Cancer Stories: The Art of Oncology

The award-winning podcast JCO Cancer Stories: The Art of Oncology invites you on an intimate journey with heartfelt narratives, poignant reflections, and thoughtful dialogues. Hosted by Dr. Mikkael Sekeres, the podcast explores the hidden emotions, intense experiences, and resilient strength of clinicians, caregivers, and those living with cancer. This podcast is essential for nourishing the "art" behind the science of oncology.

  1. The Power of "I Don't Know": Why Admitting Uncertainty is an Oncologist's Greatest Strength

    24 MAR

    The Power of "I Don't Know": Why Admitting Uncertainty is an Oncologist's Greatest Strength

    Listen to JCO's Art of Oncology article, "The Power of "I Don't Know" by Dr. Sondos Zayed, who is a radiation oncologist at The Ottawa Hospital and an assistant professor at the University of Ottawa, Canada. The article is followed by an interview with Zayed and host Dr. Mikkael Sekeres. Dr Zayed shares a reflection on the unexpected power of saying "I don't know," and how honest uncertainty can deepen trust, guide care and create space for what truly matters in oncology. TRANSCRIPT Narrator: The Power of "I Don't Know", Sondos, Zayed, MD, MPH, FRCPC  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. Joining us today is Dr. Sondos Zayed, a radiation oncologist at the Ottawa Hospital and Assistant Professor at the University of Ottawa, Canada, to discuss her Journal of Clinical Oncology article, "The Power of I Don't Know." At the time of this recording, our guest has no disclosures. She and I have agreed to address each other by first names. Sondos, thank you for contributing to the Journal of Clinical Oncology, and what a pleasure it is to have you join us to discuss your article. Dr. Sondos Zayed: Thank you so much for having me. It's a privilege. Mikkael Sekeres: Can you tell us a little bit about yourself? Where are you from? And walk us through your career up to this point. Dr. Sondos Zayed: Yeah, oh my goodness. So it seems like such a long road and yet so many years left in my career, hopefully. You know, I'm Canadian, and I had the opportunity to grow up in Montreal, which was wonderful, and I went to McGill Medical School, and then after that pursued Radiation Oncology Residency at Western University. And following that I did a fellowship specializing in GI and CNS malignancies with MR-Linac technology in Toronto, and eventually landed in Ottawa, where right now I'm a radiation oncologist treating GI and CNS malignancies and an Assistant Professor at the University of Ottawa. Mikkael Sekeres: That's fantastic. How far are you out of training? Dr. Sondos Zayed: Well, this would be officially my second year essentially as an independent radiation oncologist. Mikkael Sekeres: Wonderful. And I'm curious, what drew you to radiation oncology? Dr. Sondos Zayed: I always say that it was meant to be. And the reason being, when I was in medical school at McGill, they parachuted us out into very niche specialties that we wouldn't otherwise have exposure to. And essentially the way that they would do that is they'd send us an email and say, you know, "Show up at this place, at this location. Here's attached a PowerPoint, just review it before you go." And I get this email and the PowerPoint is talking about, you know, photons and electrons, linear accelerators. And I'm like, "I have no idea what's going on. This is so confusing." I thought I was in medicine. And so I do follow the instructions and I was so lucky that I had such a wonderful supervisor, and he showed me the machines and I saw the coolest cases that day, and it was just such a wonderful experience and the most captivating. And so I just kept on wanting to go back. And the rest is literally history. The really, really fascinating thing about radiation oncology is that it's the mix of physics, it's a mix of like technology, and at the same time there's the medicine and the clinical aspect of it. And there's obviously the privilege to be able to support patients on their most vulnerable journeys with their cancer diagnosis and treatment, et cetera. And so it's a mix of the most interesting things all around and I felt like the best fit for me. Mikkael Sekeres: Well, your passion for it is absolutely palpable. It's really fun to hear the excitement in your voice. Isn't it interesting how one mentor can make the difference in the career path we choose? Dr. Sondos Zayed: Absolutely. Never underestimate the impact they can have on any single trainee at any point in time. It really does turn things around for many people, and it can inspire them to pursue something that they would have never thought of pursuing before. Mikkael Sekeres: I had a very similar experience. It was during fellowship that my very first month of fellowship I was placed on the leukemia service with Rich Stone at Dana-Farber, and I never turned back. He was such a fabulous mentor. I couldn't imagine doing anything else with my career. You write this piece. We loved this piece when you submitted it, myself and the editorial staff. And you write it from the