Cancer Stories: The Art of Oncology

Listen to JCO OP's Art of Oncology Practice article, "When Cancer Becomes a Headline: Reflections from the Clinic" by Dr. Carlos Stecca. The article is followed by an interview with Stecca and host Dr. Mikkael Sekeres. Dr Stecca reflects on the impact of the public illness and death of Brazilian singer and actress Preta Gil on his patients with colorectal cancer and on his own practice as a medical oncologist.
TRANSCRIPT
Narrator: When Cancer Becomes a Headline: Reflections from the Clinic, by Carlos Stecca, MD
Dr. Mikkael Sekeres: Welcome back to JCO's Cancer Stories: The Art of Oncology. This ASCO podcast features intimate narratives and perspectives from authors exploring their experiences in oncology. I'm your host, Mikkael Sekeres. I'm Professor of Medicine and Chief of the Division of Hematology at the Sylvester Comprehensive Cancer Center, University of Miami.
What a pleasure it is today to have Dr. Carlos Stecca, a medical oncologist at Evangelical Mackenzie University Hospital, to discuss his JCO Oncology Practice article, "When Cancer Becomes a Headline: Reflections From the Clinic". Dr. Stecca and I have agreed to call each other by first names.
Carlos, thank you for contributing to JCO Oncology Practice and for joining us today to discuss your article.
Dr. Carlos Stecca: So great to be here. Thank you so much for having me.
Dr. Mikkael Sekeres: I wonder if we could start off by asking you to tell us about yourself. Where are you from and what led you to this point in your career?
Dr. Carlos Stecca: So I am Brazilian. I was born in Brazil in a small town in the south of Brazil, and I did my medical training all in Brazil. So I did medical school here, internal medicine, and medical oncology. My residency period ended in early 2018. I did my residency at the AC Camargo Cancer Center, which is in Sao Paulo. And then right after that, I moved closer to my parents to start my journey as a medical oncologist. And I stayed here in the south for two more years. And then I was lucky enough to be accepted for a clinical research fellowship in genitourinary malignancies at the Princess Margaret Cancer Center. And I had the pleasure to work with Dr. Kala Sridhar for two years. So this was during the pandemic, so 2020, 2021. And then right after that, I moved back to Brazil. And I've been here for the past four years working as a medical oncologist specialized in genitourinary malignancies. But also, well, unfortunately here in Brazil most of us cannot do only one site, so we have to do a little bit more, so I'm doing gynae and GI as well. And in a few days, I'm moving back to Canada. I was lucky enough again to be accepted for a position at the University of British Columbia, so I'm moving in a few days.
Dr. Mikkael Sekeres: Oh, my word. We caught you just in time then.
Dr. Carlos Stecca: Yeah, yeah. I'm moving in four days now.
Dr. Mikkael Sekeres: I can't imagine what it's like to be going between those extremes of weather from Canada down to Brazil. Did your teeth crack when you did that?
Dr. Carlos Stecca: Something like that. Yeah, it was like, I moved in December. So in December we have summer here in Brazil, and it was like 35, 40 degrees Celsius when I left Brazil at the airport. And when I arrived, it was close to minus 20 when I went to Toronto. Yeah.
Dr. Mikkael Sekeres: Oh, my word.
Dr. Carlos Stecca: It was rough.
Dr. Mikkael Sekeres: Well, those of us who live at or near the Southern Hemisphere, I will tell you, I've started to wear puffy jackets and snow caps when it drops into the 60s. Good luck with reacclimating to Canada.
I wonder if we could talk a little bit about the story that sparked this terrific essay. It was so interesting. The Brazilian singer and actress Preta Gil died of rectal cancer in July of 2025 at the age of 50. And she went public with her diagnosis. What is it that she communicated to the public about colorectal cancer?
Dr. Carlos Stecca: So she was very open about her diagnosis since the beginning. So this was very interesting. She is very famous here. She had tons of followers on Instagram and social media, and she was very outspoken about her diagnosis since the first beginning. So she was diagnosed with an early stage disease, and she did a great job raising awareness for this condition, for colorectal cancer. She had a beautiful journey discussing the specifics of her case.
Dr. Mikkael Sekeres: So she talked both about her diagnosis and some of the treatments she was undergoing, but also about symptoms of cancer, right?
Dr. Carlos Stecca: She really engaged in this discussion about her diagnosis and how she found out about her cancer. So rectal bleeding, this was disclosed in her stories on Instagram, and so she was very open about this. And it really helped people understand the condition, and it really increased the number of screening tests that Brazilians were doing. And of course, we saw this increasing uptake of the screening tests, which was amazing.
Dr. Mikkael Sekeres: In a way, I think she did a real public service, I think, both for early detection of colorectal cancer with symptoms, also for screening, so asymptomatic people who would undergo colonoscopies, and also demystified a little bit the treatment of colorectal cancer. In the US, we saw a similar phenomenon when the actor Chad Boseman of Black Panther movie franchise fame died of colorectal cancer in 2020 at the age of 43. These deaths have also sparked an international conversation about cancer in younger adults. Are you seeing that in your clinic?
Dr. Carlos Stecca: Yes, definitely. We're seeing many more cases of cancer diagnosed in the younger population, right? So yeah, this discussion was very important to have, not only because the screening tests increased in patients after the age of 50 years old without any symptoms, but also raised awareness for those symptoms that should trigger the proper investigation.
Dr. Mikkael Sekeres: I wonder if you could speculate a little bit about why it is that we're seeing more cancer in younger adults. Do you think it has anything to do, for example, with diet and people eating more ultra-processed foods? Is it a phenomenon? I've even heard people talk about microplastics and whether that could be contributing. Also, recently, there was an article that came out that speculated that while we're seeing more cancers in younger adults, we're not seeing more deaths in younger adults, so we may just be picking these up earlier as more people are going to be screened or for additional testing at a younger age.
Dr. Carlos Stecca: Yeah, I think so. I think this is definitely the case. I think younger adults are eating more processed foods, and we know that this is an obvious risk factor for colorectal cancer and other cancers as well. And maybe obesity as well, we are seeing this as a pandemic now in the world, right? So we are seeing this especially in developing countries. And here in Brazil, of course, we are seeing this as a phenomenon.
Dr. Mikkael Sekeres: It's so fascinating. I feel like we won't really know the answer about the uptick in cancers in younger adults for years until some of the data settle out, including the data about people during the COVID pandemic not going for screening and testing as often and whether we're now starting to see the downstream effects of that.
Dr. Carlos Stecca: For sure, I think this is- well, during the pandemic I was in Canada, but shortly after the pandemic was coming to an end, I came back to Brazil, and I saw that. I saw that a lot of patients came to the clinic with more advanced cancers because they missed those opportunities of being seen by a physician during the pandemic, because of course, for obvious reasons, people were not coming to the clinic. And we saw that, a huge number of patients being diagnosed with late-stage disease because of that.
Dr. Mikkael Sekeres: It's fascinating. There's a named phenomenon called the Angelina Jolie effect. I don't know if you remember following the actress's 2013 opinion piece about genetic testing for hereditary cancers such as BRCA1 and following her prophylactic mastectomy. She is a carrier of a mutation. There was a wave of testing that occurred thereafter. So some good can come from celebrities going public with their cancer diagnosis.
Dr. Carlos Stecca: Oh, definitely, definitely. I think that more good can come from their diagnosis and them being verbal about this than the downsides. Of course, the positive side of it is definitely outweighing the negative effect.
Dr. Mikkael Sekeres: You write a really thoughtful essay. You mention downsides, and there can be some downsides. One of the things you wrote in your essay was, "Yet for others already living with colorectal cancer, the same story had the opposite effect. Instead of empowerment, it fueled anxiety, guilt, and resignation. Some patients grew silent, fearing their treatment was futile as they compared themselves to a celebrity who had access to the best hospitals, specialists, and resources, and still passed away. Others questioned why they had not caught their cancer earlier, internalizing blame." Can you talk a little bit more about some of the unintended consequences of a celebrity who goes public with his or her cancer diagnosis?
Dr. Carlos Stecca: That was exactly it, right? I was witnessing this in my clinic. I work in a public hospital here, and I would see those patients coming to me and voicing their concerns about their diagnosis, colorectal cancer, that was now in the spotlight because of that famous person that battled with colorectal cancer and unfortunately passed away after two years of starting her journey. And that was something quite difficult for the patients because, as you mentioned, and as I wrote in the text, some of those patients were in the public system and they were comparing themselves, comparing their diagnosis with the diagnosis of someone who had endless resources. And in fact, she even went to the United States and took part in a clinical trial. She participated in a clinical trial. And yet she was not able to overcome this diagnosis, and sadly she passed away.
So, most of our patients were coming to the clinic and voicing their fears, like, "If even she couldn't get through this, how can I? I'm a simple person and I'm here in this world of limited resources." And here in Brazil, we do have the public system and the private system, and there is a huge gap between what we can do in one system and another. That was a concern that they voiced.
