Freedom

Skydiving! That’s not a word we hear often in the cancer center. “Doc, every year I have two celebrations: my birthday and my freedom. It has been twenty years since I came from Cuba and each year I do something amazing to remind myself how lucky I am to be here. Last year I went sky diving. This year my husband wants to swim with sharks!” (has she been to our shores or NJ lately, so easy). I cheer their concept of celebration.

I am lucky everyday to meet people from all over the world and enjoy their personal discovery of America. I often hear, “It’s a blessing” or “I thank God everyday that I live here”.

Do you say that too? We have been so blessed that we have the luxury of not even considering another way of life. When did your family arrive in the U.S.? Did you have ancestors in the civil war or have you immigrated in the past few years? My own grandparents were immigrants in 1917. How I marvel at their strength. Living in Florida I have the excitement every week to care for patients with that same fortitude who are just now discovering our amazing country. I find that even in cancer care, freedom has a place of honor. These patients always express appreciation for healthcare and respect for freedom.

Elsa was a surgeon in Siberia, Russia. Siberia! She came to the US for a better life for her son. She tells how hard living there was for her (with tears in her eyes and shaking her head). Even giving up her career, Elsa exclaims how grateful she is to be here as we work on treating her breast cancer.

A physician friend Joseph escaped from communist Hungary in the 1980’s. It took years to plan the escape for him and his wife (also a physician) He made his way to Canada and retrained in oncology then they became U.S. citizens.

Another doc ‘Mo’ from from the middle east, in an area of great strife, trained here and now has four children as he says “who are free!”

Patient Alex is the son of a couple from Cuba who were boat people. The father didn’t survive but he and his mother have become citizens and made a good life running their own business.

Amal from Iran delayed her breast cancer therapy so that she could take her citizenship exam. As she said, “This is even more important than my health”.

As we celebrate July 4th, we are all aware that freedom didn’t only happen 243 years ago- it happens daily. In the cancer center, with so many of our patients first generation citizens, freedom is still a new and valued concept. They glow with pride to be Americans.

Home of origin factors greatly into the culture and how patients want to pursue their care. When I open the door to these discussions, everyone of them is excited to share. What they all have in common is that they never regret the effort to come to the U.S. Some miss friends and family “back home” and recently a woman here for forty years is going back to Cuba to see her sister for the first time in 35 years. The tales are heart wrenching. Their courage fierce. I have no doubt these brave patients will also have the courage required for this cancer battle.

Everyone of these Americans is grateful. They do not take our freedom for granted. They inspire us all to hold fast to this precious fragile “right”. As one Bosnian patient said, “It is very beautiful there and I miss my family but my life here in the United States is even more beautiful.” I asked if he will fly the flag this holiday. He said, “Doctor, I fly the American flag everyday, this is my home”.

God Bless America, our home sweet home. Happy 4th of July everyone!

A Father’s Day

When men come into the cancer center for care, I am acutely aware that this disease is derailing their life’s work. They wear many hats: father, husband, coach, provider, friend, son and care giver. The cancer victim hat doesn’t belong on their crown. Usually they don’t accept it easily. They are looking for a way out of the drama.

I have been privileged to treat thousands of fathers over the years and I understand their need to protect is strong. Jeff bounces his one year old son on his knee while we detail therapy for a new diagnosis. Benny another patient, whispers even though we are alone because he wants to impress upon me his need to keep his diagnosis of stage IV prostate cancer from his daughters and grandchildren. Carl is a big tough guy brought to his knees with a head and neck cancer but he never takes time from work because he needs to provide for his large (seven children) family. What they have in common with the thousands of fathers is that they want to deflect attention from themselves and harness power within to make this a winning battle.

I watch as these men leave their visit with me and walk down the hallway, straightening their cap, standing taller and putting a smile on their face to the family in the waiting room. The wife and children may have fear in their eyes, but the father is in control of the message.

I admire the fortitude. As their cancer physician, I understand the chaos they are facing- there is no room for this insult in their lives. But I know these men having stood up to a role of father or father figure will be fierce and unafraid. Fatherhood takes strength, leadership, calm demeanor, respect of children and respect for their mother. There is no room for selfishness even or especially when their own world is tilted. It is a unique, quiet, profound role for life.

I pledge to do my best to care for these amazing fathers. God Bless the men in your life who have filled that role. A prayer to those who passed, a phone call to those still here, a hug for those close will touch their hearts. Appreciate the father figures who have paved your path, pushed you to be strong, encouraged bravery, helped you to fulfill a dream, had vision for you and lifted you up. Celebrate the person you are because someone strong once held your tiny hand and believed everything was possible for you. They still do.