perspective of someone who has recently finished fellowship, which you have. And you write in particular that- this one quote, "During my first year as an attending, I had braced for the steep learning curve, the finality of being the decision maker, the quiet hours at night when treatment decisions still played in my head. What I hadn't prepared for was the weight of uncertainty." It's a great line. So now that you're on the other side of training, what do you think could have prepared you better for the weight of uncertainty? Dr. Sondos Zayed: I had such wonderful mentors throughout my training, and so they were fantastic and I learned so much from them, but sometimes it just took having to be the final decision maker for me not to have to have the security of somebody to just turn back to immediately after a patient encounter, for example, and be like, "Oh, my supervisor can answer this question," or, "Here are my thoughts, but my attending can also join in the discussion," or give their thoughts as well. So that sort of cushion is no longer there. And so when I'm in the room by myself making those decisions with patients, nothing can really prepare you for that. You just have to go in and then do it yourself. Mikkael Sekeres: There is a safety net to training by design and thank God there is, right? Where we can always turn to somebody more experienced than us to answer those hard questions or to know what to do. And that's what's pulled out from under us when we become attendings, when we become the final pathway, when people suddenly turn to us and say, "Okay, what are we going to do here?" or, "What's the answer?" Did anybody during your training model "I don't know"? So did you see your own attendings say "I don't know" to patients and see how that played out? Dr. Sondos Zayed: Not as much, and I think there's a culture in medicine where when people walk into that room, they're hoping that you have all the answers, and you don't want to disappoint them. And so sometimes what we do is we rely on like the evidence and the data and the numbers that are in the literature to answer questions that the patient is asking in an absolute way but we answer it in a probability or a percentage or, "Most likely this will happen," or, "These are the potential, you know, this is the median overall survival," or, "Progression-free survival," or, "This percentage of people have this toxicity," for example. And so it's easy for us to fall back on that cushion of, "These are the numbers and the evidence." And that's what I saw modeled most frequently. But when I started practicing as an attending, what I realized is that when a patient comes in and they sit in front of you, they ask, "How long am I going to live?" What they're asking about is how long they specifically are going to live and not what the median survival in X study is telling us that that's how long they most likely would live, just as an example. And so what I had to do, when I'm speaking to patients, I kind of separate those two concepts where I start with, "I don't know, because I don't have a crystal ball, and your circumstances and how you respond to treatment is something that I can't predict before anything has started. And it's it's just I really don't know. But what I can say is on average in this study, this is what we see, and there's a 95% confidence interval, and most people fall within that." And so I separate their immediate outcome with the data that we have. So that- because sometimes when I say, "Oh, your median survival is one year," they hear, "I'm going to only live for one year." And then you always have these patients that come through and be like, "You know, they told me I only had six months to live, but here I am two years later." And really it is again, we live in a world of probabilities and confidence intervals, but for the patients themselves, this is their life. Mikkael Sekeres: Yeah. One of the aspects of your essay that I really liked is the title, "The Power of 'I Don't Know'" because saying, "I don't know," actually does have some power to it. And I've seen this demonstrated in a couple of different ways. I had a boss once who we'd all be in a meeting, and someone would ask a question, and the boss would say, "I don't know." And he said it in a way where one reaction from other people in the meeting could have been, "Oh, how could he be such an idiot and not know the answer to this?" But what wound up happening is people reacted to it by saying, "Gee, if he doesn't know, then it's okay that I don't know also. And maybe if he doesn't know, that means that maybe I thought I knew, but maybe I really don't know as well as I should." And it makes you kind of redouble your efforts to understand whatever's being communicated in the meeting. So I always thought that there was this power in saying, "I don't know," in meetings, but you bring up the power of "I don't know" in patient interactions. So tell me what is the power in saying, "I don't know," to a patient? What is it that that conveys to a patient and how does that affect the relationship that you have with your patients?