Dr. Mikkael Sekeres: I'm sorry she passed away. How did you deal with that? So how did you respond to patients who said, "Gee, if this famous actress with unlimited resources dies from her cancer, what hope do I have?"
Dr. Carlos Stecca: Yeah, so I think this is very difficult, right? And this is something that I was learning to understand now. Because as you mentioned, Chadwick Boseman and Angelina Jolie, we heard of those stories, but I never felt that this would be impactful in my clinic, that there would be patients voicing their concerns about their diagnosis being in the spotlight. And this is something that happened to me now. I would often see those patients, and I started to think about the downsides of a cancer being on a headline for those already living with cancer, and already living with that cancer and having their cancer in the spotlight. And so that was something that I needed to hear and address their concerns more actively than before, right? So this is something that is really important. And sometimes it is as important as discussing toxicity related to chemotherapy or other things related to the treatment itself. But addressing their concerns, it would be a way to alleviate the burden that the patients are experiencing from that.
Dr. Mikkael Sekeres: So what would you say to them? If somebody said to you, "How can I do well when this famous actress didn't do well?", what would you say?
Dr. Carlos Stecca: The first thing is to talk to the patient that every diagnosis is different. So we do have differences in staging, we do have differences in biology of the tumor. And as we study more those diseases and every type of cancer, but here, especially colorectal cancer, we are seeing that those differences are very important in the treatment and they will be part of the prognosis as well. So no disease is the same as other disease. So your experience is unique. So your diagnosis is in a certain way unique. Your treatment might be different, right?
Dr. Mikkael Sekeres: I like how you personalized that for each patient.
I really love how you end this essay. You write, "In those quiet moments after a headline, when fear enters the exam room, my responsibility is clear. I must not only prescribe treatment, but also restore perspective, dignity, and courage. Sometimes that is the most difficult, yet most essential part of being an oncologist." I remember, Carlos, one of my patients once described what we do as being almost pastoral. He himself was a minister and said this. And an important part of our job is to provide that context, but also a space where people can feel forgiveness for what they perceive as their fault. I wonder if you could reflect on that a little bit. How is it that, it almost sounds like it's too extreme, but we provide a sanctuary where patients can forgive themselves for the guilt they've been carrying around.
Dr. Carlos Stecca: Yeah. No, I think this is very important. As medical oncologists, we are more than just physicians. We become friends with the patients, right? So most of the time I do create this relationship, this strong bond with the patient, because I worked as a family doctor before, so I treated patients very intimately as well. But nothing compares to being an oncologist now, because I think that the emotional burden associated with the profession is extremely high. And it's very difficult for the patient, for the family. And so we become part of their families and part of their story and their journey throughout their whole journey with the cancer. So it can be very emotional. I think that it's much more than being a physician and treating patients and prescribing treatments and discussing the biology of the tumor. And it's much more than that. And I think that being an oncologist entails all that, entails being part of their story and engaging in an emotional journey that they are having with the cancer. Especially here in Brazil, I think that the diagnosis of cancer has always been challenging. And I think that a patient's experience is unique and addressing the emotional part of it is very important.
Dr. Mikkael Sekeres: Well, what a beautiful way to sum up what we do. We become part of our patients' stories and journey, and they become part of ours, and I think that's why we write about it.
It has been such a pleasure to have Dr. Carlos Stecca to discuss his essay, "When Cancer Becomes a Headline: Reflections From the Clinic". Carlos, thank you so much for submitting your article and for joining us today.
Dr. Carlos Stecca: Thank you so much for having me. It was a pleasure.
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Until next time, this has been Mikkael Sekeres for JCO's Cancer Stories: The Art of Oncology.
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Guest Bio:
Dr Carlos Stecca is a medical oncologist at Evangelical Mackenzie University Hospital.

Listen to JCO's Art of Oncology article, "Mother's Grief" by Dr. Margaret Cupit-Link, who is an assistant professor of pediatric hematology/oncology at Cardinal Glennon Children's Hospital of St. Louis University. The article is followed by an interview with Cupit-Link and host Dr. Mikkael Sekeres. Dr Cupit-Link shares a pediatric oncologist's experience of a patient's death through the new lens of motherhood.
TRANSCRIPT
AOO 26E03
Narrator: Mother's Grief, by Margaret Cupit-Link, MD, MSCI 
Mikkael Sekeres: Welcome back to JCO's Cancer Stories: The Art of Oncology. This ASCO podcast features intimate narratives and perspectives from authors exploring their experiences in oncology. I'm your host, Mikkael Sekeres. I'm professor of medicine and Chief of the Division of Hematology at the Sylvester Comprehensive Cancer Center, University of Miami.
What a treat it is today to have joining us our third place Narrative Medicine Contest winner, Maggie Cupit-Link, an assistant professor of Pediatric Hematology Oncology at Cardinal Glennon Children's Hospital of St. Louis University to discuss her Journal of Clinical Oncology article, "Mother's Grief."
Both Maggie and I have agreed to call each other by first names.
Maggie, thank you for contributing to the Journal of Clinical Oncology and for joining us to discuss your winning article.
Maggie Cupit-Link: Thank you so much for having me and for choosing my article. It's an honor to get to speak with this group. I know a lot of our listeners have a lot in common with us in our profession, so I'm excited to be here.
Mikkael Sekeres: We're excited to have you. You are such a terrific writer. Tell us about yourself. Where are you from, and walk us through where you are at this stage of your career?
Maggie Cupit-Link: I grew up in a small town in Mississippi called Brookhaven, and I ended up attending college in Memphis, Tennessee, which is important to note because I was a pre-med student when I got diagnosed with childhood cancer, Ewing sarcoma, at the age of 19. And so that really shaped my career goals. And I was treated at St. Jude Children's Research Hospital, which is very formative as well, given that I was surrounded by childhood cancer patients. I ended up doing my medical school at the Mayo Clinic Medical School in Minnesota, which was very cold for me but a wonderful experience.
And then went to St. Louis to WashU, St. Louis Children's for my residency, and then back to Memphis for my fellowship at St. Jude. But now I'm back in St. Louis at the other hospital, Cardinal Glennon, which is affiliated with St. Louis University. And my husband's originally from St. Louis, so it was always a dream of his to be back here. And once I ended up here, I really have loved St. Louis as well. So this is home for us and our two babies who are ages one and two, and they are one year and one day apart exactly.
Mikkael Sekeres: Oh my word. Well, you are definitely in the thick of it, aren't you?
Maggie Cupit-Link: It's a very busy, chaotic life, but I'm very grateful. And so that makes it worth it.
Mikkael Sekeres: That sounds fantastic. Well, I'm calling in from Miami today, so believe me, the thought of being in Rochester, Minnesota is not very appealing in mid-February.
Maggie Cupit-Link: I believe that. I'm glad I'm not there right now.
Mikkael Sekeres: Gee, I didn't know about your history of having cancer yourself. What was it like to return for fellowship at the place where you yourself were treated?
Maggie Cupit-Link: That was an incredible experience for me. It was very emotional as well. I remember the first day of fellowship getting a tour and crying throughout the tour. More tears of joy, but it was, it was really surreal. It was really special. And I got to learn from some of the doctors who treated me, which made it really special as well. I'm really glad I got to train there and to be at a place with such a large volume of pediatric oncology patients was a really great learning experience.
Mikkael Sekeres: I wonder, infrastructures, buildings change over a few years, particularly in medical centers. Was there ever a moment when you were talking to a patient who was sitting in the same chair where you were sitting when you were a patient? And was that something that you were open to sharing with people?
Maggie Cupit-Link: All the time, on all accounts. Yes. The infrastructure has changed. It continues to grow significantly, but the clinic hadn't changed at that time. I think it will in the next couple of years. But the solid tumor clinic where I was treated was exactly the same. And there were many times where I took care of sarcoma patients and Ewing sarcoma patients who were teenagers as I had been in the very same rooms and times where I learned from my own oncologist as he was teaching me and training me. So it made it really special.
It made empathy a big part of my experience. And I think it is for all of our experiences in oncology in particular, but I think that empathy has always been a huge part of my job and something that comes to me naturally, which is a gift. But as is sort of alluded to in my piece that we're discussing today, can be difficult at times. Empathy can also sometimes be a curse when it's hard to turn off, and that's been something as a mother now that I've really had to learn to cope with is like figuring out when my empathy might not serve me in moments and might not serve the patient in moments, and when it is an asset and a gift.
Mikkael Sekeres: Empathy at the deepest possible level, having walked the same path your patients have walked as well. Really a remarkable story, Maggie.
Maggie Cupit-Link: I'm very blessed to get to be alive and well, but especially to get to have a job that's so meaningful to me and hopefully can share my experience in a way that helps my patients.
Mikkael Sekeres: And you share it through writing as well. When did you start writing narrative pieces?
