22 min

Etch a Sketch: A Young Patient’s Art Provides Imaginative Scaffolding Cancer Stories: The Art of Oncology

    • Science

Listen to ASCO’s Journal of Clinical Oncology poem, “Etch a Sketch” by Dr. Wendy Tong, an Internal Medicine Resident at McGaw Medical Center of Northwestern University. The poem is followed by an interview with Tong and host Dr. Lidia Schapira. Tong shares her thought process behind her fictional poem, where a mother and daughter receive bad news of a leukemia diagnoses.
TRANSCRIPT
Narrator: Etch a Sketch, by Wendy Tong, MD 
You are only seventeen when you first learn its meaning.
Just moments before, you sit in a white-walled room
with your mother by your side. You have been losing weight.
You have been feeling dizzy; you have been bedbound with colds.
You have been waking up with the taste of blood,
finding dried crimson on your pillow
and tiny red freckles smattering your skin. 
In the middle of the waiting your mind drifts back
to when you were younger, when the thing you liked best
to play with was an etch a sketch. You would maneuver the knobs
to draw lineographic pictures with an invisible stylus—a whole world of possibility pixelated into a gray two-dimensional screen.
If you made a mistake, no matter. The image would blur
with a few simple shakes; if no one saw it, did it ever really exist? 
When the doctor returns, you try to brace yourself but find
your defenses dissolving as he delivers the message. This is the moment you learn the meaning of tragedy. It is a fortune-telling, it is a sentence.
Your mother’s face pales. You simply stare at the hands in your lap—
hands that have just learned to love. Hands that have fumbled to make art; hands that could not help but hold onto hope. A whole world of possibility suddenly goes dark. If only this screen could be shaken, this gritty image erased.
As you watch your mother’s tears fall, you retreat to a safer place
inward, where you are free to sketch the image of the two of you
at the kitchen table just that morning, before things changed. 
In a single movement you pencil in the harsh slant
of your own angled cheekbone. In another, you etch worry lines
into your mother’s forehead for age to deepen.
This is not the future that she dreamed for you.
But there are things you cannot capture with two-dimensional strokes.
What of the way the sun had hit the glass saltshaker, or the slowing of light. The way refraction had scattered rainbow flecks across your mother’s cheeks like celestial confetti, the grace of an unseen angel.
The way the coffee was still warm against your lips. These are the things, you realize now, that will sustain you. You reach for her hand and she grasps back, tightly.
Dr. Lidia Schapira: Hello, and welcome to JCO's Cancer stories: The Art of Oncology, which features essays and personal reflections from authors exploring their experience in the field of oncology. I'm your host, Dr. Lidia Schapira, Professor of Medicine at Stanford University. Today we're joined by Dr. Wendy Tong, an Internal Medicine Resident at McGaw Medical Center of Northwestern University. In this episode, we will be discussing her Art of Oncology poem "Etch-A-Sketch." 
At the time of this recording, our guest has no disclosures. 
Wendy, welcome to our podcast, and thank you for joining us.
Dr. Wendy Tong: Thanks so much for having me today.
Dr. Lidia Schapira: So let's start by talking a little bit about your writing, you are going through your medical training, tell us what writing does for you.
Dr. Wendy Tong: I first started getting into writing poetry, or writing in general, about halfway through medical school. I was always inspired to write after a specific patient encounter, sort of as a way to capture something human that I had noticed about them - a specific detail, mannerism, or attitude - something that I wanted to appreciate and remember. When I started, poetry was a good way to capture those little glimpses separate from writing more narrative essays where  you are able to get in more of the medical details, history, and t

Listen to ASCO’s Journal of Clinical Oncology poem, “Etch a Sketch” by Dr. Wendy Tong, an Internal Medicine Resident at McGaw Medical Center of Northwestern University. The poem is followed by an interview with Tong and host Dr. Lidia Schapira. Tong shares her thought process behind her fictional poem, where a mother and daughter receive bad news of a leukemia diagnoses.
TRANSCRIPT
Narrator: Etch a Sketch, by Wendy Tong, MD 
You are only seventeen when you first learn its meaning.
Just moments before, you sit in a white-walled room
with your mother by your side. You have been losing weight.
You have been feeling dizzy; you have been bedbound with colds.
You have been waking up with the taste of blood,
finding dried crimson on your pillow
and tiny red freckles smattering your skin. 
In the middle of the waiting your mind drifts back
to when you were younger, when the thing you liked best
to play with was an etch a sketch. You would maneuver the knobs
to draw lineographic pictures with an invisible stylus—a whole world of possibility pixelated into a gray two-dimensional screen.
If you made a mistake, no matter. The image would blur
with a few simple shakes; if no one saw it, did it ever really exist? 
When the doctor returns, you try to brace yourself but find
your defenses dissolving as he delivers the message. This is the moment you learn the meaning of tragedy. It is a fortune-telling, it is a sentence.
Your mother’s face pales. You simply stare at the hands in your lap—
hands that have just learned to love. Hands that have fumbled to make art; hands that could not help but hold onto hope. A whole world of possibility suddenly goes dark. If only this screen could be shaken, this gritty image erased.
As you watch your mother’s tears fall, you retreat to a safer place
inward, where you are free to sketch the image of the two of you
at the kitchen table just that morning, before things changed. 
In a single movement you pencil in the harsh slant
of your own angled cheekbone. In another, you etch worry lines
into your mother’s forehead for age to deepen.
This is not the future that she dreamed for you.
But there are things you cannot capture with two-dimensional strokes.
What of the way the sun had hit the glass saltshaker, or the slowing of light. The way refraction had scattered rainbow flecks across your mother’s cheeks like celestial confetti, the grace of an unseen angel.
The way the coffee was still warm against your lips. These are the things, you realize now, that will sustain you. You reach for her hand and she grasps back, tightly.
Dr. Lidia Schapira: Hello, and welcome to JCO's Cancer stories: The Art of Oncology, which features essays and personal reflections from authors exploring their experience in the field of oncology. I'm your host, Dr. Lidia Schapira, Professor of Medicine at Stanford University. Today we're joined by Dr. Wendy Tong, an Internal Medicine Resident at McGaw Medical Center of Northwestern University. In this episode, we will be discussing her Art of Oncology poem "Etch-A-Sketch." 
At the time of this recording, our guest has no disclosures. 
Wendy, welcome to our podcast, and thank you for joining us.
Dr. Wendy Tong: Thanks so much for having me today.
Dr. Lidia Schapira: So let's start by talking a little bit about your writing, you are going through your medical training, tell us what writing does for you.
Dr. Wendy Tong: I first started getting into writing poetry, or writing in general, about halfway through medical school. I was always inspired to write after a specific patient encounter, sort of as a way to capture something human that I had noticed about them - a specific detail, mannerism, or attitude - something that I wanted to appreciate and remember. When I started, poetry was a good way to capture those little glimpses separate from writing more narrative essays where  you are able to get in more of the medical details, history, and t

22 min

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