Work Post

I rarely blog about my job, or go into much detail about it because people usually glaze over after I really start telling them what I do. As anyone who reads this blog knows, I work in a Cancer Center as a radiation oncology Social worker. People typically receive radiation everyday for 7 weeks, and I usually meet them during their first few days. I love hearing about their lives, how they spend their days, what hobbies they enjoy, what things they've accomplished, and how they're really handling their diagnosis. Many of them welcome me into their world, and keep me updated on how they're feeling, and the goings and comings of their life. Along with getting invited into their life, I often get to hear their biggest fears, or work through their biggest fears coming true with them. Each of my patients is living and walking with so much, and there are some days where patient after patient has a story that is sadder than the one before them. People have a hard time discussing and dealing with life and death. I say that people glaze over because the minute that I tell them that I am a Social Worker in a Cancer Center they look intrigued and want details. The minute I start describing what I do they just look blank for a moment. I think its becuase we all fear cancer and death, so my job requires that I deal with both of these things interchangeably, and all day long. My escape and breath of fresh air is talking to co-workers, or calling a friend for a few minutes to get my mind off an especially sad situation.

Today I had an especially sad situation. I have a 38 year old mother of 3 diagnosed with breast cancer. I thought her outcome sounded good and I try and see her at least once a week because I know that she is a mother, wife, employee, caregiver for her own mother, and has alot of emotional issues going on with her diagnosis. Today we were discussing her case and her doctor shared with me that her chances of seeing age 40 are slim to none. What ??? I was shocked. She has a 3 year old daughter, and two other school age children. I thought of all the implications of her death and I just felt so sad. Then a few minutes later she came in for treatment and seemed so happy because she had a great holiday, and at that moment I felt so heavy in my heart becuase I was holding something about her life that she wasn't aware of. She'll never know what the doctor told me, and she might defy the odds, but according to this doctor she has no shot at survival. She has a rare form of cancer and long story short, they have never seen someone survive 18 months passed the time of diagnosis with this type of cancer. I just kept thinking of her kids, and how they don't even know that they might all be on borrowed time together. I know that God will take care of them, but my sadness is probably a normal reaction to a difficult situation. My co-workers heard the statistic and just went on with their day, and I then reminded them that she has a 3 year old, plus two other children. One of my co-workers said "The show must go on." Geesh...hows that for compassion.

A day like today feels more emotionally challenging than others. I wouldn't trade what I do, but I wish that I could have more of an impact on people. I wish I knew of a technique they could do to increase their chances of survival. It is difficult at times to be the only Social Worker at the Center because there is no other co-worker to debfief with. Thankfully I recently got invited to be part of a larger network of Oncology Social Workers for bi-weekly meetings and support. I think this came at a good time for myself, as I can stay current on what is available to patients, and get the support that I need.