Growing up in Montreal, my mom prioritized education and sports, so I was doing something every single day of the week. I would go to school, come home, and do my homework, but then I would have swim class, or karate, or track, or volleyball, or gymnastics. I did them all. On top of that, I spent my Saturdays until the age of twelve in “Farsi school,” learning to converse in my mother’s native tongue. Really, there was little downtime, but I had a good childhood.
My love for sports led me to major in kinesiology as an undergraduate. I thought I was going to be an athletic trainer or physical therapist, but during my first year one of my professors told us that it was “so hard to get into medical school;” he basically said, “none of you should even try.” Medicine wasn’t even on my radar at that point, but I thought to myself, “What, it’s competitive? I’ll show you… I’ll do it just to show you.”
From that point on, I was laser focused. Once I started taking my medical prerequisites, I realized that I loved the subjects I was studying, especially anatomy and physiology, and I am very passionate about medicine and surgery to this day. In hindsight, that professor did me a huge service by challenging me: most people say, “I went into medicine because I knew my whole life that I wanted to help people,” but I went into medicine because someone told me I couldn’t do it.
I attended medical school at the University of Toronto. At first, I thought that I would do orthopedics or something else related to sports, because I loved athletics growing up. In hindsight, I had no idea how to pick a specialty, but thankfully I kept an open mind. I was interested in a lot of different fields, but I knew I wanted to do surgery. I eventually arrived at general surgery, and once again, I found a challenge to drive me forward: I wanted to help those patients who really needed my help, and I couldn’t help accepting the challenge. From my training in general surgery I developed a fascination with oncology, and from there I decided to focus on breast cancer. I went on to get my master’s degree in clinical epidemiology and afterwards did a year-long fellowship in breast cancer. When I was younger, I thought there was no way that I would move to the United States, but my work eventually brought me to San Antonio. Now that I’m here, I absolutely love it.
Breast cancer is extremely academic: so much is changing every single year. How we treat, what drugs we give, and the types of surgeries we do are constantly evolving as we gather more data and conduct more clinical trials. I really enjoy keeping up with the evolution of treatment. I get to work closely with a multi-disciplinary team, and I read at least a couple of manuscripts each week. In a way, I continue to study just like a medical student as I adapt my knowledge and skills to new situations as treatment recommendations change. We have tumor boards once per week, and I learn a great deal from my colleagues. We debate over cases, and everyone offers their opinions. We reference different clinical trials and present results to each other, always trying to advance treatment for our patients. I have no “ego” about asking other doctors questions: I am always looking to see if there is anything else to learn or any alternative treatment plan that might benefit my patients. I am always pushing the envelope of my own knowledge, and as a health care team we are constantly pushing the envelope of advancing care. Though many people do not realize how much goes on behind the scenes, I am confident I offer my patients the best options available.
As you might surmise given the existence of a tumor board, you deal with a lot of unknowns in medicine, especially with cancer. As a professional, you learn to deal with it. I do worry about my patients sometimes, but I have plenty of hobbies to occupy my time when I go home. My level of caring about each patient has not changed, but I get less emotional each time I have to break bad news. But despite the boundaries of professionalism, my patients have had a great impact on me as a person. I see patients at the most vulnerable times of their lives, and I am amazed by their strength. Most are mothers and grandmothers; they and their families are going through so much uncertainty, and they have no idea what life will be like moving forward. At that point, you have to be hopeful and just try your best. I always try to schedule plenty of time to be with each patient and communicate to them that they are a priority. They have helped me learn to appreciate life so much more. Anytime I have a hard day, or I’m stuck in traffic, or I find myself wanting to complain, I remind myself that I don’t have cancer and I’m not in the trauma bay. At the end of the day, I love being able to intervene on behalf of my patients, and I relish the privilege of telling them that the tumor is “going in the garbage.”
Story: Will Young, Photos: Sujaan Lal