When I look at my gravely ill patient, I don’t see an ‘illegal arrival’. I see a thoughtful woman cursed first by geography and then illness
Metastatic pancreatic cancer has a survival rate of less than 5% at five years and yet it seems like it’s the least of your problems. For many weeks now I have found this hard to understand and not only that, have been irritated when you have not shown up on time, held up a chemotherapy chair, or been late to your appointment. When you do make it in you are disengaged and even nonchalant, although never combative, which has led me to wonder if between the oncologist and the patient I am the one doing all the worrying.
Although your English is broken and our consultations time-consuming, between us we managed alright, I thought. For example, I know that the nausea bothers you, your pain arises in waves and your fatigue can be so consuming on days that you can’t lift your head off the pillow. But how is it that you don’t get the gravity of your situation? Are you a patient in denial or am I missing something? Nonplussed, I finally get an interpreter.
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