To the Inquisitive Ones
Letters to my patients, day 20
You come to each visit armed with a notepad, a mind spinning with questions, and an armor of defense.
You’ve been told your questions are too much, there is no time, stop asking and just trust.
Just trust someone else with your life? Yeah right.
But here you are, entering new territory armed with…nothing. How do you even know what you don’t know?
Nobody steps through the doors of an oncology office knowing everything, not even doctors. To have questions is to be human. We are lifelong learners striving for growth and understanding. This is good.
If someone has made you feel bad for your questions, I’m sorry.
It can take trial and error, but eventually you’ll find answers in a place that freely gives them over and over and over again. Let’s talk about the side effects, the possibilities, the pros and cons, your fears, the unknowns. There are people who will sit with you, tackle your list one item at a time, devote extra time to these discussions.
You deserve a listening ear and answers, when possible. Don’t settle for less.
The right caregivers will be honest with the limits to their knowledge, help you search for the answers they don’t have, empower you to keep learning, and, hopefully, put your mind at ease.
When you feel like your questions are a burden, take what you need:
I am allowed to have questions.
If I don’t know where to start, I will ask, “what do I need to know?”
I deserve a care team that sits with me and helps me feel heard. I will pursue that.
It is okay to not have all the answers. I will continue searching.
This journey has many unknowns. I will take it one day 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.
