Day 27 of Childhood Cancer Awareness Month chats with Second Year Med Student, Marissa Dregen-Tretheway!

It's always a profound morning for my husband, Bill, and me when we're invited by Dr. Aziza Shad to share our story at Grand Rounds at Medstar Georgetown Hospital, typically during Childhood Cancer Awareness Month. The medical students get a front row seat to see what it is like to be a parent of a childhood cancer patient, and a lot of what that entails - the good, bad, and not so good. Ryan always wants us to share with the students that it was video games that saved his life. I'd say he's correct in some way (definitely helped his mental state). Still, it was the medicine, treatment protocols, nurses, doctors, and the medical staff that contributed to where we all stand proudly today, and yes, video games, too.

What was interesting to me at the Grand Rounds on September 16th was that when Dr. Shad asked the students if they had any questions for her or us, not a single hand was raised. However, when she ended the hour, almost all the students ran up to the three of us and started peppering us with questions.

One young lady, a second-year medical student named Marissa, asked me a poignant question: how she might learn to deliver bad or unfavorable news to a family. That one almost sank my heart. I never quivered, but I revealed that if there were any bad news to deliver to an individual or family, I would provide it with the utmost empathy my body could muster.

Be genuine.

Look the patient(s) in the eyes.

Consider them part of the team and let them know that, especially the child, regardless of their age.

Since she was the last student in the lecture hall and we had had a deep chat about a very sobering topic, I asked her if she would tape an episode of CCAM to be shown later this month. Marissa was thrilled I asked. She was poised and professional in our little chat, and I could tell she is consistently trying to improve her bedside manner to be the best doctor she can be in the next few years. Marissa, you've got the chops to be that favorite doctor!

As I spoke with this medical student, I couldn’t help but think of Ryan and the many children like him through almost three decades of intense care. I believe that the next generation of doctors will carry not only stethoscopes and iPads, but also the responsibility to see the child, the family, and the fight to bring deep compassion alongside the utmost care they can muster in their busy days.