The Road Less Traveled: Perspective From an Australian Oncologist

Listen to ASCO's Journal of Clinical Oncology essay, "The Road Less Traveled: Perspective From an Australian Oncologist" by Stephanie Hui-Su Lim, Medical Oncologist at Macarthur Cancer Therapy center in New South Wales, Australia. The essay is followed by an interview with Lim and host Dr. Lidia Schapira. Lim shares her thoughts as an oncologist dealing with a patient that has decided not to continue with treatment.

TRANSCRIPT

Narrator: "The Road Less Traveled: Perspective From an Australian Oncologist" by Stephanie Hui-Su Lim

He had been diagnosed with metastatic colorectal cancer in his late 30s and was responding well to first-line treatment. Physically fit, with a good tolerance to therapy, there was no stigma of sickness or telltale signs of cancer lurking around him. His partner usually attends with him, offers polite nods, few questions asked, but you could sense her underlying nervousness and fear of the unknown. Between the short phrases of broken English and the interpreter talking, consultations were usually pleasant, the right questions were asked, and I would end the consultation by asking how his family was doing back in Vietnam.

Born to Chinese-Vietnamese parents in a city on the outskirts of the capital, he migrated to Australia 10 years ago. He worked hard, exercised, ate a healthy blend of an Asian and Western diet, and check-boxed all the requisites to build a good life.

On this occasion, his cancer was slowly progressing although remained largely asymptomatic. His optimism stayed stable, and he kept his full-time job. I discussed switching treatment.

"Do you have any questions?"

As I shuffled the consent form, information sheets in Vietnamese, pathology form, imaging request, and follow-up bookings, I waited for the interpreter on the other end of the phone to speak. COVID-19 was still lingering, and our face-to-face interpreter service had largely been replaced by phone calls.

My now 40-year-old patient, alone today in the clinic room, looked at me and the care coordinator, then spoke something to the phone.

The voice on the other end said he has no questions, he is "keen to get on with it."

"Ok then, we'll get him to sign here, and I'll need your healthcare interpreter number too."

An exchange of words ensued, perhaps some things were repeated over. Then my patient smiled, and waited.

"He says thank you doctor but he doesn't want any treatment." It was not the answer I was expecting.

I had explained his slow disease progression, multiple lines available, and good tolerability of treatment, maintaining his quality of life and maximizing survival. I had gone through the projected life expectancy at this point, which was still measured in the order of short years if we pursued all standard therapies.

"Can you ask him again? That he does not want any treatment?"

Perhaps the interpreter had not relayed what I said. Perhaps I had not emphasized the benefits of continuing treatment. Perhaps there were misplaced reasons for declining evidence-based treatment, the clues of which I had learned to pick up quickly, gleaned from conversations over family dinners from my own family of migrants.

When my patients decline treatment in a context where the clinical benefits clearly outweigh potential harm, I often feel I have not done enough. If I spent more time talking them through their decision making, guiding them through hypothetical what-if scenarios, then would we have gotten to the same page? Was I sure they were compos mentis? Should I call the other listed relatives and have the same conversation with them?

In his case, he had made a capable and informed decision.

