An Open Letter To My Hero

Dear Dr. Ginder:

10 years ago today, you told me that I could travel home for Thanksgiving.  I didn't need more radiation.  We could consider my cancer in remission.

In some ways, that day feels very long ago.  In others it feels like just yesterday.

You are someone I never really wanted to meet.  I have never liked needles, or hospitals, or the smell of saline.  Or, frankly, doctors.  But from the moment I walked into your office, I could tell you were different.  You have always listened to my concerns - even if they were ones I found in the far reaches of the Internet that really had no valid medical basis.  You let me throw my temper tantrum when Kevin told me that I needed an extra round of chemotherapy and I.just.didnt.want.it.  You always took my calls - for big things ("the Neupogen is making my bones hurt so badly I cant stand it") and small ones ("is it normal that broccoli makes my tongue hurt now?").  You never once made me feel like your time was more important than me, or that you were more important than me.  And even now, 10 years later, you still never do.

Cancer changed me.  When you met me I only wore flats and I had yet to discover the real fabulousness behind the color pink.  I was so shy I could hardly make eye contact with someone I didnt know well, nevermind talk to them.  I hated my job and thought that maybe law school was something I might be able to do one day.  I was a passive actor in my own life. 

(I think you know thats not true anymore!)   

And having you as my physician, and having the special privilege of knowing you as a researcher, has changed me.  You have taught me how to be compassionate, how to work tirelessly for something you believe in, and how sometimes you have to do the right thing even when you dont like everything that goes along with it (I will always remember how badly you felt after that broccoli incident).  You've taught me that giving someone your time when they need to talk can be the greatest gift ever - even if it throws your plans for the day totally off.  And that none of us is more important than anyone else.  We all have a duty to care for each other - and you do that for your patients and for the researchers who work alongside you with strength, grace, and wisdom.   

There is nothing I could say to adequately thank you for saving my life.  But I hope I use the days you have given me in a way that will make you proud. 

Love,
Kaity

Photo Credit: Doug Buerlein