The Last Lecture

The Last Lecture
57
A Way to Understand Optimism
A FTER I learned I had cancer, one of my doctors gave me some
advice. “It’s important,” he said, “to behave as if you’re going to be
around awhile.”
I was already way ahead of him.
“Doc, I just bought a new convertible and got a vasectomy. What
more do you want from me?”
Look, I’m not in denial about my situation. I am maintaining my
clear-eyed sense of the inevitable. I’m living like I’m dying. But at the
same time, I’m very much living like I’m still living.
Some oncologists’ offices will schedule appointments for patients
six months out. For the patients, it’s an optimistic signal that the
doctors expect them to live. There are terminally ill people who look at
the doctor’s appointment cards on their bulletin boards and say to
themselves, “I’m going to make it to that. And when I get there, I’m
going to get good news.”
Herbert Zeh, my surgeon in Pittsburgh, says he worries about
patients who are inappropriately optimistic or ill-informed. At the same
time, he is upset when patients are told by friends and acquaintances that
they have to be optimistic or their treatments won’t work. It pains him to
[198]