Palliative care and its lesson for me
Have you heard of the term “quality of life”?
Palliative care, being probably on the other end of the medical intervention spectrum compared to curative care, naturally emphasizes a lot on the concept of quality of life.
This entry is filed under Doctors and tagged desires, musings. There are 8 responses to this post.
Hmm, you may or may not have wanted to know that the proper definition of palliative care is “an approach that improves the quality of life of patients and their families facing problems associated with life-threatening illness through the prevention and relief of suffering by means of early identification and impeccable assessment and treatment of pain and other problems, physical, psychosocial and spiritual”.
(In other words, as I understand it, improving the quality of life in patients with untreatable terminal illnesses, as opposed to taking a curative approach.)
Question: What is quality of life to you? Have you ever spent some thought on what things make your life have quality?
It might not be pleasant to imagine ourselves being on the bed in a hospice, having not long to go before our lives end… but have you ever thought of the things that you would want most, if you were in that situation?
She has cancer, and she wants to be at her daughters’ wedding
“Joseph,” my friend said to me, one day two years ago in Christchurch. Back then, I was doing seventh form and hadn’t yet come to Dunedin to start my medical education.
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“When you become a doctor,” he continued, “make sure you find a cure for cancer.”
Not too likely I will, but I kept silent. Surely enough, the knowledge that one has cancer running in the family line is terribly daunting.
Barely can I remember what happened in between, but it is now nearing the end of 2004. Our third year med class has finally started the cancer module. This morning, we saw a patient with primary colon cancer that has metastasised to her liver and lungs. In other words, her cancer is already rather developed.
The patient talked about how devastating the news of her having cancer was, not only to her, but to her immediate and extended family as well. However, she accentuated, in an almost reprimanding manner, to never rub off hope. Never, she said. If only more adolescents can hear that! She mentioned that she is determined to be at her daughters’ wedding, whenever that will be. And she wants to see her grandchildren empty her bank account.
She has a strong Yorkshire accent, which made me feel like I was watching a Harry Potter movie whenever she talked. The issues she raised were real and serious, nonetheless.
One in four people die from cancer. One in three people get cancer. And absolutely everybody is affected by cancer. That includes you and me (yes, you, you and you).
I don’t think I will ever find a cure for cancer (…I know you knew that). But perhaps I can tell the people in need that there is something which conquers suffering and death. I hope they are willing to listen.
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oming to you
from a junior doctor who is color-blind, cleft-lipped and left-handed — this is where
I largely write about my
somewhat weird and wonderful encounters in Medicine. I wish,
though, more often than not,
that I could rather spend my days
drawing colorful pictures and bringing stories to life...... -
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