalized care. I will ask for explanations of the options and voice my preferences for my care.
There are members of my care team who are trustworthy, who want to help me.
I will not feel guilty for advocating for myself.
This journey is hard, it is okay to feel overwhelmed. I will take it one day at a time.
Thank you for being here,
This is part of a 31-day series of letters to my patients — those undergoing a work-up, diagnosis, or treatment for cancer. Topics are also focused on those caregiving and supporting individuals affected by cancer. This is not an easy journey, but you do not have to do it alone.
This one hit a nerve! I had chemo from March through July of 2020. There was a nurse’s assistant who refused to wear a mask. I escalated my concerns three times, finally to the manager of the infusion center. Next time, the nurse’s assistant was there and she made a point of telling me that she didn’t need to wear a mask because God was protecting her. I thanked her for sharing her opinion with me and replied that I like to think that God sent us science and masks as the miracle. I was inwardly furious that she had been told that I was the complainant- especially since at that time, there was a mask mandate in Ca.