Ol Clet

I wrote this post about a week ago, but then tabled it. It seems I have a lot of memories of patients who have passed away. But Clet deserves mention.

I thought I would continue with some memories from my practice of the people, patients, and friends that have made a difference. In many cases, the line between patient and friend has blurred over a couple of years of caring for a patient. Clet was one of these people who was both a patient and a man I considered my friend.

Clet came to me after a biopsy by his primary doctor. The biopsy had turned up an extremely rare kind of cancer, not quite skin cancer, not quite a neuro cancer. Even after fairly extensive searches by myself as well as my oncologist and radiation oncologist, we never really had a good handle on how to treat this thing, mainly because it was so rare there were no organized studies on treatment. All of the literature was based on case reports, "I treated one of these cancers," type items. So none of us were really sure how to best treat this. In addition, Clet was pushing 80, so using a highly toxic regimen really didn't make a lot of sense either, as the treatment would be worse than the disease.

Clet and his wife were much like the Green's, both upright by leaning on the other. They came to every appointment together, sometimes with one of their children, other times, just the two of them, but always together. I quickly learned that despite a neuro condition that slowed his speech considerably, Clet was sharp as a tack, with a wonderful sense of humor. My office staff planned on a little extra time for Clet, they knew it took him a bit to get out what he had to say.

After first doing a wide excision of the skin lesion, I then followed Clet as the wound healed. As soon as we had healing, he underwent a course of radiation to the site, and, for about a year, he did well. He then showed up back in my office with a lump in his armpit. A biopsy showed this was a recurrence, and he underwent another round of radiation. It was during this period that Mrs. Clet fell and broke a hip. She recovered nicely, and after a short stay in assisted living, they were back home again, and, Oh, the tales Clet told. Both of them were using walkers now, and they quickly discovered that they couldn't pass in the hallway of their home-- one or the other had to turn around and go back. So they developed the habit of calling an all clear down the hall before starting down to avoid these one lane tie-ups. Since Clet was a good half foot taller than Mrs., it made for a hilarious tale when he got up in the middle of the night to take care of business and grabbed the wrong walker.

Over the course of another year, I followed Clet, meeting more and more of his family as different sons, daughters, nieces and nephews helped shuttle he and Mrs. back and forth. He asked me about my children, and I kept up to date on the comings and goings of his extended family. Eventually, the cancer returned, and now it was in the vital organs. Once again, I found myself visiting with Clet, now in the hospital. I was there with Clet on the day he passed away. Up until the end, Clet's humor never let up, and he continued to cheer up those around him. Clet's was a funeral I attended, as he had passed from patient to friend a couple of years ago. Although I had done very little to treat him over the last year -- his disease was now in the realm of oncologists and radiation therapy -- his family told me that he treasured his visits with me, and that mine was the opinion he valued most. With his slow speech, Clet could have been someone I rushed through and never got to know. So often I think of him, and how grateful I am that I didn't miss this wonderful person in my life.