A Sense of Belonging
March 25, 2013
By: Jeb Ong
As a McGill University Medicine graduate, I have been trained to practice holistic medicine – that is, to attend to a patient’s medical as well as psychological needs in the treatment of his/her disease. As much as I would love to claim that I succeed in doing so with each of my patients, the honest truth is that, with the amount of tasks that I constantly have to juggle on a daily basis and the little time I am given to execute them, I am inadequate at responding to a patient’s psychological and emotional needs. The desire to treat a patient holistically is certainly there, but time simply is not.
In July 2012, as I began my first year of medical residency on the hematology-oncology ward, I, myself, was given the unfortunate diagnosis of Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. Quite the role reversal if there ever was one – the peripeteia in all Greek tragedies. And thus, I went from treating patients to being a patient in need of treatment. I went from attending to patients’ needs at the bedside to sitting side by side with those same patients as I received chemotherapy throughout the following months. Despite knowing the medical facts, I remember feeling lost, alone, and afraid. How could this happen to me? At 26 years of age, when one normally feels ready to take on the world, invincible almost. My only consolation was that Hodgkin’s Lymphoma is known for its excellent prognosis, but what was chemotherapy going to be like? I was fortunate enough not to have seen any of those close to me suffer from cancer, but this also meant that I had no idea what to expect.
Needless to say, chemotherapy takes its toll on the human body. But the medical team did an excellent job dealing with that aspect of treatment, as I had expected. However, as I cycled through episodes of appetite loss, nausea, fatigue, headaches, and constant malaise, I felt my spirit breaking down. I had embarked on this undesirable journey with as much optimism as I could muster, and with the amount of loved ones who stepped up to the plate, it seemed doable. But I began to worry about my mental health. During the first week after each treatment (total of 8), my mind would feel sluggish and tired. I wouldn’t feel like “myself”. I would feel detached from my own life, apathetic. By the second week, I would gradually feel “normal” again. But with time, that week of apathy lengthened, to the point where I felt I was losing myself. I would rush to “rediscover” my own personality during the second weeks. This terrified me. How would this affect my future career as a doctor? How would this affect my personal life? My relationships?
It was at this point that I finally got involved with CancerFightClub Montreal. Hope & Cope was offering an 8-session course on dealing with “cancer-related brain fog”. The teachings focused on techniques to improve memory, task management skills and psychological wellbeing, all made relevant with practical, real-life examples. Through this course, I also met other patients who were suffering from similar symptoms. This promoted a sense of unity amongst us, which consequently lead to a feeling of empowerment.
Further encouraging this feeling of belonging, CancerFightClub also organized a winter retreat to Quebec with the promotion of self-care as its main objective. The weekend was replete with insightful talks and relevant workshops. From communication skills, life balance, and art therapy, to physical activities such as skating and snowshoeing, there was no shortage of workshops to satisfy the individual needs of each patient. Each and every counselor was very helpful, empathetic and knowledgeable in their respective domains. I was especially impressed with Hélène Deutsch who led eye-opening workshops that truly encouraged me to dig deep and understand my own emotions toward my illness. At the end of the weekend, patients formed a circle and as a candle was passed around, each expressed his/her state of mind following the retreat. Words such as hope, love, happy, friend, insight, and acceptance were pronounced, to name only a few.
At the end of my treatments, I had lost a significant amount of muscle mass. Fortunately, the JGH Hope & Cope Wellness Centre is equipped with a gym and employs qualified physiotherapists and exercise physiologists. They helped me get back on track, showing me various exercises to improve my cardiovascular as well as muscular health.
In short, I benefitted from excellent medical treatment at the Jewish General Hospital, ensuring my remission from Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. However, less obvious to outsiders, I sincerely believe that, without the help of CancerFightClub and its numerous initiatives, my psychological and mental health would not have recovered as smoothly as I feel it did. Even as a medical resident, with, seemingly, all the necessary resources to maneuver past such an obstacle, I initially felt lost, alone and powerless. I cannot begin to fathom how helpless and terrified an 18-year-old newly diagnosed with brain cancer must feel.
