The Heart of an Oncology Office

A Familiar Office, A Different Experience

In the past few months, I lost two of my long-term physicians, one to retirement and the other upon the sale of the practice.

It was just a few weeks after I received a letter informing me that my ophthalmologist’s practice had been sold, when the date of my annual eye exam took place. It was last week. I returned to the same building, and opened the same door to the office where I had seen my eye doctor for the past twelve years. As I pulled into the parking lot, I noticed there was only one car in addition to mine. Something was clearly wrong. I met the new receptionist, A., who accessed a couple of computer files before letting me know that my appointment was at 8:30 a.m. Tuesday, not Monday. I was also able to ask her about the new doctor as well as the medical assistant. She spoke highly of both of the other healthcare workers; I was especially glad to hear that Medical Assistant D. was still there. I was very fond of her. As I exited the parking lot, my mind briefly revisited the years 2017-2019, and some amazing staff members in the St. Margaret’s Hospital Cancer Center.

Upon arriving on Tuesday at what had recently become Dr. P’s office, I was still rather anxious. My former eye doctor of about twelve years, Dr. R., had recently sold her business to Dr. P. She had seen me through a number of eye issues, of a variety of severities. However, my increased comfort level with Receptionist A., as a result of getting to know her twenty-four hours earlier, enabled my mind to return to the St. Margaret Hospital oncology office as I waited to be called into my appointment.

The First Face Patients See

I thought about how I had developed authentic relationships with office staff, medical assistants and nurses, as well as my medical oncologist, Dr. G. The first that came to mind was the kind, welcoming woman at the check-in desk, M. M. was the person who cancer patients first came in contact with when they entered the office. In every way, she was the perfect staff person to greet cancer patients, going a long way toward making their experiences as pleasant as possible. One day I praised and thanked M. and asked her how she managed such optimism; her response was, “If I don’t greet each patient who passes through that door with a cheerful face, shame on me.” Another day she shared with me her sorrow over losing two of her favorite patients (to their respective cancers) while she was away on vacation.

More Than a Medical Assistant

Also a part of the staff at Dr. G.’s oncology office was a middle-aged man named Dee. Dee was short for DeMonte, and he was a medical assistant. He was like M. in that he never fell short of being completely there for the patients of St. Margaret Cancer Center. I vividly remember arriving at the center the day of my first chemotherapy treatment. That day Medical Assistant D. called me into Dr. G.’s examining room and asked me the two questions I would hear repeatedly throughout cancer treatment: “Are you in pain?” and “Are you feeling fatigued?”

DeMonte worked hard at his job and, when not actively performing a task, was ready to help out in any way needed. But perhaps he was most loved as a bit of an entertainer; he was fun to be with and a bit of a jokester.

A Nurse Who Made a Difference

Dee left the examining room, and Dr. G., my oncologist, entered. Since that was my first day of chemotherapy treatment, we met only briefly. Then Dr. G. said to me, “Your nurse will explain what she’s giving you in detail; feel free to ask any questions. To meet your nurse, go out the door here and turn left.”

As I walked into the chemo infusion area, I thought about the small plaque I’d owned for many years. It read, “Courage is neither bought nor bestowed. It is born when common men and women meet life’s darkest moments with uncommon strength and hope.”

Although I was terrified, I had resolved myself to the fact that my most important task that day was to receive chemotherapy. Scientific research indicated that it was the most likely way, maybe the only way, for me to be cured of lung cancer. Amber most certainly did explain everything. I felt completely comfortable, and I asked her lots of questions.

Amber first flushed my port, which had been surgically placed in my upper left chest the previous week, then drew my blood to be tested to make sure my counts met the necessary criteria to receive Cisplatin chemotherapy. Nurse A. and another nurse crosschecked the numbers on the chemotherapy IV bags, making sure they matched my name and date of birth. Although Amber simply did her job as a skilled and sensitive nurse, she seemed like a saint to me that day.

Kindness Is Part of Cancer Care

Receptionist M., Medical Assistant D. and Nurse A. went above and beyond in providing much more than treatment to us, their cancer patients at St. Margaret Cancer Center. They are only three examples of what kindness and empathy can do to make a positive difference in a cancer center environment.In the past few months, I lost two of my long-term physicians, one to retirement and the other upon the sale of the practice.

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