A Valentine for my Oncologist

It's Valentine's Day, and while most people are focused on flowers, chocolate, and fancy dinners with their significant others, I wanted to take some time to send a little love to my oncologist.

The bond between doctor and patient -- especially if that patient is battling cancer -- is one of those make or break relationships. This isn't like your dentist that you see once a year, or a doctor you check in with when you need a prescription for something. This is a person you see all the time -- for treatment, for check-ups, for discussions about scan results. This is a person with whom you discuss every aspect of your health -- your energy levels, your GI function, whether or not you're having heart palpitations, what you should and shouldn't be eating, how much you're sleeping.

Oh yeah, and this is a person ultimately tasked with keeping you alive. Without the care of an oncologist, a cancer patient is probably in some serious trouble.

As you can gather, the oncologist/cancer warrior relationship is not a casual one. In some cases -- like when the doctor's too cold and withdrawn or the patient's too angry or freaked out -- it's probably an uneasy relationship. But luckily, I know nothing about that. Because in other cases -- like when the doctor is Heinz-Josef Lenz and the patient is WunderGlo -- the relationship is nothing short of legendary. 

The thing with Dr. Lenz is he's way more than you think he'd be. His reputation as The best GI oncologist, as THE thought leader in colon cancer, precedes him. You can't think of Dr. Lenz without thinking of his brilliant career and the even more incredible things that he'll do in the future. You can't think of Dr. Lenz without being awed by him. 

But when I think of him, I quickly get past all that, because that's hardly what he's all about. Dr. Lenz is, without a doubt, one of the most compassionate and caring people I've ever met. And I'm not talking about "the most compassionate and caring" among medical professionals -- I'm comparing him to the thousands of people I've met and known in every walk of life. Dr. Lenz doesn't just care for his patients -- he cares dearly for them. He doesn't just want them to be well -- he wants more than anything for them to be well. And you can't spend one minute with him as his patient without knowing that just as surely as you know your name.

Of course, Dr. Lenz and I were fast friends. I remember the day I met him, fresh out of surgery with Dr. Ramos at Good Samaritan and a brand new entrant into the world of cancer. I knew my diagnosis was serious and my chances at survival were low, but I wasn't stunned or shaken by any of that. As I waited in a clinic room for him, I was totally focused on beating cancer and drafting a winning team. I knew that my oncologist would be the key part of that team, only second in the chain of command to myself. I heard Dr. Lenz coming down the hall -- the now-unmistakable sound of his marching feet -- and within seconds, he was at my side, rattling off diet and vitamin suggestions and his vision for my treatment. He didn't hesitate when discussing my diagnosis, and never made a sad face or apologized for what was in store for me. He never pitied me, nor did he treat me in a detached or distant way. He was right by my side, and he would continue to be if I chose him as my doctor. I could tell right away that Dr. Lenz was just like me in one important way: neither of us were afraid of cancer. I knew right away that he was my guy. 

It's been almost a year and a half since that day, and Dr. Lenz has become one of the most important people in my life. Far more than the doctor primarily responsible for saving my life (no big deal, right?), Dr. Lenz is my friend, someone that I can talk to and joke with about anything. He's also my partner in the fight against cancer, a board member of The WunderGlo Foundation and a tireless advocate for finding the cure. He's the same guy I'll argue with about vegan eating (don't worry, he'll come around soon), plan speaking engagements with, and smack in the arm after a good joke. I look up to him, I rely on him, I respect him, and I love him.

It's hard to truly quantify how much Dr. Lenz means to me, but let me put it this way: if i had to choose between never knowing him and never having cancer, or having cancer and knowing him, I'd pick having cancer every single time. Every single time.

So Happy Valentine's Day, Dr. Lenz. You inspire me every day.