We are used to the well-trodden path of exhausting appropriate standard treatment before transitioning to a best supportive care approach. However, when patients choose the less traveled path where their cancer journey and life expectancy are truncated by choice, we may struggle to understand their decision. I felt a sense of frustration at his polite declining of potential years of life and unfairness when the next patient, unfit and exhausted of all therapies, begged for more treatment options or anything that could give them another extra day. I sought to try to better understand the reasoning behind his decision. I have encountered many culturally and linguistically diverse (CALD) patients throughout my journey as an oncologist and personal experiences in my own migrant family. Our health district has one of the most diverse populations in the state, with one in 10 having limited English proficiency. Almost half the population speak a language other than English.1 We often see as many interpreters as patients in the waiting room, multiple extended family members crowding into small consult rooms, and multitude of language translations of patient booklets being the only recognizable information to new patients in an otherwise foreign cancer center. I understood the importance of cultural awareness, and that cultural differences feed into decision making. But what were the beliefs, concepts, and cultural norms that shape what they do and value? An Australian study investigating the attitudes of Chinese migrant patients toward cancer identified several key areas including the nondisclosure of a poor prognosis, importance of family in mediating between health professionals and patients, incorporation of Chinese culture–specific treatment, importance of interpreters, and psychological and spiritual support.2 Chinese patients use combat strategies on the basis of traditional Chinese medicine, Chinese beliefs of food to maintain health, exercise with Qigong, Feng Shui/spatial organization, and ancestor worship.3 Chinese illness conceptualization includes concepts of karma, fate, and retribution.4 There are recurring themes that arise, with another study highlighting the importance of the Chinese beliefs in fate and luck, ying and yang, stoicism as a coping mechanism, importance of family, fear of losing face, and denial of diagnosis as a means of protecting the family. A common thread of family playing an essential role, rather than a patient autonomy approach, was evident. There is a need to incorporate these beliefs into culturally appropriate programs.5 Sadly, not much is known about the cultural impacts on patient decision making. Research into race, culture, and ethnicity is thought to be too restrictive.6 Research investigating interventions to improve patient-centered care and participation in the treatment process in CALD has found positive effects of culturally tailored video and patient navigator interventions.7 A recent review also found patient navigation as an effective strategy in improving patient care, from screening through to diagnosis, treatment initiation, and likely also in the active treatment and survivorship phase.8 Importantly, cultural barriers were evident. An Australian study looking at CALD needs in outpatient cancer clinics highlighted the importance of recognizing language-related needs and care teams adapting practices and available resources to make it work for CALD communities.9 Work in other CALD groups has also focused on the triadic relationship between the patient, the patient's family, and physicians.10 Latin American women who were less acculturated deferred to their families or friends to make treatment decisions, highlighting the importance of familism as one of the most culturally specific values for Latinas. Loyalty and solidarity among members of the family are integral to decision making. Asian and Latino patients are seen to have a higher rate of patient passivity because of cultural norms that respect physician authority.11 A systemic review of cancer beliefs in minority populations, the majority based in United Kingdom and United States, found low health literacy, fatalism, and stoicism as common themes.12 Decision making in a systematic review, with a predominant African American minority group, found the themes of spirituality, fatalism, and acculturation to be important in the treatment decision process.13 Ultimately, all these cultural beliefs and concepts feed into how patients decide which treatment road they wish to take. Shared decision making models in ethnic minorities have taken into account human values recognized across different countries and the relation between these.14,15

As clinicians, we often focus on the disease, with the goal being to get rid of as many cancer cells as we humanly can and prolong our patient's life expectancy while maintaining quality of life. I often feel we require tangible goals which can be measured in time and percentages, hazard ratios, and survival odds at 2 or 3 years. For the patient sitting on the opposite side of the desk, who are only single points on a Kaplan-Meier curve, goals may be very different, shaped by their own cultural values and beliefs. What numerical value can we place on traveling overseas back home, enjoying conversations over family dinners, rather than going to the cancer center for the next cycle of treatment?

My patient had decided his goal was to return home to his family in Vietnam. I saw him in clinic several times, each time gaining more of an understanding of his decision. I spoke to his partner, we obtained a face-to-face interpreter. We discussed culturally appropriate support groups. He was active in local community groups who provided spiritual and existential support. I enquired about herbal remedies, which he had been on preceding his cancer diagnosis and continued with our pharmacist's approval. We turned to discussing where he was going to be living in Vietnam, potential complications during the flight home, provision of a medical letter, and copies of his tests. He remained uncertain about the prospect of further treatment, that it was hard to access good medical care and did not offer any answers about whether he planned to seek out treatment in the big city hospitals back home. He reassured me he would be fine.

Every time I see a CALD patient, I remember my patient who politely said no, thank you. I wondered if he ever accessed any treatment, how quickly his disease progressed, when and how he died. My initial frustration has evolved into the understanding of how important it was for him to be surrounded by family. I found solace knowing he died with family by his side. The treatment he wanted could not be offered through an intravenous drip or medication. It could only be found in the safe familiarity of family. Every time I see a CALD patient, I try to create a culturally familiar place for them to be treated and place their decision making amid their cultural beliefs, norms, and values.