    24 min
  2. When Cancer Becomes a Headline: Reflections from the Clinic

    10 MAR

    When Cancer Becomes a Headline: Reflections from the Clinic

    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 th

    25 min
  3. Mother's Grief: Loss Through the Lens of Motherhood

    24 FEB

    Mother's Grief: Loss Through the Lens of Motherhood

    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 t

    31 min
  4. North Star: The Importance of Presence in Pediatric Oncology

    10 FEB

    North Star: The Importance of Presence in Pediatric Oncology

    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

    25 min
  5. A Chance to Heal with Cold Hard Steel: The Fine Surgical Line Between Healing and Harming

    27 JAN

    A Chance to Heal with Cold Hard Steel: The Fine Surgical Line Between Healing and Harming

    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 tha

    30 min
  6. The Quiet Work of Clarity: Seeing Into the Future at the End of Life

    13 JAN

    The Quiet Work of Clarity: Seeing Into the Future at the End of Life

    Listen to JCO's Art of Oncology article, "The Quiet Work of Clarity" by Dr. Henry Bair, who is an ophthalmology resident physician at Wills Eye Hospital. The article is followed by an interview with Bair and host Dr. Mikkael Sekeres. Dr. Bair explores how vision care can honor end-of-life goals and helps a patient with failing sight write to his children. TRANSCRIPT Narrator: The Quiet Work of Clarity, Henry, Bair, 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'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 to have joining us today Dr. Henry Bair, an ophthalmology resident physician at Wills Eye Hospital, to discuss his Journal of Clinical Oncology Art of Oncology article, "Quiet Work of Clarity". At the time of this recording, our guest has no disclosures. Dr. Bair and I have agreed to call each other by first names. Henry, thank you for contributing to the Journal of Clinical Oncology and for joining us to discuss your article. Henry Bair: Thank you very much for having me. Mikkael Sekeres: I love starting off by getting a little bit of background about our guests. I know a little bit about you, but I'm not sure all of our listeners do. Can you tell us about yourself and how you reached this stage of your training? Henry Bair: Sure thing. Happy to start there. I was born and raised in Taiwan. I came to the United States when I was 18 for college. I was at Rice University. I was drawn to it because the Texas Medical Center was right over there, but the university had a small liberal arts feel and the university did not box me into any specific discipline. I went there and we didn't have to declare anything and we could take any class from any school over there. And I actually fell in love with medieval studies of all things. I just came upon it in one of the survey courses and I went deeper and deeper and deeper and eventually wrote my thesis on medieval Irish manuscripts. That was really interesting. At the same time I was doing some clinical work and I realized that medicine might be a way to combine my interest in storytelling and the humanities with making a tangible difference in people's lives. Then I was in medical school at Stanford University, which was, in a similar way, I found a place that really let me explore what it meant to be a physician because the medical school let me take classes from all across the university: so the law school, the school of humanities, school of engineering, the business school. I got a chance to do a little bit of a lot of different things to try to figure out what I actually wanted to do with life. And I spent a lot of time actually doing a little bit of palliative care, a little bit of oncology, some medical education, some medical humanities. I had a lot of time thinking about, "Okay, what kind of specialty do I want to do?" I found myself really enjoying procedural specialties, but also really liking the kinds of patient interactions and conversations I had in palliative care and oncology, and eventually found ophthalmology, interestingly. I often have to remind myself or explain myself how those two connect. And to me, the way they connect is that ophthalmology lets me do very fascinating, intellectually challenging things in terms of working with my hands, very rewarding surgical procedural work. But at the same time, the conversations that I get to have with patients about seeing well, I saw so many parallels between that and living well. To me it was so much about quality of life. And that's how I knew that ophthalmology was the right move for me. And so now I'm an ophthalmology resident. Mikkael Sekeres: Fascinating. When I was an undergrad, the person who had the most influence on me was an English professor who was also a medievalist. There must be something about the personality and pouring over these old texts and trying to read things in Middle English that appeals to some character trait in those of us who eventually become physicians. I also remember when I was in medical school, we could also take classes throughout the university. So I wound up taking some writing classes with undergrads and with graduate students. It adds to this holistic education that we bring to medicine because it's not all about the science, is it? Henry Bair: Yeah, it's also different ways of thinking and seeing the world and just hearing people's different stories. It's the people I've met in a lot of those different settings outside of medical school that I think really enhanced my formative years in