Maggie Cupit-Link: I started writing a lot when I was a cancer patient for more like a journal experience. And I had a CaringBridge page, which is one of these social media pages where families update their friends a lot on what's going on. And I started journaling daily, and then ended up publishing a book of my experience as a patient. I had also done a lot of writing of letters to my grandfather who's a retired professor of Christian philosophy because during my illness, I was really struggling with my faith and having a lot of questions as we all do when encountering children with cancer, "Why? Why God?" And so the book is actually called Why God? Suffering Through Cancer Into Faith, and it's a collection of narratives that I exchanged with my grandfather. And his part is more philosophical, and mine is more raw and emotional and expressive of the grief that I was feeling at the time as a patient.
So that was the first big time I did narrative medicine, but I've found myself continuing to do so as a way to cope and process things that I go through. And the most recent one before the one we're discussing today was a piece about fertility that was published in JCO Cancer Stories and also I got to do the podcast for that piece. And that was about my experience losing fertility as a patient and how that has impacted what I tell patients about fertility and how I counsel them about possible fertility loss. And the plot twist there is that I actually have two miracle babies that I birthed for some reason after 13 years of menopause. So now I'm not infertile, but I'm very passionate about fertility as well.
Mikkael Sekeres: Well, I remember that essay. I also remember how impactful that was to a lot of people who read it and how helpful it was. And gave a lot of people hope.
Maggie Cupit-Link: I think hope is very, very important and necessary in the realm of cancer.
Mikkael Sekeres: My word, you have so much that you could potentially share with your patients on their journey. Have you also been open to sharing your faith with them?
Maggie Cupit-Link: Absolutely. I am. I think that it's something I'm really cautious not to push on anyone, but whenever patients bring up faith and want to talk about that or when they introduce that as a topic and make it clear that that's something that they are thinking about, then I'm definitely very open about that too.
Mikkael Sekeres: Well, that must be a comfort to them.
Maggie Cupit-Link: I hope so. It's a comfort to me as well. For me, I don't know how I would do this job and lose patients and children to death if I didn't believe in something more.
Mikkael Sekeres: It's beautifully said.
In this essay, you make a close connection to your patient and his mother when you write, "I imagined my own son contained in a hospital room, attached to an IV pole, vomiting from chemotherapy. I could feel the warmth of his skin against mine and the weight of his body on my chest. And as I looked back at Tristan's mother, I could only support her decision to hold her baby." What is the importance of this connection to patients, and are there any downsides? In other words, you know, in medical school, we're often taught to keep a distance, or there was an essay I wrote with Tim Gilligan, who's a GU oncologist and this incredible communicator, where we wonder if all the communication classes we're exposed to in medical school actually undo our natural communication and our natural connection because we figure, "Gee, if we have to take all these classes on communication, maybe we've got to communicate differently." What is the importance of this connection to patients, and are there any downsides? Like, should we keep a distance or not?
Maggie Cupit-Link: I don't know if we should, but I know that I can't. This is my gift and my curse. I think that taking care of someone with a sick baby, especially as a parent, is so human and so full of emotion that it's not possible for me not to feel that connection. Now, I do think there's a point at which I have to be careful that what I'm doing and what I'm expressing doesn't make it harder for them. I think it's important for them to know that I feel for them and that I am having these feelings, but I don't want it to become about me when I'm trying to help them. So I once in one of these medical school situations was told that the moment the family begins to comfort me might be a moment that I've known I've gone too far. And so I think that's a rule of thumb I think about is like, if I'm crying in this moment with this family, does that make them feel loved, or does that make them feel like they need to worry about me? And I think most of the time it just makes them feel loved, but that's sort of the tension there.
I think when it comes to me too, I've been unable so far to put up boundaries to protect myself emotionally. I don't know that I'm capable of that, but more importantly, I don't think that's authentic for me. And so I don't do that. I'm trying to process and grieve so that I can cope and continue to be the doctor and person that I am. But I refuse to put up emotional walls because I don't think that will serve the patient or be authentic to who I am as a person.
Mikkael Sekeres: You bring up a couple of really important notions, and the first is authenticity, being true to ourselves. And if we're not true to ourselves, our patients will see through that and wonder if we're not being true to them. And also having our antennae up to get the pulse of the room, to see how people are reacting to what we're doing and making sure that we're serving our patient's needs more than we're serving our own needs when we're actually in the clinic room with our patients.
Maggie Cupit-Link: Definitely, I agree. And and those scenarios in medical school, I remember just thinking to myself that it didn't make a lot of sense to me and that I was lucky that this class wasn't meant for me, that I'll just do what I feel is appropriate. And I always did really well in the simulations, but I had no way to articulate why I knew what to do. It just, for me, I was so lucky that part came naturally, and I think it does in many of us who find medicine as a calling. But I don't know how to teach or learn that.
Mikkael Sekeres: Well, you've seen it from the other side as well. I mean, you strike me as being a naturally empathic person and someone who's tuned into other people's emotions. But you've also been there. You're more tuned in than I am, having been someone who's had cancer. I've certainly had close family members who've had cancer, my mom has lung cancer, for example. So I've been in the role of somebody in the room who's supporting somebody with cancer, but I haven't myself had cancer the way you have.
Maggie Cupit-Link: It definitely impacts my empathy. And I think that I was surprised after becoming a mother how much that also changed things for me and impacted my empathy further. Until you're a parent, you really don't know the depth and intensity of your love for a child or a person. And it was only then that I realized how heartbreaking it might be to lose a child. It's very difficult to suppress that empathy. And that's when it might not be helpful sometimes is when I'm leaving work and thinking about someone who lost their baby and knowing that no matter how much I empathize with them, it's not going to fix it. It's been the first time in my career and maybe my life where I've had to tell myself that maybe it's okay not to have empathy in this moment. Like, maybe I should turn it off for a little bit so that I can relax and enjoy my baby.
Mikkael Sekeres: My God, it's such an interesting perspective. I think as oncologists, we have this different perspective on illness and, and if we're smart about it, if we're really focused and in the moment, we appreciate the aspects of life and realize how precious they can be. And that can be a lovely thing and something we pass on to our kids. I will tell you, my own children have accused me of brushing off some of their maladies with the refrain, "Well, it may hurt you, but it's not leukemia."
Maggie Cupit-Link: I've heard that's common with physician's children, but it takes a lot to get a rise out of the parent.
Mikkael Sekeres: You write at one point in the essay, "At first, I believed that I had no right to grieve in this way, that it was his mother's grief, Tristan's mother, not mine. I reminded myself that I was not Tristan's mother. I did not give birth to him or name him." Now, we recently published an essay about grieving called "Are You Bereaved?" by Trisha Paul, where she also wonders whether we as oncologists have a right to grieve. What do you think? Do we?
Maggie Cupit-Link: I have to note that Trisha and I were co-fellows together in our training, so I'm happy that you mentioned her. And I need to go read that essay. I haven't read that one, so I will.
It's weird to wonder if we have the right to grieve. My grandmother is a psychologist, and I remember as a child saying like, "I know I shouldn't feel this way, but" about some random thing. And I remember her saying, "Feelings aren't 'should'. Feelings just 'are'." So like, maybe it doesn't matter if we should or shouldn't, but if we are grieving, we're grieving.
I think in some ways it feels like I don't have the right to grieve because I have this wonderful, happy life. And this can be true of survivorship as well when I'm taking care of many children who won't get to be survivors, especially because I care for a lot of sarcoma patients. But I often wonder like, "Am I allowed to be this happy," or "am I allowed to not be happy because there's so much grief in their lives?" So it's hard. I feel this tension often like, I'm not allowed to grieve as much as this mom, but also I better be really, really happy because I'm okay and my baby's okay. It's hard when we compare our emotions to other people's who are going through different things. But it, but it's hard not to wonder, like, "Am I allowed to feel this way?" "Am I supposed to feel this way?" For me, that's when writing is helpful. Just writing down what I feel in great detail helps me move through the feelings, I guess.
Mikkael Sekeres: Part of the processing of it.
You described the code call for your patient vividly. You know, you draw us as readers into your essay and into that moment. We've all been in that moment. I remember when I was just talking to somebody about when I was in the intensive care unit, when I was a resident, and how at that time, a psychiatrist actually met with us every week to help us process what we were seeing in the intensive care unit, which was really remarkably forward thinking for how long ago I trained.
Maggie Cupit-Link: That's really great.
Mikkael Sekeres: How did you process it in real time and afterwards though?
Maggie Cupit-Link: That day, even now, an aspect of me was dreading this conversation because I feel nauseated when I think back to that day, to that code, and I feel like I'm going to cry. And I don't feel like that in every code, but I think it was because of the parallels between the little boy and my baby. To note, my baby, Houston, he is a big, bald, fat faced baby with a binky in his mouth at all times, and Tristan was a fat, bald baby with a binky in his mouth at all times. And so even though there was a bit of an age difference, when I saw Tristan, I just thought of Houston, and I couldn't separate that.
