Bomb Cyclone

The images from last week brought a shiver as I vividly recall the years of driving with trepidation on treacherous roads in NW PA. With centers spread over almost 100 miles along I -80, snow on the ground from October into May, the magic of sugar coated trees and crystalized branches could not distract from white knuckles. A memory flashes: spinning on a black ice hill over the center line toward a steep drop off. Reflexes kick in to “steer in the direction of the skid” and I pulled out just in time for a snow plow to miss me. My husband and son, coming upon a jackknifed tractor-trailer on I- 80 as the truck in front of them couldn’t stop and barreled right through the trailer making an opening they followed- life flashing in an instant. Then hundreds of cars piled up behind the scene. Dealing with cancer, patients didn’t need all the added drama of just making it in rough weather to the therapy. I have always respected their heartiness.

As I enter the exam room this week, I am reminded the depth of resilience we all have and help Claire and Chris through a new journey. Arriving with a supporting sister who traveled 3000 miles, Claire perches on the chair in anticipation. Strong, otherwise healthy, successful business woman, widowed and now recently (3 weeks ago) relocated to town, she looks as if she is shell shocked. “How did this happen. I don’t smoke, drink, I exercise, take vitamins” etcetc. She is still unbelieving. As we navigate the process for care, I realize that Claire needs control. It is how she has lived most of her life and so honoring her strength will work well toward bringing her through the tough terrain. She is a woman of action. She starts to nod with understanding if not acceptance and I visibly see her determination kick in. Good for her.

Chris has a difficult disease and will require chemo, radiation and possibly major surgery. He is in a whirlwind since visiting other physicians but some have downplayed the risks. It is left to me to deliver the sobering reality. No sugar coating this. After the visit, he reaches for my hand and the wide eyes over the mask show surprise. “I’m in trouble aren’t I Doc?” I nod, “Yes Chris, but we are on your team”.

It is one thing to meet a patient where they are in the process, quite another to steer into the slide and right the direction. Cancer is its own force, but I fully believe that courage is stronger. Helping patients tap into that power is key to their success- not just managing disease but their life in spite of the drama as well. I will support and guide Claire and Chris to be in control so they can navigate the difficulties of their new complex lives. We should never ever ignore the profound internal fortitude inherent in each of us. Let your reflexes and intuition lead the way. There will be fear. There will be shock, There will be confusion, but the path will clear and there will also be strength, power and resilience. Remember, this drama does not have control- you do.