This interview has been edited for length and clarity. Everyday Health: You write about the frustration of having to wait for biopsy results over a long weekend. Theresa Brown: I hated that it was a nurse who told me I’d have to wait four days to find out if I had cancer — even though my results were already on the radiologist’s desk. When I asked if I could call the radiologist directly, the nurse told me she was leaving for the day so I wouldn’t be able to get my results. I just don’t understand why you would ever talk to a patient that way. I don’t understand why this would ever be okay. EH: It’s all too easy to worry that you’re being difficult, isn’t it, when you face a cancer diagnosis? TB: On the one hand, you want to make sure that your care can proceed the way it’s supposed to. You want that to happen, but the cost often is a sacrifice to your autonomy. The reality is that sometimes people think they’ll be labeled difficult if they advocate and demand things for themselves. I knew all of that, but I didn’t have a choice. If I didn’t stick up for myself, certain things weren’t going to happen. TB: I wanted someone to sit down with me, look me in the eye, and explain things. I only got that from the radiation oncology department. They showed compassion by doing simple things, and they didn’t do it because they were told to be caring. They were unfailingly polite, very clear about what I should expect, and made me feel like a human being, not a number on the page. EH: So what needs to change? TB: When it comes to cancer, we need to stop using certain phrases, like why do we always equate treating cancer with fighting a war? We should just be straight with people. Let’s use statements like “I know this is hard. We are in this together. I am here for you. I care.” EH: Do you think the COVID-19 pandemic will lead to real change in healthcare? TB: I’m hoping for a COVID reset. Our healthcare system has taken a huge hit — a lot of nurses have quit — and people in most of the healthcare fields are burned out and struggling. This is a great opportunity for us to think about how do we get care to everyone and how do we make healthcare more caring. It has to start at the top. I often wonder what would happen if U.S. News & World Report rated the nation’s best hospitals by how they provided compassionate care to their patients. That would be interesting to see! EH: How would you describe your healing process? TB: Healing takes time. I healed in a number of ways: returning to clinical work, going on a bike trip with my family, spending time with friends, working out, and being comforted by my dog. Healing is complicated and unfolds. It isn’t linear, and each of us will heal our own way in our own time, but we have to be open to that idea for it to happen. EH: How is your health today? TB: I will have my five-year mammogram at the end of September, and that is a key milestone. Soon I won’t need to regularly check in with my physicians. I also don’t need to take any hormone-suppressing agents. I couldn’t tolerate the side effects. I feel somewhat ambivalent about this choice, but I’m in good company. We need better drugs. EH: What do you hope readers take away from reading Healing? TB: I hope people understand that being sick is hard and that they matter as patients. Being seen and heard matter. As I show in Healing, compassion influences how well people heal and how they feel about their treatment. Due to unchecked capitalism in our healthcare system, patients often feel cured of the problem but in some ways worse off then they were, either because of side effects from their treatment or because they were treated so inhumanly. Care can be competent, high tech, and human, as the example of my radiation oncology center shows. We all need to insist on compassion and not feel that settling for less is the necessary price of cutting-edge care. Compassion can be cutting-edge, too. Note: The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and not Everyday Health.
