How to Be Truly Helpful

Insights on giving and receiving support when it matters most

Credit: Dean Mitchell/Getty Images

For nearly five years, I’ve worked in clinical research in the division of oncology at a leading research institution in the United States, interacting chiefly with lung cancer patients in an outpatient setting. Working as a clinical research coordinator with people who have a terminal diagnosis is extremely difficult, but I am proud to be a helper.

Like many people, I have a history of depression (and, more recently, anxiety). Last month, I visited the ER twice due to a significant mental health episode.

In light of this, I have been reflecting on my experience as both a support person in the medical world and someone with his own health challenges. Although I draw some parallels, in no way is it my intention to equate my mental health issues with a terminal illness.

Providing help

Working in clinical research has been a truly rewarding and humbling experience. The patients I encounter are often terminal at diagnosis and have chosen to donate whatever time they have left to participating in clinical trials. They have elected to undergo novel treatments that, frankly, may or may not benefit them. The data collected from these gracious patients, whether positive or negative, is extremely valuable in advancing the understanding of their disease. Their participation is an extraordinary, altruistic act.

I am not a clinician; however, I work closely with physicians, nurse coordinators, treatment room nurses, and research pharmacists regarding patient care. Everyone who interfaces with study patients is a helper, and every one of them plays a more active role in clinical support than I do. I’m basically there to make sure the protocol is followed, like a clinical trial referee of sorts.

For example, I can’t prescribe an anti-nausea medication, but I can tell the nurse that the patient is nauseous. I can collaborate with the pharmacy to determine which anti-emetics won’t interfere with the patient’s treatment. And I can work with the physician to help them decide whether treatment should be held on account of the nausea. I am a single cog in a very, very large machine.