The theme of last year's World Cancer Day is "Close The Care Gap." Language, literacy, ethnicity, race, income, education, socioeconomic status, and geographical location are just a few of the factors that contribute to the cancer care gap. We need to have cultural sensitivity in mainstream health care and respect the differences that feed into the decision to accept or decline treatment in ethnic minority groups. Ethnic minorities are defined as nondominant groups, connected by a shared cultural heritage, values, and often language. It is important to note that this is also a relative definition, and my patient in Australia falls into the CALD group, but would be the dominant group back in his home country of Vietnam. Health and illness are not only visceral but also a social and cultural phenomenon. Sometimes, it is recognizing that closing the care gap does not bring us to the same destination, but to walk the road less traveled with them. As the years pass and I reflect on my patient's cancer journey, I have come to understand that as his doctor, it was my job to ensure he understood his disease and treatment options. However, perhaps even more importantly as his doctor, it was my honor to support him down the path he had chosen.

Dr. Lidia Schapira: Hello and welcome to JCO's Cancer stories, the Art of Oncology, which features essays and personal reflections from authors exploring their experience in the field of oncology. I'm your host, Dr. Lidia Schapira. I'm a Professor of Medicine at Stanford University. With me today is Dr. Stephanie Lim, a Medical Oncologist at Macarthur Cancer Therapy center in New South Wales, Australia. In this episode, we will be discussing her Art of Global Oncology article, "The Road Less Traveled: Perspective from an Australian Oncologist".

At the time of this recording, our guest has no disclosures.

Steph, welcome to our podcast, and thank you for joining us.

Dr. Stephanie Lim: Thank you very much for having me.

Dr. Lidia Schapira: Let's start by talking a little bit about the role of writing and reflection for us in oncology practice. Tell us a little bit about what led you to write this case up and then to decide to share it with your colleagues.

Dr. Stephanie Lim: Yeah, so writing is definitely a creative outlet for me. I also love to paint, and I think there's so much art in the oncology space. There's so much storytelling, the rich and diverse stories that our patients live out in their cancer journey. So I think for me, writing definitely is an avenue for me to process the patient scenarios, to distill what I've experienced emotionally with the patient in front of me, and really to put it down on paper. It's almost a debriefing exercise as well for me sometimes. It's quite cathartic to write and to paint, and I find it's also a way to remember a patient. So if there's something I really don't want to forget, I think writing is a way to almost memorialize that patient's scenario and that patient experience.

Dr. Lidia Schapira: Very beautifully said. So with that, let's go to the case in the particular patient that you chose to write about. And in my reading of your essay, I think you have a message. What is that message for the reader?

Dr. Stephanie Lim: So I think let's take a step back and just go through some of the themes that really resonated with me, that took me quite a few years to go through and think through before I actually wrote it down in this essay. In fact, this essay is an amalgamation of quite a few cultural and linguistically diverse, or CALD patients that I've met and looked after over the years, and those themes just kept recurring.

The first is patients when they said no to treatment. As a clinician, I struggle. I struggle with that when patients flatly refuse what I sincerely feel is the best treatment option for them. I feel frustration, disappointment, even anger and sadness, almost grieving that lost opportunity for potential life lengthening years that the patients may otherwise have. In fact, I was listening to one of your other podcasts the other day, "Knuckleheads", which, again, resonated with me because it was, again about another story of patient refusal and a different story, but the same theme. And I think when you add the CALD population into it, which is really the theme, the message of this essay, you add another layer of complexity, another layer of cultural diversity and differences to an already complex decision making process. So those two things really sort of challenged me over the years.

And I think the other pervasive theme is that human side. We always talk about the art of oncology, the humanistic aspect, but it's true. So I think the importance of the patient's story and really just paying attention to the background and that lived experience. Someone once told me, medicine, it's a humanistic enterprise, it's not just about numbers and medians. In fact, in the essay I mentioned that the patient in front of me is really just one point on a Kaplan–Meier curve. Medians to them don't really mean very much. There's really no value that we can place on time spent with family. Or in this case, when I tell a patient they've got progression, or try and outline and map out the next treatment plan, and then they turn around and ask me, "Okay, doc. So can I hop on a plane, fly across to the other side of the world and spend three months with my family? Because that's what I want to do." So I think there's that struggle of trying to really do what's best for the patient in terms of medians and survival and quality of life, but also trying to balance those things that are really hard to put a value on.

I hope the message of this essay is that we can try and understand, identify these things, pay attention to patients, listen to their stories, and really help appreciate those choices. So it's certainly by listening to them and really trying to understand more about CALD and the concepts and values behind their decision making. I've grown to appreciate the choices they make and really helped to support them down what I called the path less traveled, a very unfamiliar path that I otherwise wouldn't have chosen for them.

