Inside my own humble clinic, the two walls and beige curtain bore witness to countless anecdotes—the last of which just happened this week. JM seemed well, save for a left breast mass with roughly the size of an orange and roughly six months in duration. Like most first-time patients, her face was painted with overwhelming fear, anxiety, and hesitation.
I interviewed her and performed a routine palpation of the mass. It was firm and almost felt malevolent. I then instructed her to undergo some laboratory exams and referred her to a program for charity breast care cancer patients. This program offered breast cancer patients like JM a fighting chance for cure through assistance with chemotherapy. I gave her my cellphone number in case she had any concerns during the course of treatment.
As an oncologist, I often find myself standing between the big C and the patients. After a few cycles of treatment, I noticed a dramatic shrinkage of her breast mass. Gradually, the fearful and anxious JM during our first encounter transformed into a more hopeful and motivated cancer warrior. Everything went on smoothly until that unprecedented day of a Luzon-wide lockdown was declared. The world stopped and cancer treatments were indefinitely delayed. Unfortunately, for cancer patients like JM, their tumor cells continue their merciless uncontrolled growth in the absence of regular chemotherapy.
COVID-19 is one of the biggest and most challenging health battles of the world in recent history. The virus continues to paralyze thousands of people with lasting effects on health, finances, livelihood, among others. Cancer patients are at a particularly high risk of contracting the virus due to their immunocompromised state. JM is one of the millions of Filipinos plagued by this virus.
“Doc, ang last chemo ko po ay May 4. Makakapag-schedule pa ba ako ng susunod na chemo?”
Due to the recent lockdown, JM temporarily halted selling local kakanin to augment her meager income. Her cancer treatment was not only plagued by the virus—it was also threatened by the lack of transportation, impending unemployment, and undue treatment delays. We constantly kept in touch during the course of her treatment mostly through text messaging. Soon I learned the impetus behind her resilience: her only child has atrial septal defect, is undergoing rehabilitation because of developmental delay, and on top of all these, she is battling breast cancer.
“Doc, salamat. Dahil sa iyo, nagawa ko magpa-chemo at nagkaroon ako ng lakas ng loob.”
Instead of smiles and cheers on the faces of healthworkers on the frontline, N95 masks and face shields conceal their sweat and tears while hazmats hide their weary souls. On the other side, JM and the rest of the backliners face their own unsung battles every single day.
Not all heroes wear vibrant red capes. Some heroes wear tattered capes of strength, resilience, and hope. And not all heroes fight to save the whole of humanity, some backliners fight for their cancer, for tomorrow, for their only child. Padayon!
Rogelio N. Velasco, Jr. MD | Published in Healthscape Special COVID-19 Issue No. 15