medical education. Mikkael Sekeres: You certainly bring it all together in this essay, which was just lovely. And I wonder if we could dive into some of the aspects of this essay. I'm dying to know, when you went to see this man, the main character of your essay, did you have any idea what the consult would be about? Henry Bair: No. So when we're in the hospital and as the ophthalmology resident on consult, we get notifications. These pop up whenever a primary team puts in a consult and it's usually fairly vague. It's usually no more than "blurry vision, please evaluate," "eye pain, please evaluate." As an ophthalmologist, getting a consult for blurry vision is kind of like a cardiologist getting consulted for chest pain. You're like, "Okay, but it could be something, it could be nothing, it could be something terrifying, it could be dry eyes, or it could be end-stage glaucoma, or it could be, who knows?" You really genuinely never know what you're getting yourself into until you actually go in there and talk to the patient, which can be frustrating, but also kind of an interesting experience. Mikkael Sekeres: I worry I'm guilty of submitting some of those consults to ophthalmology. Henry Bair: I didn't realize this fully until I started working on the ophthalmology side. I think non-ophthalmologists get so little exposure and training in ophthalmology. Of course, when I think about it, I didn't get any ophthalmology in medical school. So it's understandable. Mikkael Sekeres: In your essay, you write, and I'm going to quote you to you, "I am still learning what we can treat and what we can only tend. My training has taught me well how to assess visual acuity, intraocular pressures, and retinal nerve fiber layer thickness, but standing at his bedside, the index that mattered was none of these, but whether we could help him read for one more day." "What we can treat and what we can only tend." That's such a beautiful line. Is that something that only comes with years of experience, determining what we can treat and what we can only tend, or is it a dawning sense as we get to know our patients when we are trying to stop the inevitable from happening? Henry Bair: That is an interesting question because I think of it more almost as a fundamental shift in mindset. And I'm coming from someone who I think had the benefit of having had mentors, having had clinical experiences in palliative care in medical school. As I mentioned earlier, I was drawn to a lot of those patient conversations. So I think in some ways, starting in residency, I had long been primed to think about tending to a patient's concerns. And yet, even having been primed, even having the benefit of all those experiences and those conversations with amazing clinicians and with patients, maybe it's subject matter specific. I mean, ophthalmology tends to be a specialty, in my experience, my limited experience, ophthalmology tends to be one of those specialties that focuses so much on fixing things and treating things and reversing things. And in fact, that's one of the beautiful things of ophthalmology: how often you can reverse things or completely stop the progression of disease. And so I think in some ways, I am having to relearn what it means to see something not always as, "Okay, what's a problem here? What is the fix? How do I reverse this?" and go back and reach back to those experiences, those conversations I had with patients about trying to figure out, "Okay, the things that we can't fix, what can we still do?" To most people who have come across palliative care, this sentiment is by no means novel, the sentiment that there is always something we can do. You often hear about people talking about, "Oh, there's nothing more we can do." And I sort of try to bring that approach into the clinical encounters that I have. It's very reflexive to think that, "Okay, a person has lost vision from end-stage glaucoma or they have a blind painful eye. Well, there's nothing more we can do. You know, we've done all the conventional surgeries, we've done all the therapies, the medications," but I always have to pull myself back and say, "But there's always something we can do here." Mikkael Sekeres: It's so interesting how you frame that. We're problem solvers. We're trained to solve problems. A patient presents with X, a problem, we have to be clever enough to figure out how to solve it. I wonder if what you're saying indirectly is sometimes we're identifying the wrong problem. Henry Bair: I think so, yeah. Mikkael Sekeres: There may be a problem that we can't solve. Someone is actively dying from cancer. We can't solve the problem of curing them of their cancer. But there are other problems that we can potentially solve, and maybe that's where we have to be clever in identifying the problem. Henry Bair: I think so. And it's also what's in our textbooks and what's not. So we spend hundreds of hours in lecture and we pour over so many textbooks, and I do question banks now for board exams preparation. It's all on the textbook presentations, the textbook solutions. The proble

    30 min

About

The award-winning podcast JCO Cancer Stories: The Art of Oncology invites you on an intimate journey with heartfelt narratives, poignant reflections, and thoughtful dialogues. Hosted by Dr. Mikkael Sekeres, the podcast explores the hidden emotions, intense experiences, and resilient strength of clinicians, caregivers, and those living with cancer. This podcast is essential for nourishing the "art" behind the science of oncology.

More From ASCO Podcasts

You Might Also Like