Dr. Lidia Schapira: So let's unpack all of these wisdoms that you've just told us about. The motivation is clear, the intentions are clear. Let's talk a little bit about your discomfort as an oncologist, because I'm sure our readers and our listeners have experienced that when a patient gives you an informed decision to refuse treatment, why do you think it makes us so uncomfortable? And why did it make you so uncomfortable to have your patient say, "Thank you very much, I understand you, but no thanks"?

Dr. Stephanie Lim: Yeah, I think as clinicians we want the best for our patients. And I think a lot of the time that is what's best in terms of survival, what the evidence says we should be doing, weighing up the pros and cons of treatment. And we map out the lines of treatment for our patients while trying to maintain a quality of life and take into account all their wishes, of course. But I think sometimes we might get carried away with what we want for them or what we feel is best for them. But listening, if you really spend time asking what they really want, it might be something as simple as I just want to spend more time with my family rather than coming to the chemo suite for another infusion. I think as time goes on I'm doing a lot more listening, a lot less talking.

When I started out I was telling patients medians and this is what we're going to expect, this is the 50% survival rates, and a lot of time patients look at me and it means not very much to them. So I think for us there is a root that in our minds we've mapped out for them which we sincerely feel is the best for them. And I think when they refuse that it can be quite frustrating, but also I think, challenging because as I said, it's a path that's unfamiliar. When patients go from diagnosis to, "Well, I actually don't want any treatment," really they shorten their- as I think I put in the essay, intentionally shortening their survival and choosing best supportive care when they're not there yet is something that I still struggle with, especially in my younger patients.

Dr. Lidia Schapira: So let's talk a little bit about that. And I'm just challenging you in the best possible collegial way here when we talk about honoring our patients autonomy and providing sufficient information for them to really give us informed consent based on being aware of their choices and trade offs. And yet when those decisions don't conform to what we think we would choose or what we've recommended, there's disquiet. And yes, we know that the patient ultimately is the main decider on what gives their life value and meaning, but it's difficult for us. Can you talk a little bit about how you resolve this tension in your practice? Even if a patient is very fluent in your primary language, that's almost a detail. It complicates things here. But it's not the only thing that really, I think, is so challenging and feels so difficult sometimes for the oncologist.

Dr. Stephanie Lim: Yes, I think in the CALD population, there's several other layers of complexity. So yes, the patient is ultimately the person receiving treatment and yes, they are the ones who should be deciding what they want. I think in the CALD population it's more complex because we talk about patient and clinician shared decision making, but there is this triad of family physician and patient relationship that exists in a lot of CALD populations, not only in Southeast Asian or South Asian, but perhaps even in the Latin American population, and that importance of families. So there is not just a patient and a physician, but there is also the whole family that is making that decision.

To complicate things in Asian culture, there is also this autonomy that's given to the doctor. So that belief that the decision making in some ways should be delegated to the health professional because they're the ones who know what they're doing. And a lot of my Asian patients might say, "Well, you're the doctor. You should be telling me what to do." So I think it's a balance between respecting that, if that is their belief, respecting that doctor autonomy, but also taking into account that triad of decision making with patients, family, and even the wider community. So I think certainly in a CALD population, my approach would be to really understand why they've made that decision, to involve the family in that decision making, perhaps to see the patient over time, over multiple consultations, which we've done with this particular patient in the essay, and really just to understand what the barriers are or what their reasons are for going down a different path to what I've recommended. And I think once that's all unpacked, I think it becomes quite clear and it gets us to the same page.

Dr. Lidia Schapira: So, Steph, if this patient had been 65 or older, do you think it would have been easier for you to accept his decision to say 'no' to treatment and go home to be with family, whether or not access to any treatment is available to him there?

Dr. Stephanie Lim: That's a good point. I think I personally do struggle more in my younger patients, patients closer in age to me at a similar stage of life, they have young children, and I think a lot of it is because they are so fit. We feel that they can tolerate so many lines of treatment. I'm almost grieving that lost opportunity, lost time that they may have with their children or their family. So I think definitely in the younger patients, it resonates with me more. I struggle more with that. Having said that, it's still a struggle when older patients who are fit for treatment say 'no'. But definitely, I agree with you. I think the younger patients definitely are harder to manage.

