How Palliative Care Transformed My Perspective of Medicine

As with most parents, my father had high hopes for me, and he wished for me to become a doctor in America. At age 13 I was able to move to the United States with my mother and sister, but at the cost of leaving my dad behind in Vietnam due to immigration complications. During my first year of college my dad passed away and his aspirations for me became my own as I was filled with a deep-seated desire to prevent others from suffering the same loss. Most people talk about doctors saving lives, but perhaps it can also be looked at as defying death. This kind of control appealed to me as I pursued a career in medicine, but I discovered a more complex and subtle approach of being a doctor in my exposure to Palliative Care.

In joining the many medical school hopefuls in medical volunteering and internship programs, I explored multiple fields of medicine and was able to take part in patient–doctor interactions. Initially it all made sense to me—surgeons operate to repair damaged organs; pathologists analyze diseased tissue to determine methods of treatment; radiologists utilize modern techniques to help with patient diagnosis—doctors prolong peoples lives through diagnosis and treatment, making it a venerable profession. After I met Dr. Parag Bharadwaj, then the associate director of the Palliative Care Program at the Cedars-Sinai Medical Center, my perception of being a doctor was challenged.

In a discussion with our internship group he explained that for patients who are nearing the end of their life, a doctor must weigh the benefit that a treatment may provide versus the potential burden it may inflict on the patient. Dr. B (our internship group's affectionate moniker for him) emphasized that we must focus on quality of life during disease treatments and end-of-life care. Part of me rejected this idea, shocked that a field of medicine embraces the fact that for some patients there are no life-saving options. Yet another part of me wondered if my family and I could have been better prepared for my father's death had palliative and hospice care been available to us.

Curious to learn more, I followed Dr. B on his rounds with his patients. I have met many of Dr. B's patients who are at various stages of their diseases. Most are scared, frustrated, and grieving at the prospect of death. During consultations, he cared for not only the physical comfort but also the emotional well-being of the patients. Perhaps the biggest revelation about palliative care for me was that Dr. B's care does not stop with just his patients—he must extend his concern to the family and friends of his patients as well.

On one afternoon, Dr. B and I were having a conversation when the wife of one of his patient's walked by and greeted him. After telling Dr. B of her husband's current state of health, tears rolled down her cheeks. She turned to me and expressed how thankful she was that there was a doctor whose expertise she could trust to take care of her husband in the final stage of his life. It was then that it dawned on me that doctors do indeed heal and save people but it does not always result in prevention of death. By working with patients and their families to uphold quality of life, palliative care doctors give them a chance to face death with internal peace.

When I began pursuing a career in medicine, I was driven by the fear of helplessness. Surly with the right treatment and discoveries, people can be cured and saved. But since my time with Dr. B, I have come to terms with the inevitability of death, and that being a doctor can aid in people's healing in more ways than simply preventing death. My resolve to become a doctor is strengthened as I find comfort in the fact that even if I am unable to save every life as a doctor, I can still heal people through compassion. Now at 23 years old, I finally have comfort and understanding for my 19-year-old self.