Why I Write

My father-in-law once told me that many people can write, but the real challenge is knowing why. I write to make cancer easier to understand.

You found your way here because you heard the word "cancer." It is a scary word. It means that some cell in the body has gone rogue and won't stop dividing. However, the rest of the story is exceedingly complex. I am an oncologist -- a doctor who studies cancer and selects appropriate treatment plans to kill cancer cells. I suppose that to explain why I started writing, I need to go into why I chose this profession. I mean, think about it -- what sane person would want to take a front row seat to the worst day of people's lives? Truth be told, this profession chose me. I am sensitive, caring, determined, and have a surprisingly broad capacity to love. Beyond that, I do not come from a family of doctors, but public relations professionals. I'm not the smartest or the wisest oncologist, but I was raised by a man who has a master's degree in "crisis communications" and I think a bit of that rubbed off.

I mean, think about it -- what sane person would want to take a front row seat to the worst day of people's lives?

Going through college and medical school, I was not the one that had the photographic memory. I had to piece things together in my mind and understand the mechanisms behind the processes in order to not only learn it, but appreciate it. I know that this stuff gets really complicated and I by no means have it committed to memory all the time, but I find it fascinating. However, my favorite part is explaining it to others. I don't remember the first analogy I came up with, but I remember the first time one of my patients raised his exhausted, frustrated, eyes from the floor and said, "Wow, I finally get it. No one has explained it like that before."

I'm not the smartest or the wisest oncologist, but I was raised by a man who has a master's degree in "crisis communications" and I think a bit of that rubbed off.

I have since come up with a bunch of metaphors and similes for recurring principles within the vast, dark forest of information that is cancer. Some of them have made sense and I use them often, though others...well, those were awkward moments (and you won't find those failed metaphors here). I thought that if I can help explain this stuff to the patients I'm lucky enough to meet, perhaps I can write these down, and who knows? Maybe someone out there in the sea of digital information will find some sort of flotation device so they don't feel like they're drowning.

That's why I write. Thank you for reading.