I feel often when I'm doing a lumbar puncture or running a code in real time on a patient, I can sort of dehumanize to the degree that's helpful where I just do what needs to be done and put aside the ick feelings. But with that child, in that code, I couldn't. And luckily I didn't have to do anything but stand there and tell them when to stop or just be supportive, but I felt sick. I felt like I couldn't do anything to help. I didn't feel like a doctor in that moment. I felt like a family member of that child. And that was really difficult.
I was so lucky, and I don't know how much the piece reflects this, but the other doctor who was there, the other oncologist, is a mentor of mine who's older than me and wiser than me and very experienced. And I call her my 'work mom' lovingly. She was there, and she stepped in and helped me and checked on me and made me feel like I could handle things. It would have been much worse without her there.
Mikkael Sekeres: We're fortunate when we do have our friends and colleagues to help process this because if you're not in this field, at that moment it's hard to understand just how deeply we can also feel the pain that our patients are going through.
Maggie Cupit-Link: Absolutely.
Mikkael Sekeres: And I do hope you'll retain that description of Houston for when you give the speech at his wedding because I'm sure he'd appreciate that.
Maggie Cupit-Link: The big fat bald binky baby. Yes. Houston is now in his 'mama phase' where if I'm not holding him at all times, he fake cries, "Mama," until I do pick him up. So it's been exhausting physically, but I must pick him up.
Mikkael Sekeres: I have to say it has been such a pleasure having you, Maggie Cupit-Link, join us to discuss your essay, "Mother's Grief." Thank you so much for submitting your article and for joining us today.
Maggie Cupit-Link: Thank you so much for having me, and thank you for everyone for reading.
Mikkael Sekeres: If you've enjoyed this episode, consider sharing it with a friend or colleague or leave us a review. Your feedback and support helps us continue to have these important conversations. If you're looking for more episodes and context, follow our show on Apple, Spotify, or wherever you listen and explore more from ASCO at asco.org/podcasts.
Until next time, this has been Mikkael Sekeres for JCO's Cancer Stories: The Art of Oncology.
The purpose of this podcast is to educate and to inform. This is not a substitute for professional medical care and is not intended for use in the diagnosis or treatment of individual conditions.
Guests on this podcast express their own opinions, experience, and conclusions. Guest statements on the podcast do not express the opinions of ASCO. The mention of any product, service, organization, activity, or therapy should not be construed as an ASCO endorsement.
Show Notes:
Like, share and subscribe so you never miss an episode and leave a rating or review.
 
Guest Bio:
Dr Margaret Cupit-Link is an assistant professor of pediatric hematology/oncology at Cardinal Glennon Children's Hospital of St. Louis University.
 
Additional Reading: 
It Mattered Later
Why, God?: Suffering Through Cancer into Faith, by Margaret Carlisle Cupit, et al

Listen to JCO's Art of Oncology article, "Mother's Grief" by Dr. Margaret Cupit-Link, who is an assistant professor of pediatric hematology/oncology at Cardinal Glennon Children's Hospital of St. Louis University. The article is followed by an interview with Cupit-Link and host Dr. Mikkael Sekeres. Dr Cupit-Link shares a pediatric oncologist's experience of a patient's death through the new lens of motherhood.
TRANSCRIPT
AOO 26E03
Narrator: Mother's Grief, by Margaret Cupit-Link, MD, MSCI 
Mikkael Sekeres: Welcome back to JCO's Cancer Stories: The Art of Oncology. This ASCO podcast features intimate narratives and perspectives from authors exploring their experiences in oncology. I'm your host, Mikkael Sekeres. I'm professor of medicine and Chief of the Division of Hematology at the Sylvester Comprehensive Cancer Center, University of Miami.
What a treat it is today to have joining us our third place Narrative Medicine Contest winner, Maggie Cupit-Link, an assistant professor of Pediatric Hematology Oncology at Cardinal Glennon Children's Hospital of St. Louis University to discuss her Journal of Clinical Oncology article, "Mother's Grief."
Both Maggie and I have agreed to call each other by first names.
Maggie, thank you for contributing to the Journal of Clinical Oncology and for joining us to discuss your winning article.
Maggie Cupit-Link: Thank you so much for having me and for choosing my article. It's an honor to get to speak with this group. I know a lot of our listeners have a lot in common with us in our profession, so I'm excited to be here.
Mikkael Sekeres: We're excited to have you. You are such a terrific writer. Tell us about yourself. Where are you from, and walk us through where you are at this stage of your career?
Maggie Cupit-Link: I grew up in a small town in Mississippi called Brookhaven, and I ended up attending college in Memphis, Tennessee, which is important to note because I was a pre-med student when I got diagnosed with childhood cancer, Ewing sarcoma, at the age of 19. And so that really shaped my career goals. And I was treated at St. Jude Children's Research Hospital, which is very formative as well, given that I was surrounded by childhood cancer patients. I ended up doing my medical school at the Mayo Clinic Medical School in Minnesota, which was very cold for me but a wonderful experience.
And then went to St. Louis to WashU, St. Louis Children's for my residency, and then back to Memphis for my fellowship at St. Jude. But now I'm back in St. Louis at the other hospital, Cardinal Glennon, which is affiliated with St. Louis University. And my husband's originally from St. Louis, so it was always a dream of his to be back here. And once I ended up here, I really have loved St. Louis as well. So this is home for us and our two babies who are ages one and two, and they are one year and one day apart exactly.
Mikkael Sekeres: Oh my word. Well, you are definitely in the thick of it, aren't you?
Maggie Cupit-Link: It's a very busy, chaotic life, but I'm very grateful. And so that makes it worth it.
Mikkael Sekeres: That sounds fantastic. Well, I'm calling in from Miami today, so believe me, the thought of being in Rochester, Minnesota is not very appealing in mid-February.
Maggie Cupit-Link: I believe that. I'm glad I'm not there right now.
Mikkael Sekeres: Gee, I didn't know about your history of having cancer yourself. What was it like to return for fellowship at the place where you yourself were treated?
Maggie Cupit-Link: That was an incredible experience for me. It was very emotional as well. I remember the first day of fellowship getting a tour and crying throughout the tour. More tears of joy, but it was, it was really surreal. It was really special. And I got to learn from some of the doctors who treated me, which made it really special as well. I'm really glad I got to train there and to be at a place with such a large volume of pediatric oncology patients was a really great learning experience.
Mikkael Sekeres: I wonder, infrastructures, buildings change over a few years, particularly in medical centers. Was there ever a moment when you were talking to a patient who was sitting in the same chair where you were sitting when you were a patient? And was that something that you were open to sharing with people?
Maggie Cupit-Link: All the time, on all accounts. Yes. The infrastructure has changed. It continues to grow significantly, but the clinic hadn't changed at that time. I think it will in the next couple of years. But the solid tumor clinic where I was treated was exactly the same. And there were many times where I took care of sarcoma patients and Ewing sarcoma patients who were teenagers as I had been in the very same rooms and times where I learned from my own oncologist as he was teaching me and training me. So it made it really special.
It made empathy a big part of my experience. And I think it is for all of our experiences in oncology in particular, but I think that empathy has always been a huge part of my job and something that comes to me naturally, which is a gift. But as is sort of alluded to in my piece that we're discussing today, can be difficult at times. Empathy can also sometimes be a curse when it's hard to turn off, and that's been something as a mother now that I've really had to learn to cope with is like figuring out when my empathy might not serve me in moments and might not serve the patient in moments, and when it is an asset and a gift.
Mikkael Sekeres: Empathy at the deepest possible level, having walked the same path your patients have walked as well. Really a remarkable story, Maggie.
Maggie Cupit-Link: I'm very blessed to get to be alive and well, but especially to get to have a job that's so meaningful to me and hopefully can share my experience in a way that helps my patients.
Mikkael Sekeres: And you share it through writing as well. When did you start writing narrative pieces?
Maggie Cupit-Link: I started writing a lot when I was a cancer patient for more like a journal experience. And I had a CaringBridge page, which is one of these social media pages where families update their friends a lot on what's going on. And I started journaling daily, and then ended up publishing a book of my experience as a patient. I had also done a lot of writing of letters to my grandfather who's a retired professor of Christian philosophy because during my illness, I was really struggling with my faith and having a lot of questions as we all do when encountering children with cancer, "Why? Why God?" And so the book is actually called Why God? Suffering Through Cancer Into Faith, and it's a collection of narratives that I exchanged with my grandfather. And his part is more philosophical, and mine is more raw and emotional and expressive of the grief that I was feeling at the time as a patient.
So that was the first big time I did narrative medicine, but I've found myself continuing to do so as a way to cope and process things that I go through. And the most recent one before the one we're discussing today was a piece about fertility that was published in JCO Cancer Stories and also I got to do the podcast for that piece. And that was about my experience losing fertility as a patient and how that has impacted what I tell patients about fertility and how I counsel them about possible fertility loss. And the plot twist there is that I actually have two miracle babies that I birthed for some reason after 13 years of menopause. So now I'm not infertile, but I'm very passionate about fertility as well.
Mikkael Sekeres: Well, I remember that essay. I also remember how impactful that was to a lot of people who read it and how helpful it was. And gave a lot of people hope.
