What I Wish My Oncologist Said the Day of My Diagnosis

August 1, 2024
Mark Sisk

I wish my doctor was more upfront — sharing both the realities and the glimmers of hope — the day I was diagnosed with brain cancer.

Looking back, I wish at the time of my cancer diagnosis the doctors had said to me plainly:

“Mark, your biopsy shows a grade 4 astrocytoma, a type of brain cancer called glioblastoma mulitforme or GBM, which is a malignant disease with no known cause or cure. This is what we initially suspected from the tumor discovered on your scan, and thus our urgency pressing for immediate resection by craniotomy

“Statistically, the mean life expectancy for those with GBM is not long; less than 6% survive five years, according to the American Brain Tumor Association. Notwithstanding, like many other forms of cancer, the standard treatment consists of an aggressive combination of radiation and chemotherapy. For some patients, the treatments prove to be more difficult and debilitating than the underlying disease and, if you live long enough, you will probably face quality vs. quantity-of-life decisions regarding further treatment.

“However, you should bear in mind that medical practitioners have a propensity toward despair and tend to dwell on the most negative outcomes. Nevertheless, there is a real anatomy of hope that is often activated by faith through the power of prayer.

“Mark, like every other person on this planet, you are under a death sentence — though you now will be much more acutely aware of this than most. That realization should produce within you a profound sense of gratitude for every breath of life. Keeping your thoughts centered on thanksgiving is not only a superior way to live, but also promotes a positive outlook that contributes to the healing process. To paraphrase author Lynn Eib: The best thing about living with an incurable illness is … living!

“Cancer is a disease but it does not define you. Although every cancer journey is unique, do not go it alone. Share the heavy load and unexpected joys with others along the way. A wise medical provider at the hospital told me: ‘a burden shared is a burden divided; a blessing shared is a blessing multiplied.’”

To my neurosurgeon’s credit, he did tell me upfront that the journey I was starting was a marathon and not a sprint. Unfortunately, I had never run a marathon so the wisdom of his words did not internalize until much later. He also rightly encouraged me to live each day to the fullest.

A favorite Bible verse of mine is, “Teach us to number our days O Lord, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.” After several years on this journey, I am finally living into that. I have ascertained that doctors do not know and cannot accurately predict how long I will live. Only God knows and ordains that.

Additionally, a roadmap with key milestones typically encountered along the cancer journey would have been quite helpful. Yet even that would only have gone so far, because only by living through it can one really gain insight and understanding. Furthermore, because my brain had suffered traumatic injury, my ability to comprehend upfront was certainly diminished.

Everything is always clearer looking back instead of ahead. One just beginning the cancer journey should certainly get all the facts, but also acknowledge there is a much greater unknown. Then pray and ask others for prayer. Dig deep to find your faith to reject the fatalistic narratives. Embrace and cultivate hope,and give thanks in all things.

I am eternally grateful for the quality of care I have received and thank God for each person He brought to my aid. I truly appreciate every seemingly small act of kindness shown to me and my family. They were like a kiss from Father above.

This post was written and submitted Mark Sisk. The article reflects the views of Sisk and not of CURE®. This is also not supposed to be intended as medical advice.

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