Dr. Lidia Schapira: I was very impressed in reading your essay with the fact that you remained curious about the person who was your patient. You were curious and engaged and wanted to learn what he was thinking. And you not only wanted to make sure that he understood his options medically, but you wanted to understand the context, as you say, who else was influencing the decision, and still wanted to preserve the relationship. Tell us a little bit about how that evolved over time and what you learned and how you brought yourself to a place where you could accept this, at least not be distressed by his refusal of treatment.

Dr. Stephanie Lim: So I think, again, a lot of it was listening to his stories. Over time, that conversation shifted from me trying to tell him that if you have this treatment, this is what we expect, this is what we could gain. These are the survival years that you potentially could benefit from. So I think the conversation, over time, shifted from that to a focus on his values, other support systems, whether it's the support communities that were in place, the importance of even complementary or Chinese medicines that he was also pursuing, basically trying to unpack all that. And I think our conversations shifted from a lot less talk about treating the cancer to treating him as a person and what he needed.

So I think over time, I basically sat back and listened to him and what he wished to do. And over time, that conversation then evolved into, "Okay, you're going to leave, so how can I best support you?" And even then, I was trying to see if he was going to seek treatment overseas. I was ready to call someone at the other end of the world to say, "Here are the medical records. This is what can be done for him." But I think over time, I've come to realize that definitely was not his priority. He needed to be with family. He wanted to go home. And as a clinician, as his treating clinician, I think my job was to support him through that and try and understand. So I think over time, just spending that time listening to them, I did understand. I did struggle with it. But I think ultimately, I was at peace with his decision.

Dr. Lidia Schapira: In the essay, you mentioned that your family also migrated to Australia. Do you think that their experience in some way has shaped your attitude towards understanding cultural and linguistic differences? And if so, how?

Dr. Stephanie Lim: Yeah, thanks for asking that, Lidia. So I was born in Southeast Asia. In fact, I grew up in Brunei, on Borneo island, which is in the heart of Southeast Asia. My dad is Bruneian. My mom is Malaysian. I did finish off my high school in Australia and did all my medical training in Australia. So this is through an Australian lens. In fact, the reviewers wanted me to include that, to point out that CALD is a very relative definition. But I think I class myself as a 1.5 generation Australian. So I hope that I do have some insights from my background and my upbringing to understand a little bit more about the nuances, to be able to pick out some of the subtleties when I see patients, when I talk to patients, that complex cultural belief that underpins all their decision making. So I think that definitely, I hope, has enabled me to be more sensitive and to be able to pick out some of those nuances that helps me better understand and frame a patient's decision making.

Dr. Lidia Schapira: And ultimately, did you feel all right with your decision and your patient's decision?

Dr. Stephanie Lim: Yes, I did. So I think ultimately, the goal is to create this culturally safe and appropriate place for patients where they're comfortable, where the clinicians are also comfortable with that final decision that we reached. And I think we got there. But my hope is that with all future patients, that we can create this with the help of patient care navigators, patient translators. It comes from a systems level, a team level, and definitely an individual level to understand, identify these concepts, as I pointed out in the essay, to reach a point where we feel that the patients have had a culturally safe and language appropriate care, that we've explored all the avenues, all their concepts, all their beliefs, and we've reached the decision that we're both comfortable with.

Dr. Lidia Schapira: Well, Steph, it's been a pleasure to chat with you today, and I know that I did, and I know my colleagues have learned a lot from reading your story and wish you all the best. And thank you for sending your work to JGO.

Dr. Stephanie Lim: Thank you, Lidia, it was a pleasure chatting to you.

Dr. Lidia Schapira: And until next time, thank you for listening to JCO's Cancer Stories, The Art of Oncology. Don't forget to give us a rating or review, and be sure to subscribe so you never miss an episode. You can find all of ASCO shows asco.org/podcasts.

The purpose of this podcast is to educate and to inform. This is not a substitute for professional medical care and is not intended for use in the diagnosis or treatment of individual conditions.

Guests on this podcast express their own opinions, experience, and conclusions. Guest statements on the podcast do not express the opinions of ASCO. The mention of any product, service, organization, activity, or therapy should not be construed as an ASCO endorsement.