The Tumors of our Lives

I hate the word tumor. We try to make it sound innocuous in medicine, as if it implies only a growth and nothing more serious. We all know we’re kidding ourselves to think otherwise, both patients and doctors. Yes, occasionally it’s a benign growth that can easily be taken out, but usually not. Tumors are the least favorite aspect of my life as a GP. I hate thinking about them, in respect to cancer, I hate potentially missing one in a patient, and I certainly hate when I get an urgent fax from the local radiologist showing they’ve found one on a routine scan. Such was my fate on Friday afternoon. Then, the inevitable question comes, when do I tell the patient? Jason and I have had several discussions about “the Friday afternoon diagnosis”. He comes from the perspective of a son whose father had cancer, and I come from the perspective of someone who has to deliver the news. Yet, we always come to the same conclusion that it’s better to know sooner then later and allow the information to digest. Unfortunately, no matter when you deliver the news, it never takes away that nauseous feeling, for both doctor and patient, of dropping a time bomb on someone’s life.