The children’s section of the ocular oncology service was a place of bustling activity. Children of all ages peeked from behind doors, waving and smiling. While many waited, playing with toys or resting on their parents’ laps, none brought more life to the clinic than little Ella. Every physician, technician, and fellow on the service knew Ella, a retinoblastoma patient, not only because of her bubbly nature but also because of her supporting mother, Sophie, who was always by her side.

For me, Ella became a beacon of resilience. Whenever I entered the room, I’d always find her moving around, crafting stories with her dolls, playing, or laughing with other team members. She would look at the world with her one good eye.

One day, after an intensive examination by the lead ocular oncologist on the team, I was discussing Ella’s progress with Sophie in the room. We were going over her prognosis, treatment regimen, and how she was adapting. Ella was playing in a corner with her dolls, seemingly engrossed in her world. Just as we were wrapping up, Sophie, looking somewhat distressed, said, “There’s something I’d like to share.”

I leaned in, expecting a concern about Ella’s treatment. Instead, Sophie’s voice broke as she whispered, “I’ve been diagnosed with breast cancer.”

The room was filled with a poignant silence. Here was a mother, fighting for her child’s future, now facing her own battle. I could see the fear in her eyes, not for herself but for Ella. What would become of her vibrant little girl?

Sophie continued, “I haven’t told Ella yet. I don’t know how.” She looked towards her daughter, her face a mix of pride and pain. “She’s been my rock, and now I need to be hers. But how can I when my world is falling apart?”

I walked over to Sophie and held her hand. “We’ll get through this, together. Just like Ella, you’re not alone.”

Over the next few weeks, Sophie started her own treatment. Ella became a bridge between the pediatric ocular oncology and adult oncology wards, spreading her infectious spirit even while grappling with the news of her mother’s illness. She would often say, “Mommy and I are warriors. We have matching battles.”

This journey with Ella and Sophie taught me about the fragility and resilience of the human spirit. Their unrelenting hope and courage despite formidable odds showed me the importance of solidarity in adversity and the power of mutual support. They reminded me that sometimes our battles aren’t fought alone, but side by side, hand in hand and taught me the importance of collective resilience over solitary endurance.

It made me rethink my approach with my patients and their families. I began to understand the significance of inquiring about their worlds outside the confines of their diseases. “How have you been lately?” or “How’s your family doing?” became my opening lines. It was about acknowledging the battles they faced outside the hospital walls, the dreams they harbored, and the love that kept them going.

A couple of weeks later, a note arrived at my desk. It read:

“Dear Dr. Antonio,

Life throws challenges, but it’s the kindness from people like you that makes it bearable. Ella and I are profoundly grateful to remain cancer-free and on a path towards better health. Your involvement in our care left a lasting impact. I wanted to thank you for looking beyond our diseases, for seeing us, for caring when hope seemed so bleak. Keep shining and helping others shine too!

Love,

Ella and Sophie.”

Their story will forever remind me that as a doctor, my role is not just to heal but to treat patients with humanity, to hold hands, to listen, and give hope to my patients by empathizing with them, genuinely listening to their concerns, and being present in the moments of their greatest vulnerability no matter how dark the journey gets. This experience will stay with me as a reminder to always approach each person with compassion and understanding, because every patient carries a story that goes beyond their diagnosis, and it is within these stories that the true essence of healing often lies.

Download a copy of Eyes on Hope – Antonio Yaghy, MD

Bio: Antonio Yaghy, MD, is a first-year ophthalmology resident at the University of Massachusetts. Before residency, he dedicated five years to clinical research in ocular oncology and retina. In addition to his passion for ophthalmic research, he enjoys creating digital art, playing music, and writing poetry. His artistic works have been selected for publication in several medical journals, including the AMA Journal of Ethics, the Canadian Medical Education Journal, Palliative & Supportive Care, and JAMA Oncology, among others.