Maggie Cupit-Link: I think hope is very, very important and necessary in the realm of cancer.
Mikkael Sekeres: My word, you have so much that you could potentially share with your patients on their journey. Have you also been open to sharing your faith with them?
Maggie Cupit-Link: Absolutely. I am. I think that it's something I'm really cautious not to push on anyone, but whenever patients bring up faith and want to talk about that or when they introduce that as a topic and make it clear that that's something that they are thinking about, then I'm definitely very open about that too.
Mikkael Sekeres: Well, that must be a comfort to them.
Maggie Cupit-Link: I hope so. It's a comfort to me as well. For me, I don't know how I would do this job and lose patients and children to death if I didn't believe in something more.
Mikkael Sekeres: It's beautifully said.
In this essay, you make a close connection to your patient and his mother when you write, "I imagined my own son contained in a hospital room, attached to an IV pole, vomiting from chemotherapy. I could feel the warmth of his skin against mine and the weight of his body on my chest. And as I looked back at Tristan's mother, I could only support her decision to hold her baby." What is the importance of this connection to patients, and are there any downsides? In other words, you know, in medical school, we're often taught to keep a distance, or there was an essay I wrote with Tim Gilligan, who's a GU oncologist and this incredible communicator, where we wonder if all the communication classes we're exposed to in medical school actually undo our natural communication and our natural connection because we figure, "Gee, if we have to take all these classes on communication, maybe we've got to communicate differently." What is the importance of this connection to patients, and are there any downsides? Like, should we keep a distance or not?
Maggie Cupit-Link: I don't know if we should, but I know that I can't. This is my gift and my curse. I think that taking care of someone with a sick baby, especially as a parent, is so human and so full of emotion that it's not possible for me not to feel that connection. Now, I do think there's a point at which I have to be careful that what I'm doing and what I'm expressing doesn't make it harder for them. I think it's important for them to know that I feel for them and that I am having these feelings, but I don't want it to become about me when I'm trying to help them. So I once in one of these medical school situations was told that the moment the family begins to comfort me might be a moment that I've known I've gone too far. And so I think that's a rule of thumb I think about is like, if I'm crying in this moment with this family, does that make them feel loved, or does that make them feel like they need to worry about me? And I think most of the time it just makes them feel loved, but that's sort of the tension there.
I think when it comes to me too, I've been unable so far to put up boundaries to protect myself emotionally. I don't know that I'm capable of that, but more importantly, I don't think that's authentic for me. And so I don't do that. I'm trying to process and grieve so that I can cope and continue to be the doctor and person that I am. But I refuse to put up emotional walls because I don't think that will serve the patient or be authentic to who I am as a person.
Mikkael Sekeres: You bring up a couple of really important notions, and the first is authenticity, being true to ourselves. And if we're not true to ourselves, our patients will see through that and wonder if we're not being true to them. And also having our antennae up to get the pulse of the room, to see how people are reacting to what we're doing and making sure that we're serving our patient's needs more than we're serving our own needs when we're actually in the clinic room with our patients.
Maggie Cupit-Link: Definitely, I agree. And and those scenarios in medical school, I remember just thinking to myself that it didn't make a lot of sense to me and that I was lucky that this class wasn't meant for me, that I'll just do what I feel is appropriate. And I always did really well in the simulations, but I had no way to articulate why I knew what to do. It just, for me, I was so lucky that part came naturally, and I think it does in many of us who find medicine as a calling. But I don't know how to teach or learn that.
Mikkael Sekeres: Well, you've seen it from the other side as well. I mean, you strike me as being a naturally empathic person and someone who's tuned into other people's emotions. But you've also been there. You're more tuned in than I am, having been someone who's had cancer. I've certainly had close family members who've had cancer, my mom has lung cancer, for example. So I've been in the role of somebody in the room who's supporting somebody with cancer, but I haven't myself had cancer the way you have.
Maggie Cupit-Link: It definitely impacts my empathy. And I think that I was surprised after becoming a mother how much that also changed things for me and impacted my empathy further. Until you're a parent, you really don't know the depth and intensity of your love for a child or a person. And it was only then that I realized how heartbreaking it might be to lose a child. It's very difficult to suppress that empathy. And that's when it might not be helpful sometimes is when I'm leaving work and thinking about someone who lost their baby and knowing that no matter how much I empathize with them, it's not going to fix it. It's been the first time in my career and maybe my life where I've had to tell myself that maybe it's okay not to have empathy in this moment. Like, maybe I should turn it off for a little bit so that I can relax and enjoy my baby.
Mikkael Sekeres: My God, it's such an interesting perspective. I think as oncologists, we have this different perspective on illness and, and if we're smart about it, if we're really focused and in the moment, we appreciate the aspects of life and realize how precious they can be. And that can be a lovely thing and something we pass on to our kids. I will tell you, my own children have accused me of brushing off some of their maladies with the refrain, "Well, it may hurt you, but it's not leukemia."
Maggie Cupit-Link: I've heard that's common with physician's children, but it takes a lot to get a rise out of the parent.
Mikkael Sekeres: You write at one point in the essay, "At first, I believed that I had no right to grieve in this way, that it was his mother's grief, Tristan's mother, not mine. I reminded myself that I was not Tristan's mother. I did not give birth to him or name him." Now, we recently published an essay about grieving called "Are You Bereaved?" by Trisha Paul, where she also wonders whether we as oncologists have a right to grieve. What do you think? Do we?
Maggie Cupit-Link: I have to note that Trisha and I were co-fellows together in our training, so I'm happy that you mentioned her. And I need to go read that essay. I haven't read that one, so I will.
It's weird to wonder if we have the right to grieve. My grandmother is a psychologist, and I remember as a child saying like, "I know I shouldn't feel this way, but" about some random thing. And I remember her saying, "Feelings aren't 'should'. Feelings just 'are'." So like, maybe it doesn't matter if we should or shouldn't, but if we are grieving, we're grieving.
I think in some ways it feels like I don't have the right to grieve because I have this wonderful, happy life. And this can be true of survivorship as well when I'm taking care of many children who won't get to be survivors, especially because I care for a lot of sarcoma patients. But I often wonder like, "Am I allowed to be this happy," or "am I allowed to not be happy because there's so much grief in their lives?" So it's hard. I feel this tension often like, I'm not allowed to grieve as much as this mom, but also I better be really, really happy because I'm okay and my baby's okay. It's hard when we compare our emotions to other people's who are going through different things. But it, but it's hard not to wonder, like, "Am I allowed to feel this way?" "Am I supposed to feel this way?" For me, that's when writing is helpful. Just writing down what I feel in great detail helps me move through the feelings, I guess.
Mikkael Sekeres: Part of the processing of it.
You described the code call for your patient vividly. You know, you draw us as readers into your essay and into that moment. We've all been in that moment. I remember when I was just talking to somebody about when I was in the intensive care unit, when I was a resident, and how at that time, a psychiatrist actually met with us every week to help us process what we were seeing in the intensive care unit, which was really remarkably forward thinking for how long ago I trained.
Maggie Cupit-Link: That's really great.
Mikkael Sekeres: How did you process it in real time and afterwards though?
Maggie Cupit-Link: That day, even now, an aspect of me was dreading this conversation because I feel nauseated when I think back to that day, to that code, and I feel like I'm going to cry. And I don't feel like that in every code, but I think it was because of the parallels between the little boy and my baby. To note, my baby, Houston, he is a big, bald, fat faced baby with a binky in his mouth at all times, and Tristan was a fat, bald baby with a binky in his mouth at all times. And so even though there was a bit of an age difference, when I saw Tristan, I just thought of Houston, and I couldn't separate that.
I feel often when I'm doing a lumbar puncture or running a code in real time on a patient, I can sort of dehumanize to the degree that's helpful where I just do what needs to be done and put aside the ick feelings. But with that child, in that code, I couldn't. And luckily I didn't have to do anything but stand there and tell them when to stop or just be supportive, but I felt sick. I felt like I couldn't do anything to help. I didn't feel like a doctor in that moment. I felt like a family member of that child. And that was really difficult.
I was so lucky, and I don't know how much the piece reflects this, but the other doctor who was there, the other oncologist, is a mentor of mine who's older than me and wiser than me and very experienced. And I call her my 'work mom' lovingly. She was there, and she stepped in and helped me and checked on me and made me feel like I could handle things. It would have been much worse without her there.
Mikkael Sekeres: We're fortunate when we do have our friends and colleagues to help process this because if you're not in this field, at that moment it's hard to understand just how deeply we can also feel the pain that our patients are going through.
Maggie Cupit-Link: Absolutely.
Mikkael Sekeres: And I do hope you'll retain that description of Houston for when you give the speech at his wedding because I'm sure he'd appreciate that.
Maggie Cupit-Link: The big fat bald binky baby. Yes. Houston is now in his 'mama phase' where if I'm not holding him at all times, he fake cries, "Mama," until I do pick him up. So it's been exhausting physically, but I must pick him up.
