Monday, February 13, 2012

Health

USN Current Issue

2. Find a mentor

Not just a companion, but a trusted medical guide

By Bernadine Healy, M.D
Posted 10/31/04

In the olden days of medicine, it was said you could cure half the sick by putting them into bed and the other half by getting them up. And the doctor always knew which was which, for he (almost always a "he") was the unchallenged voice of authority. Medical decisions followed a straight course.

Today we know more and can do more, and for almost any illness the paths to be taken are more maze than unbending line. Doctors present options and offer preferences; patients are told the decision is theirs. That's good if you believe in patient empowerment. It's hard to feel empowered, though, if you aren't sure which way to go. Several medical studies have shown that many people faced with important medical decisions wished they'd had some help, even in framing the right questions to ask their doctors.

Cindy Sweeting, 46, calls her bout with cancer 15 months ago a journey to a place she had never been before. "I cannot imagine planning a trip for your life where you don't have a guide who has seen it with their own eyes, or maybe even lived there before," says Sweeting, director of equity research at Templeton Investments in Fort Lauderdale, Fla. The sheer number of choices she had to make in a short period of time was overwhelming. Which doctors to see. Lumpectomy or mastectomy. How to balance work and family with rounds of chemotherapy and radiation treatments. And breast reconstruction: Would it be too much to take on after months of heavy-duty cancer therapy, or might it be a kind of closure for Sweeting, the last step in her recovery? "It's hard to make these decisions in a vacuum or based only on what you have read," she says.

Mitzvah. She didn't have to. In her sojourn, she sought and found medically knowledgeable mentors who helped her narrow her options. They offered tips and provided perspective perfectly suited to Sweeting's temperament and personal circumstance. Experienced, knowledgeable, and trusted, they brought her confidence and often an emotional boost.

Mentor was the wizened old man in Greek mythology who guided the son of Odysseus as he set off in search of his father. Mentor was an in-the-background kind of guy. He was there, selflessly, to help with fateful choices. But Mentor had an additional dimension: He was none other than Athena, the goddess of wisdom, who took on the form of Mentor to help Odysseus's son during critical moments of his journey. That image well informs a modern-day medical mentor--wise, experienced, trusted, available, unobtrusive. And every bit as important, a mentor takes on this role out of human kindness and not for personal gain. In a biblical sense, mentoring is a mitzvah, a good deed that is its own reward.

For Sweeting, identifying mentors at different steps along the course of her illness was crucial to her recovery. Suzanne Grimes, a friend from New York City, was a first call. Their friendship went back to their college years. They both had children, close families, and high-octane jobs. And they shared similar views on how to face difficult times. As a breast cancer survivor herself, Grimes had already taken the difficult journey. She handled it with decisiveness and courage, the way Sweeting wanted to. When her first biopsy was negative, she confided in Grimes that she was uneasy about the result. Grimes, who knew how nebulous needle biopsies could be, listened carefully and encouraged her to seek another biopsy. When the diagnosis was handed down, Grimes was there, calm and positive, offering tips on hair and clothes, translating some of the medicalese, and filling Sweeting in on how to balance the cycles of treatments with the demands of her work and the needs of her teenage children.

Multiple mentors. The role of medical mentor is by no means exclusive. It makes sense that there can be different guides for different phases of the journey. Early on, Sweeting called on another mentor, Jane Pfeiffer, who lived nearby. She asked Pfeiffer, a close friend of her late mother, to help her find the right doctors. The 72-year-old, plainspoken and full of common sense, had had her own experience with cancer. She, too, was a survivor and had just lost her husband to the disease. Through her past roles as a communications executive, she had many connections in the world of medicine. In a matter of hours, she brought Sweeting several contacts, which led her to the Cleveland Clinic in Florida and her cancer treatment team. Pfeiffer would call or visit regularly, always the thoughtful sounding board and cheerleader.

Nor must mentors be limited to your circle of friends. When her treatments were successfully completed, Sweeting was uncertain about proceeding with breast reconstruction. Her real-estate agent at the time happened to mention that his wife was a veteran of breast cancer treatment and was part of an informal group of about 40 women with similar experiences who lived in their small community of Rio Vista. Sweeting called her and got phone numbers of a few women who had opted for reconstruction.

Sweeting is a private person, not easy putting personal questions to a stranger. That changed. Betsy Keller arrived with food and a bottle of wine, and they sat chatting for quite some time on her front porch. At one point her new friend ripped off her shirt and said, "Here's what mine looks like." The reconstruction actually looked pretty good to Sweeting. "'I can live with that,' I thought."

Mentors are a special breed; it's not a job for everyone. One can be loving and kind and be wholly unsuited to mentoring. It calls for a kind of detachment, demanding that mentors keep their own interests and emotions in check. Know-it-alls also need not apply, for mentors are guides and not there to control or make decisions on behalf of the patient. They help lay out the specs of the journey and weigh its risks and rewards. Sometimes it's just a matter of being there, available.

How can you find someone like that, someone with qualities so singular and special? Most times, such a person is already part of your life, if you only ask--and he or she doesn't have to live nearby; there's always the phone or E-mail. As Sweeting learned, formal or informal groups are also there to be tapped--good neighbors, a community center, your religious congregation. The mentor is often someone who had a similar illness but might be a nurse or doctor or someone schooled in health matters.

Sooner or later, we are all patients facing the maze of medical choices. Agonizing over the paths that offer themselves becomes far more manageable if considered with the counsel of a mentor, wise and trusted.

Who's a mentor?

It is no easy thing to be a mentor. A good one is:

Informed and experienced. Previously dealt with similar medical issues.

Trustworthy. Privacy is paramount.

Available. Willingly and easily reachable almost anytime.

A good, gentle listener. Understands the patient's vulnerability and mind-set.

Empathetic but objective. Keeps own emotions in check.

Never dictates. Guides, not steers.

Expects nothing in return. Mentoring is a mitzvah.

This story appears in the November 8, 2004 print edition of U.S. News & World Report.

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