Guest Post by Jim Jackson
On Friday afternoon I had a checkup appointment with Dr. Edward Chang, an oncologist and hematologist. I was seeing him for the latter purpose—not for cancer treatment.
Since my first appointment with my new PC physician and her concern with a slightly low reading in my platelet count, I’ve seen Dr. Chang on four separate occasions now, each time with a three-month extension from my recheck. Next time is a year from now.
He showed me his computer screen with my current blood-lab readings: a single little red line—all else normal green. He said my panel was “boring.” No problems!
This platelet reading has nothing to do with cancer and only a very slight “chance” of low output of my bone marrow. It’s at the very high mark of the low to normal junction and by just a few points. There has been no change since my first test. So, I am not a cancer patient.
Dr. Chang was an hour late in seeing me. He and two of his assistants apologized several times. I told him it was actually a “benefit” for me.
If one ever wants a “humbling experience,” go sit in the reception room of an oncologist for an hour and observe all the dear Souls who come in and go out. The closest I’ve ever been somewhere near this situation was in the VA Hospital waiting room—but not really close.
Dr. Chang told me it had been a sad day on Thursday when two of his patients of fifteen years had died, both on the same day. He said it was sad, but to keep going in his profession, he had to “let them go” and focus on the bright side. He had been able to help keep them comfortable and WITH THEIR FAMILIES for fifteen more years. Quite an extraordinary amount of time, I’d say.
I told him that actually I appreciated the “education” I received in his reception room. I did not relate to my time there as “waiting,” but as an opportunity to experience and learn som HUMILITY and APPRECIATION for my own health without having to go through all the suffering.
There I was—“OLD”—(he said near his 30,000 day life marker,) but other than a few tennis injuries, he said from pounding the courts for 6 1/2 decades, speeding up my body wear and tear and limiting my motion and speed, I was in good physical condition.
I feel money is not a big factor in Dr. Chang’s professional life—he takes us Medicare patients and I see how much they pay (near nothing.) I’ll bet all he gets from my appointment is my $30 co-pay. Not much for the high value 30-45 minutes he spends with me.
I really took notice of his sincerity when he pushed the large computer screen aside and scooted his stool directly in front of me. He leaned in towards me and spoke in a low tone as if someone might overhear him.
He said something like: “It’s difficult to lose someone you’ve worked with so hard to keep alive. But when it’s their time, I have to let them go and think of the positive that has happened.
“I’ve had nearly every family member tell me that after their loved one “knew” and “accepted” their diagnosis of having cancer and their possible “sooner than expected” death from it, they become a CHANGED PERSON. Most changed from cranky and irritable people to more mellow, nicer people. They began to take much more interest in the family members and friends rather than focusing on their woes and self.
“The became more loving and caring and tried their best to show that through their last day. Most of the families say they will remember their loved ones as the way they lived and treated life in their last months, not so much as the previous years.”
Dr. Chang told me, “You’ve nothing to worry about. But let’s have you back in a year. We’ll spend five minutes looking at your lab results and then ten more ‘talking more philosophy.’”
I liked that “prescription!”
I do admire Dr. Chang. I believe he is a super “co-worker with Divine Spirit” in this world. I wonder if he knows how much his loving care, kindness, and compassion has helped change all those hundreds of lives so greatly in their last months and years? His success is measured in love and service. He truly demonstrates love in action.
“Life is not a matter of holding good cards,
but of playing a poor hand well.”
—Robert Louis Stevenson
____________________
Jim Jackson enjoys reading, writing, and sharing his experiences with those in his community and friends. He still has an interest in tennis, he says.
Leave a Reply