Mikkael Sekeres: I have to say it has been such a pleasure having you, Maggie Cupit-Link, join us to discuss your essay, "Mother's Grief." Thank you so much for submitting your article and for joining us today.
Maggie Cupit-Link: Thank you so much for having me, and thank you for everyone for reading.
Mikkael Sekeres: If you've enjoyed this episode, consider sharing it with a friend or colleague or leave us a review. Your feedback and support helps us continue to have these important conversations. If you're looking for more episodes and context, follow our show on Apple, Spotify, or wherever you listen and explore more from ASCO at asco.org/podcasts.
Until next time, this has been Mikkael Sekeres for JCO's Cancer Stories: The Art of Oncology.
The purpose of this podcast is to educate and to inform. This is not a substitute for professional medical care and is not intended for use in the diagnosis or treatment of individual conditions.
Guests on this podcast express their own opinions, experience, and conclusions. Guest statements on the podcast do not express the opinions of ASCO. The mention of any product, service, organization, activity, or therapy should not be construed as an ASCO endorsement.
Show Notes:
Like, share and subscribe so you never miss an episode and leave a rating or review.
 
Guest Bio:
Dr Margaret Cupit-Link is an assistant professor of pediatric hematology/oncology at Cardinal Glennon Children's Hospital of St. Louis University.
 
Additional Reading: 
It Mattered Later
Why, God?: Suffering Through Cancer into Faith, by Margaret Carlisle Cupit, et al

Listen now to the latest episode of JCO Cancer Stories: The Art of Oncology, North Star, by Dr Manuela Spadea. As a pediatric oncologist, Spadea shares a luminous, gut-honest reflection that reminds us that beyond protocols and outcomes, the deepest medicine is presence.
TRANSCRIPT
Narrator: North Star, by Manuela Spadea, MD 
Mikkael Sekeres: Welcome back to JCO's Cancer Stories: The Art of Oncology. This ASCO podcast features intimate narratives and perspectives from authors exploring their experiences in oncology. I am your host, Mikkael Sekeres. I am professor of medicine and Chief of the Division of Hematology at the Sylvester Comprehensive Cancer Center, University of Miami.
What a pleasure it is to have joining us today Manuela Spadea, an assistant professor of pediatrics at the University of Turin in Italy and consultant oncologist at the Regina Margherita Children's Hospital in Turin, Italy. We will discuss her Journal of Clinical Oncology article and second place winner in our Narrative Medicine Contest, "North Star."
At the time of this recording, our guest has no disclosures.
We have agreed to address each other by first names.
Manuela, thank you for contributing to the Journal of Clinical Oncology and to our Narrative Medicine Contest, and especially for joining us to discuss your winning article today.
Manuela Spadea: Hi Mikkael. Thank you for having me today. It is a pleasure and an honor being invited to speak with you.
Mikkael Sekeres: No, the pleasure and honor is mine, I promise. You know, on these podcasts, I often like to ask our guests to tell us something about yourself. Where are you from, and walk us through your career and where you are right now.
Manuela Spadea: Sure. I am from Italy. I work in Turin, where I work as a consultant pediatrician, a consultant oncologist, and also as an assistant professor of pediatrics. So my work is divided in these two duties: clinical duties on one hand and on the other hand, research and also teaching activities.
I was drawn to choose pediatric oncology because this sits at the intersection of science and humanity, in my opinion, of course. I think that in pediatric oncology, we face different and several challenges, so we need to perform at our best in diagnosis, treatment, and whatever. But also, we are asked to not forget being human and to connect always with our children and their families. So it was basically this intersection, this connection between science, research on one hand, and humanity and heart on the other hand that led me to what I am today.
Mikkael Sekeres: It is a fantastic explanation, and it is interesting how you have framed that, that there is an aspect of arts and humanities that you have found in focusing on pediatric hematology oncology. I do think that is more so than what we face in adult oncology.
Manuela Spadea: I think that it is kind of different because if you think about our world and you think about a sentence, just putting the words 'child', 'cancer', and 'death' in the same sentence is very hard to think about. An adult is someone that has already had the chance and the gift to grow up.
Mikkael Sekeres: Huh. It is an interesting perspective on it.
Manuela Spadea: Yeah. A child is someone who is growing up and cancer stays in between his possibility to become an adult or not.
Mikkael Sekeres: So the emotional burden right out of the gate of having a child with cancer and the possibility of death and the reaction to the compromise of a full life and the shortening of a full life automatically invokes that extra step of humanity and arts and how we have to approach a medical situation. I had not heard somebody put that into a concise phrase like that before, but you are absolutely right.
When did you start writing narrative pieces?
Manuela Spadea: I started writing when I was an adolescent, basically. And writing for me was a way to cope with whatever kind of feeling I felt during my life and during what I experienced as a human beforehand. But thereafter, when I became a clinician, writing was a way to cope with difficult shifts or hard nights in which you are asked to make very hard decisions as a clinician.
Mikkael Sekeres: Often, either on this podcast or outside of it, doctors will approach me and want to get into writing and write a piece. And I think what many people do not realize is it is entirely possible later in life to start writing and to be very skilled at it. Many of our authors for JCO's Art of Oncology, though, have been writing their entire lives. It is not like they woke up one morning and decided, "Today I am going to write and I am going to write creatively." We have all been working on it for decades.
Manuela Spadea: Sure.
Mikkael Sekeres: I wonder who are some of your favorite authors or are there writers who have influenced your own writing?
Manuela Spadea: I would go with Paulo Coelho and Alda Merini. The reasons are very different because from Paulo Coelho, I learned how to express life as a journey and how to use and exploit, of course, symbolic images to express what we want to tell to our readers. From Alda Merini, I learned that pain and suffering are worthy of being mentioned and they still deserve a place in our writings. And she taught me how to collocate, how to find the right place and the right words to express pain and suffering that are parts of our life, of course, in pediatric oncology, of course, and are worthy being expressed in a manner that can reach our readers and touch them.
Mikkael Sekeres: Well, as you have beautifully in your essay, I wonder if you could give us an example of a symbolic image.
Manuela Spadea: For example, referring to my essay, "North Star." I chose the North Star because it is a very important image because it recalls to us about being a fixed point in a collapsing world. Basically, it is the world of our children that is collapsing and you are the one who represents this fixed point, this anchor.
Mikkael Sekeres: So in your essay, which our entire editorial staff just loved, you write about, and I am going to quote you to you, which is always a little bit awkward, but here I go. You write about "the unbearable beautiful vulnerability of being a North Star for a child with cancer." And you write, "We never call it that, of course, not in rounds, not in protocols, but that is what we become: a fixed point in a collapsing sky. When nothing else makes sense, when numbers fail and outcomes blur, they look to us, not because we promise survival, but because we promise we won't leave." Wow. I mean, that is an incredible collection of sentences. I wonder, in our relationships with our patients, when does that happen? When do we become a North Star?
Manuela Spadea: I think that we become a North Star when our patients experience our humanity because they can trust us, not only for our degrees or our experience as clinicians, physicians, researcher, whatsoever. They trust us as a North Star when they feel that we are empathetic with them, when they know that we are feeling what they are experiencing. And so they leave their feelings to us, they share their feelings and they begin to connect with us.
Mikkael Sekeres: When does that happen in the timeline of when we meet a patient? Is that something that can happen at our very first meeting where a patient may identify us or a member of our team as their North Star, or is that something that only happens over time as we build trust and build empathy?
Manuela Spadea: It is definitely something that happens over time, day by day. Sometimes, but only occasionally, in my opinion, it can happen on the very first days, for example, the days in which we give them the diagnosis. But these are only small occasions because in the majority of cases, in my experience, the trust is built day by day.
Mikkael Sekeres: There are also times that doesn't happen, though, right? What are those scenarios like when either patients do not need us to be a North Star or when that deep connection never happens?
Manuela Spadea: I think that these are very challenging situations. It can happen when outcomes blur, of course, because sometimes patients are experiencing too much suffering and they cannot share with us because they are not able of sharing with us their feelings. Sometimes it is just because you are not their North Star. Sometimes it is inexplicable, basically. "I do not trust you, not because you are not what I am looking for, but because I do not feel I can trust you. And I do not know how to explain because I cannot trust you."
Mikkael Sekeres: It is interesting. It is complicated to develop that relationship where you become a North Star. It sounds like what you are saying is it is a combination of trust, first and foremost, honesty, attentiveness to a patient's needs, and time.
Manuela Spadea:Sure.
Mikkael Sekeres: In your piece, you write about a couple of patients you have treated, Eva and Cecilia, and you write, "In both Eva's and Cecilia's journeys, I was not the most experienced doctor in the hospital. I wasn't the one who had written the protocol they were enrolled in or published the paper that dramatically shifted their chances. But I was the one who stayed, the one they chose. Incredibly, this is both a gift and a responsibility." There is a lot in those sentences, Manuela. You give patients the agency to identify us as a North Star, not us. Can you talk about that a little bit?
