The Human Touch 2013 - University of Colorado Denver

Not so normal teenage life [Continued]
I asked the nurses and doctors where I could fi nd a straw. No one could
remember where they were. What a disaster, I thought to myself. This poor kid is
dying of cancer, all he wants is a straw, and I can’t fi nd it. Finally after combing the
7th level of Children’s hospital, I found a straw in a random cabinet. I rushed down
the halls and managed to make my way back to the sterile, white walled room. I
opened the door, and it was empty. They were all gone.
I found Dr. Lindsay back in the physician’s lounge, looking over Connor’s chart
as she updated her attending on his progress.
She smiled at me and stated, “I thought you might have gone home.”
I lifted the straw out of my short white coat and disappointingly said, “No way, I
wanted to fi nd Connor a straw.”
I explained to Dr. Lindsay that I couldn’t fi nd the straw anywhere and that
Connor seemed like he really needed it to drink his favorite red Gatorade. She
reassured me that Connor and his brother probably went to the cafeteria for a
straw and that I shouldn’t worry.
I just couldn’t help but feel sad that I didn’t get to say goodbye. It’s not like
saying goodbye to people is normally a big deal, unless they are dying of cancer. I
left that afternoon at Children’s Hospital heavy hearted. I had just encountered an
intelligent, funny and well-spoken little boy that would surely die of cancer within
the next few months, if not weeks. Dr. Lindsay explained to me that if Connor
couldn’t keep solid food down, the likelihood was that the cancer had invaded his
GI tract and was quickly spreading to the rest of his body. His care was purely
palliative. Everyone in his life knew he was going to die.
Walking to the garage, I took off my short white coat, straw still rolling around
my big fl oppy pocket, and I begrudgingly got into my car. It just didn’t seem right
that Connor, a cute little teenage boy, who seemed so full of life, would die shortly
because of this devastating disease. To me this was a learning experience during
my fi rst year of medical school. To Connor, this was one of the last days of his not
so normal teenage life.
Sunscreen [Marc Ringel, MD]
PG 110
PG 111