Years
ago, I saw a movie with the simple title "The
Doctor." The film featured William Hurt as a
successful medical doctor who had it all, at least
until he had to face cancer that affected him
personally. Predictably, the experience changed his
outlook on his patients once he returned to his
medical practice.
Year
before last, I had to go through the fight against
malignant hemangiosarcoma with my own dog,
"Princess." The toughest thing I had to do
was tell my family about this 13-year family member
and what the diagnosis meant. As a veterinarian, this
experience really challenged me because I was
constantly updating family, not pet-owning clients on
what was going on with "Princess's" body as
the cancer progressed. And no, burying her after we
had to say good-bye was not easy either.
Fast-forward
to today. Now my 14-year-old cat is wearing down from
what my "cat women" in the practice group
deem intestinal lymphoma. "Prince" has
always been a character, full of cat idiosyncrasies
that add spice to our household. The only problem is
he's slowly wasting away before my eyes.
"Prince's"
twice-a-day prednisone doses (corticosteroids) keep
him eating, drinking, and his stool acceptable most of
the time, albeit artificially. The trade-off here is
that we'd rather keep him alive with these means than
say good-bye in an abrupt fashion.
Prior
to last year, it had been a while since I had dealt
with any significant medical problems with my personal
pets. Now I've dealt with two pet cancer cases in my
family within two years. These experiences bring it
all home to me about how it all feels to my clients to
hear this type of news, and helps me empathize with
veterinary clients who must deal with similar news.
Back to
the parallel with that movie I mentioned: As a
veterinarian, I am reminded that we must show empathy
and patience when families have many questions about
treatment options, plans and possible outcomes. In the
case of family, there's even an extra emotional
dimension to deal with. All I can say is, right or
wrong, I'm dealing.
Veterinarians
by and large are quite good at what they do,
considering the range of subjects they must handle
over the course of the day. However, the subject of
communication to pet owners about serious things such
as cancer demands a special, personalized touch. It
requires sensitivity. It requires diligence. And, as I
was reminded, it's a different matter when it's your
own family dog.
By the
way, a Collie named "Jesse" is now filling
the pawprints of "Princess." The neat thing
is that outside my immediate family, he has honorary
"godmothers" named Sarah and Mary, who led
"Jesse" to me. What a rich life!
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Dr.
Chris Duke is a veterinarian at Bienville Animal
Medical Center in Ocean Springs, Miss. Questions for
this column are encouraged. Write to South Mississippi
Veterinary Medical Association, 20005 Pineville Road,
Long Beach MS 39560 and include a self-addressed
stamped envelope.
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