Manuela Spadea: I think that there is a word in pediatric oncology that could be used as recurrent. And this word is 'impossible'. Why I chose this word? Because we live impossible diagnosis. Let's be honest. Impossible diagnosis, impossible suffering, impossible losses. When you face the impossible, being a North Star without being burned out by this, it is accepting that you are going to face uncertainty just being present. Because you are not the one that will change the outcome, or you can't be sure that that child will have the chance to survive. So if you give the possibility to face the uncertainty, being sure that whenever it goes, you can just be present for your patient and remember every day to your patient that you are there for them. So basically you win.
And on the other hand, you also need to protect yourself because being a North Star is a responsibility, as I wrote. And a responsibility can be overwhelming for the one who is responsible for that child. So in that case, the only thing that can protect you is taking the part of being a North Star with boundaries. So you should also try to maintain your objectivity as a clinician and protect that objectivity that allows you to also serve as a good clinician.
Mikkael Sekeres: So I wonder if I could follow up on that a little bit. It is a lot of work to be a North Star, isn't it? I mean, we have to choose our words and our actions so very carefully when we are in a room with a patient and that patient's family. Do you think serving as a North Star contributes to burnout or is it actually the opposite? It keeps our work vibrant and real?
Manuela Spadea: Good question. I think that it is both, indeed. I think that burning out comes not by being a North Star, but by being a North Star in isolation, without caring about yourself, without finding a way to cope with your grief, with your sense of fear because we are human, so it is basically we experience these feelings. I mean, if we do not have a way to cope and to protect our feelings, we can absolutely go into burnout. On the other hand, it can be very important thing for our work because it can give our work the possibility to be vibrant and real because we are allowed to take the journey of our patient in a moment in which their journey is very unbearable. This is also not only a responsibility, but also a very important place that we have in their lives. This is very beautiful for me. This is astonishing because we are allowed to enter our patients' lives in a very difficult moment, and we can walk with them. Basically, being present and walking through what cancer journeys reserve for them.
Mikkael Sekeres: Well, I think that is a lovely place to end our podcast. What a real pleasure it has been to have Manuela Spadea, who is an assistant professor of pediatrics at the University of Turin, Italy, and consultant oncologist at the Regina Margherita Children's Hospital in Turin, Italy, to discuss her essay, "North Star." Manuela, thank you so much for submitting your article both to JCO and to our contest, and for joining us today.
Manuela Spadea: Thank you, Mikkael. It has been an honor to share these stories with you.
Mikkael Sekeres: If you have enjoyed this episode, consider sharing it with a friend or colleague or leave us a review. Your feedback and support helps us continue to have these important conversations. If you are looking for more episodes and context, follow our show on Apple, Spotify, or wherever you listen, and explore more from ASCO at asco.org/podcasts.
Until next time, this has been Mikkael Sekeres for JCO Cancer Stories: The Art of Oncology.
The purpose of this podcast is to educate and to inform. This is not a substitute for professional medical care and is not intended for use in the diagnosis or treatment of individual conditions.
Guests on this podcast express their own opinions, experience, and conclusions. Guest statements on the podcast do not express the opinions of ASCO. The mention of any product, service, organization, activity, or therapy should not be construed as an ASCO endorsement.
Show Notes:
Like, share and subscribe so you never miss an episode and leave a rating or review.


Guest Bio:
Dr Manuela Spadea is an Assistant Professor of Pediatrics at the University of Turin, Italy, and Consultant Oncologist at the Regina Margherita Children's Hospital, in Turin, Italy.

Listen to JCO's Art of Oncology article, "A Chance to Heal with Cold Hard Steel" by Dr. Taylor Goodstein, who is a fellow at Emory University. The article is followed by an interview with Goodstein and host Dr. Mikkael Sekeres. Dr. Goodstein shares a story about surgery, grief, and being courageous in the face of one's own fallibility.
TRANSCRIPT
Narrator: A Chance to Heal with Cold Hard Steel, Taylor Goodstein, MD
Mikkael Sekeres: Welcome back to JCO's Cancer Stories: The Art of Oncology. This ASCO podcast features intimate narratives and perspectives from authors exploring their experiences in oncology. I am your host, Mikkael Sekeres. I am Professor of Medicine and Chief of the Division of Hematology at the Sylvester Comprehensive Cancer Center, University of Miami. Joining us today is Dr. Taylor Goodstein, urologic oncology fellow at Emory University and our first Narrative Medicine Contest winner, to discuss her Journal of Clinical Oncology article, "A Chance to Heal with Cold Hard Steel."
Dr. Goodstein and I have agreed to address each other by first names.
Taylor, thank you for contributing to the Journal of Clinical Oncology, to our contest, and for joining us to discuss your winning article.
Taylor Goodstein: Thank you so much for having me. This is a great honor.
Mikkael Sekeres: The honor was ours, actually. We had, if you haven't heard, a very competitive contest. We had a total of 159 entries. We went through a couple of iterations of evaluating every entry to make it to our top five, and then you were the winner. So thank you so much for contributing this outstanding essay both to our Art of Oncology Narrative Medicine Contest and also ultimately to JCO.
Taylor Goodstein: Oh, thank you so much.
Mikkael Sekeres: So, I was wondering if we could start by asking you to tell us something about yourself. Where are you from, and walk us through your career and how you made it to this point?
Taylor Goodstein: Well, I grew up in a small town in Colorado - Glenwood Springs, Colorado. It is on the Western Slope, about 45 minutes north of Aspen. I went all the way to the east coast for college, where I ended up minoring in creative writing. So writing has been a part of my medical journey kind of throughout. I went to medical school back in Colorado at University of Colorado in Aurora, and then I did my residency training at he Ohio State University in Columbus, Ohio. And now I am at Emory University for fellowship. And I have been kind of writing all throughout, trying to make sense of the various journeys we go on throughout the experiences we have with going through our medical training.
Mikkael Sekeres: That is amazing, and I noticed how you emphasized the "The" in Ohio State University.
Taylor Goodstein: Yes, we fought hard for that "The."
Mikkael Sekeres: Right, as do we at The University of Miami. Yes.
What drew you to surgery, and specifically surgical oncology?
Taylor Goodstein: My dad is a surgeon. My dad is an ear, nose, and throat doctor. And I am essentially him. We are the same person, and it made him very, very happy. So when I was looking at different medical specialties, I knew I was going to do a surgical subspecialty, and that is what I was drawn to. And then I was looking for the one that felt right, ended up finding urology, and then throughout my residency journey, I really gravitated towards cancer care. I really loved the patient population taking care of cancer patients, and surgically it felt like a way that I was going to be engaged and challenged throughout my career as there is so much that is always changing in oncology, almost too fast to keep up with all of it. But that is what really, ultimately, drew me to that career path.
Mikkael Sekeres: It is great that you had a role model in your dad as well to bring you into this field.
Taylor Goodstein: Well, he is very disappointed that I did urology rather than ENT, and he's in private and I am going into academics, so there is plenty of room for disappointment.
Mikkael Sekeres: I am sure the last thing in the world he is is disappointed in you. And I will say, so I am able to see your background here, our listeners of course are listening to a podcast and they are not. You have a very impressive bookshelf with a lot of different types of books on it.
Taylor Goodstein: This is your guys' background! This was the option of one of the backgrounds I could choose for coming onto this. I didn't want to do my real background because I have a cat who is wandering around and was going to be very distracting.
Mikkael Sekeres: That's funny!
Taylor Goodstein: But I did like the books. The books felt like a good option for me. I do have a big bookshelf; books are very important to me. I don't do anything on Kindle. I like the paper and stuff like that, so I do have a big bookshelf.
Mikkael Sekeres: There is something rewarding in the tactile feel of actually turning a page of a book.
You did writing from a very early stage as well. I was an English minor undergrad and then focused on creative writing as well and continued taking creative writing courses in medical school. Were you able to continue that during medical school and then in your training?
Taylor Goodstein: Yeah, I thought that is what I was going to do when I first went to college. Like, I thought I was going to be a journalist or writer of some kind, and then I think maybe the crisis of job security hit me a little bit, and then also my desire to work with my hands and work with people. I wanted something to write about, something about my life that would be very interesting to write about, and that sort of led me initially to medicine. But then yes, to answer your question, I have been participating in a lot of writing competitions, like through the AUA, the American Urological Association, they do one every year that I have been doing in residency. And then in medical school we had some electives that involved writing and medical literature that we did. There was a collection of student writings, a book that got published during my last year of medical school that I had a couple of essays in.
And the journey changes over time. When you are a medical student, you are on this grand journey and you are so excited to be there, but at the same time you feel so incredibly unprepared and useless in a lot of ways. You are just this medical student. The whole medical machinery is this well-oiled cog rotating together, and you are just this wild little- by yourself just trying to fit in. And that experience really resonated with me. And then residency has its own things that you are trying to make sense of. I think it all pales in comparison to what it is like to be a new surgeon for the first time, taking not necessarily your first big case but early in your career and having complications and making difficult decisions. I think is one of the hardest things that we probably have to deal with.
