A Letter From the
American Doctor
Dear
Ilya,
Nothing in my career in
medicine has prepared me for being a friend to someone with such a
terrible disease. As a doctor I dispense advice
on a daily basis, but those interactions remain strangely
impersonal. With you, cancer has invaded our
inner circle, and we all share your shock and
despair.
No one can know exactly
what it feels like to be facing serious cancer, unless they have
been through it themselves. Your doctors will not
know, the rest of your family will not know, neither will your
friends. So please forgive us if we do not
understand or get things wrong. It is as much a
learning process for us as it is for you.
But there is a vast
resource out there of people fighting the same disease who do know
what you are going through now and will have to battle in the
future, and I suggest you get in touch with them. The cancer
research center of the Russian National Academy of Medical Sciences
is a good starting point. You will find a wealth
of knowledge here that most of your doctors will not have at their
fingertips. The contributors do so voluntarily,
are available all the time, know all the latest advances in
treatment, and will not fob you off when you ask difficult or
“silly” questions. These folk can become friends
together in crisis in a way that we cannot be.
Use them. I know they will welcome you with open
arms. Of course, Once you've decided to take treatment in the U.S.
we will welcome you as always!
Get to know your disease
from reputable sources. Being forewarned is being
forearmed. You can react to new situations
earlier, giving your doctors better chance of helping you through
crises.
You probably have already
looked at the survival statistics of your cancer.
I agree they are frightening. But figures alone
do not tell the whole story. No one knows exactly
what is going to happen with you. Don’t let the
figures get you down. Take one day at a time
while you fight this disease, be grateful for each completed day,
look forward to the next one. Remain
positive. Your state of mind alone can make the
difference in being in the percentage of people who
survive.
If I had your diagnosis,
this is what I would do.
I
would organize my life while I am still fit, making sure my will
and business dealings are all sorted out so that I do not need to
worry about difficult decisions while I am
unwell.
I
would keep a journal, noting my fears, angers, insecurities,
tribulations and triumphs. I would record my
goals here, and celebrate each one as it is
reached. I would go back to the earlier records
regularly and see how far I have come, and how my responses to the
disease have changed.
I
would do the things I have always wanted to do while I am
able. Skydive, bungy jump, go on a
cruise. Start writing a book.
Stop putting off doing things that seemed too
selfish. Live my life a bit more, but involve my
family so that we create memories together. I
would make my life the best that I could with whatever time I have
left.
I
would answer to the best of my ability any questions I have about
life, death and spirituality, seeking help and advice where I need
it.
And then I would get on
with my life, living it as normally as I
could.
Dear Ilya, cancer does not
define you. You are not your disease. You've done
so much effort, you are very good. It may take its toll, but there
is no shame in it, no reason to hide. I was touched by your
strength of character!
I
do know this. Many people fighting serious
disease live more complete and meaningful lives with the time they
have left than people who live to old age. They leave a legacy
behind that we all should learn from and try to
copy. I know you will do the
same.
With
love,
Taylor