Mikkael Sekeres: Well, you write about this in an absolutely riveting way. When you and your attending, you are a fellow on this case with your attending, realize that in the mess of this aggressive tumor that you are trying to resect, you have removed the patient's external iliac artery and vein, you write, and I am going to quote you now to you, which is always a little awkward, but I am going to do it anyway: "It is hard to explain what it feels like. Belly drops, hands shake, lungs slow down, and heart speeds up. It takes several seconds, marked out by the beeping metronome of the patient's own heartbeat, but eventually we return to our bodies, ready to face the error we cannot undo." As a reader, you are transported with you into that moment when, oh my God, you realize what did we do in this tremendous tumor resection you were undertaking? What was going through your mind at that moment?
Taylor Goodstein: This is going to sound maybe a little bit funny, but I always think about this line from Frozen 2. I don't know if you have any kids or you have seen Frozen 2.
Mikkael Sekeres: I have kids, and I have seen Frozen, but I have to admit I have not seen Frozen 2, and that is obviously lacking in my library of experiences.
Taylor Goodstein: Frozen 2 is incredible, way better than Frozen 1. The adult themes in Frozen 2 go above and beyond anything in Frozen 1. But they are faced with some really big challenges and one of the themes that happens in that movie is all you can do is the next right thing. And it gets said several times. I remember connecting to that when I saw the movie, and I have said it to myself so many times in the OR since. You can't go backwards, you can't change what just happened. So all you can do is the next right thing. And so I think once the shock of what had happened kind of fades, all I am thinking in my head is like, "Okay, what is the next right thing to do here?" And obviously that was calling the vascular surgeon, and thankfully he was there and able to come in and do what needed to be done to restore flow to the patient's leg.
Mikkael Sekeres: It is so interesting how we are able to compartmentalize in the moment our emotions. The way you write about this and the way you express yourself in this essay, you are horrified by what has happened. This is a terrible thing, yet you are able to separate yourself from that and move forward and just do the right thing for the patient at that time and get your patient out of this and yourself out of this situation.
Taylor Goodstein: I think that is honestly, and maybe not for everybody, but for me that has been one of the challenges of becoming a surgeon is learning that level of emotional control, because all you want to do is cry and scream and pull your hair out and hit your fists against the table, but you can't do that. You have to remain in charge of that ship and keep things moving forward. And it is one of those hidden skills that you have to learn when you are going to be a surgeon that you don't get taught in medical school, and you kind of learn on the job in residency, but there is not as much explicit training that goes into that level of emotional control that you have to have. And I have kind of gone on my own self-journey to get there that has been very deliberate for me.
Mikkael Sekeres: That is amazing. Do you think as we progress through our careers, and I don't want to use a term that is so dismissive, but maybe I will try it anyway, that we become more nonchalant about surgeries or writing for chemotherapy or radiation therapy to deal with cancer, or is that fear, that notion of "with great power comes great responsibility," to loosely quote Spider-Man, is that always there? Do we always pause before we start the surgery, write for the chemotherapy, or write for the radiation therapy and say, "Wait a second, what am I doing here?"
Taylor Goodstein: I think it is always there, and I would argue that it even grows as you get farther along in your practice and you gain this collection of experiences that you have as a surgeon where you develop complications and from that you change your practice, you change the way you operate, the way you consider certain operative characteristics. I would argue that, as time goes on, you probably get more cautious approaching surgery for patients, more cautious considering the side effects of different treatment options that people have.
Mikkael Sekeres: I think that is right. There is danger in reflecting on the anecdotes of your career experience to guide future treatments, but there is also some value to remembering those times when something went wrong or when it almost went wrong and why we have to check ourselves before doing what may become routine at one point in our careers, and that routineness may be doing a surgery or writing for chemotherapy, but always remembering that there is great danger in what we are about to embark on.
Taylor Goodstein: Always, yeah.
Mikkael Sekeres: Taylor, what makes this story really special and one of the reasons it won our Art of Oncology Narrative Medicine Contest is just how deep you plunged into reflecting on this surgery. And you write, I am going to quote you to you again, you reflect on how people may criticize you and your attending for embarking on this surgery, but you say: "They never met him, not like you did. They did not see him buckled over in pain, desperation in his eyes. They did not hand his wife tissues or look at photos of his pregnant daughter or hear about his dream of making it to Italy one day. They did not hug his family at the end of it all and cry together as he rattled out sharp breaths. And they certainly did not know how much it meant to get two months free of pain and just enough time to meet his granddaughter." There is a hard truth you write it just perfectly, there is a hard truth to why we don't always follow CMS guidelines for not offering treatment at the end of life, isn't there?
Taylor Goodstein: Yeah, it is tough. And you know, I think a lot about this because I have heard a few times to be cautious of the armchair quarterbacks, specifically when you are talking about M&Ms. It is so easy to come in at the other side of a bad outcome and talk about how you shouldn't have done this, you shouldn't have done that. And to be fair, during the M&M in question, as I think back to it, the feedback for the most part was very constructive and ways to maybe be more prepared coming into a surgery like this. Like, there were questions about whether - here at Emory, we operate over various different hospitals - of whether the hospital, it should have been done at an even different hospital was like one of the questions, that maybe had more resources. So things like that, but it is hard I think when you get that question like, maybe you shouldn't have operated. And there is- I think one of the lessons I learned here is being unresectable doesn't mean you can't resect the tumor. We say the word 'unresectable', like we obviously we resected it, but what was the cost of that, obviously? Like we can resect a lot of things, but how much collateral gets damaged in the process of doing that?
However, it is a very challenging question. I mean, this guy had one option really. I mean, chemo wasn't going to work, radiation wasn't going to work, and his goals were different than our goals are necessarily when we talk about cancer care. He wanted to be free of pain, he wanted to be able to go home. He was admitted to the hospital, he was on an IV, like Dilaudid, like he could not get off of a PCA because of how much pain he was in. And he just wanted to go home and be there for the birth of his granddaughter, and that is what we tried to do for him. In which case we were successful, but in everything else, we were not.
Mikkael Sekeres: And you were successful. I could imagine that when people are in pain, their immediate goal of course is to get rid of the pain. Being in pain is an awful place to be. But with the impending birth of his granddaughter, I have to imagine you realign what your goals are, and that must have been primary for him, and you got him there.
Taylor Goodstein: We did. I also talked a little bit about this later on, this idea of providing peace for families. I think that there is this sense of maybe peace and acceptance that comes from having tried to do the long shot surgery, that if you had never tried, if you come to them right away and you say, "Oh, this is- I can guarantee that this isn't ultimately going to end up well," there is still like that what's going to linger in the back of their mind if it never gets attempted versus, okay, we tried, it failed, and now we can come with this almost like satisfaction or comfort knowing that we did everything we could. So I guess I think a little bit about that as well.
Mikkael Sekeres: Well, I think that is a beautiful place to end this as well. There are so many factors we have to consider when we embark on this cancer journey with our patients and when we make recommendations for treatment, and it sounds like, and it is so beautifully reflected in your essay that you thought extremely holistically about this patient and what his goals were and appreciated that those goals had to be severely modified once he had his cancer diagnosis.
Taylor Goodstein: I think the most important sentence is, "I still don't know what the right answer is." And I think that is important for me to end on.
Mikkael Sekeres: Well, and you are still in training. I think it is so important to acknowledge that. When you are training, it is important to acknowledge it when you are at my stage of my career as well. There are still encounters where I come out and I think to myself, I am just still not 100 percent sure what the right thing to do is. But often we let our patients guide us, and we let their goals guide us, and then we know that at least it is right for that person.
Taylor Goodstein: Yeah, exactly.
Mikkael Sekeres: Well, it has been such a pleasure to have Dr. Taylor Goodstein, who is a fellow at Emory University, to discuss her outstanding essay, "A Chance to Heal with Cold Hard Steel."
Taylor, thank you so much for submitting your entry to our first Art of Oncology Narrative Medicine Contest, for winning it, and for joining us today.
Taylor Goodstein: Thank you so much for having me.
Mikkael Sekeres: If you have enjoyed this episode, consider sharing it with a friend or colleague, or leave us a review. Your feedback and support help us continue to have these important conversations. If you are looking for more episodes and context, follow our show on Apple, Spotify, or wherever you listen, and explore more from ASCO at asco.org/podcasts. Until next time, this has been Mikkael Sekeres for JCO Cancer Stories: The Art of Oncology.
The purpose of this podcast is to educate and to inform. This is not a substitute for professional medical care and is not intended for use in the diagnosis or treatment of individual conditions.
Guests on this podcast express their own opinions, experience, and conclusions. Guest statements on the podcast do not express the opinions of ASCO. The mention of any product, service, organization, activity, or therapy should not be construed as an ASCO endorsement.
Show Notes:
 
Like, share and subscribe so you never miss an episode and leave a rating or review.


Guest Bio:
Dr Taylor Goodstein is a Fellow at Emory University.