Letting all readers know that Uzma’s book is now available worldwide as a Kindle edition (ebook version of Amazon).
We can all read on the Kindle device and in the Kindle app of any smartphone.
And those who have purchased the paperback (that is, it was not a gift), can get the Kindle edition for 2.99 USD or comparable price on their local Amazon site.
About one and a half years before she died, Uzma started looking for an appointment with a palliative care physician close to home. She called a few different palliative care physicians’ offices. The conversations would always go the same way.
“Hi this is Uzma Yunus. I have stage 4 breast cancer. I want to make an appointment with Dr. ABC.”
“Have you been referred to hospice?”
“No, but I know that eventually that’s coming my way.”
“Mmm…I am not sure how to do this. Leave your information with us. We will call you back after speaking to the doctor.”
Uzma was an optimist. She continued cancer treatments almost an year longer than a part of her really wanted to because she thought, “There is a chance that the next treatment regimen might click for me. If that happens, my kids will have me around longer.”Uzma was also a realist like none other. She always tried and hoped for the best but knew, based on her review of the literature regarding stage 4 breast cancer, that she was unlikely to make it past this year.
It is really hard to be an optimist and a realist at the same time. It is even harder to be both and be one who plans ahead. Uzma had changed her cancer care from a nearby cancer center to Northwestern when her local oncologist had made treatment recommendations that were inconsistent with treatment guidelines. On most days, however, Northwestern was an hour drive away each way. She knew that ultimately she would need palliative care/hospice and decided she wanted her palliative care team to be local, not based an hour away.
So she started calling the local docs. The conversations always went the same way as above. No one ever called back. Then she got hold of her internist and asked her help in getting an appointment with a palliative care physician. This finally got her the appointment she was seeking.
The palliative care physician was surprised that she was seeing him while still in active treatment. Uzma saw this doctor 4-5 times in his office. When she was eventually referred to hospice by her Northwestern oncologist, she proudly said, “I already have a palliative care physician. I want to be referred to the hospice for which he works.”
When she began hospice it gave her comfort to already know the physician and I’m sure it helped the doctor to already know his patient.
[If you like this post, you may also like its companion post The Hospice Way To A Good Death]
The tributes and the reminiscences have continued to pour in since Uzma breathed her last over a week ago. I have also seen some people write about her on their own social media pages. All of them speak of Uzma in glowing terms. However, some of them say, “Uzma lost her battle with cancer” or something along those lines.
Uzma would have hated, and I hate that description.
Uzma would have said — It is unfair to cancer patients and their families to describe the outcome of their cancer journey as winning or losing. The disease can be such that one can survive and thrive for years after only one bout of treatment. Or it can be relentless and overwhelming, and fail to respond to treatment after treatment. The only choice those with cancer have is whether to embrace their illness, connect with others and live their life fully irrespective of its length. That’s it.
As she says in her book, “That’s how you rock it (cancer). You talk to others, you connect with survivors, and you keep your head high. You make friends with fear. You learn that uncertainty is cancer’s middle name. You stay grateful even in the darkest days. You dress up for chemo. You sport fashionable headgear. You fall and get up again and again and again.”
Uzma did not lose her battle with cancer. Her cancer died with her. But while they were both alive, it was a no contest. Uzma lived the life she wanted to live — without cancer and with it..
Uzma was laid to rest on February 3, 2019 in ceremony attended by close and extended family, old friends, new friends, former coworkers and many people who had never met Uzma but only knew her through her writing. Everyone who loved Uzma, everyone who attended the services, and especially everyone who gave a eulogy made her final services serene and beautiful. Thank you.
Uzma was laid to rest following Muslim tradition because she was born a Muslim. However, she in her life and death she transcended all divides, whether of faith, creed or national origin.
The following text is from the concluding paragraphs of my prepared remarks for her eulogy:
“My Uzma wrote and through her writing touched many lives around the world. Her blog has been read by 300,000 readers in 170 countries. What draws people to her blog and now to her book is not just her simple, unpretentious way with words, but also the way the writing conveys her acceptance of uncertainty and fearlessness in the face of the death. When her cancer recurred and became stage 4, she knew that it would take her. She started to take more of life in, love more deeply, play with more abandon and give of herself more freely. When people reached out to her after reading her blog, she took time to speak to them and sometimes counsel and coach them as a friend. I knew this, but I didn’t know the extent of it until she died and people from around the country and around the world started messaging me saying how she had helped them through 1:1 interaction. And that tells me that she is no longer just mine. Through her writing my Uzma became your Uzma, our Uzma, the world’s Uzma.
David Eagleman, in the book Sum: Forty Tales from the Afterlives says, “There are three deaths. The first is when the body ceases to function. The second is when the body is consigned to the grave. The third is that moment, sometime in the future, when your name is spoken for the last time.” Uzma died 4 days ago. Today we consign her to her second death and mourn again. But I am confident that through her writing and by becoming the world’s Uzma, the third death will be a long time coming, perhaps even after most of us gathered here today are long gone. Therefore, I say, let’s continue to celebrate our Uzma after we have mourned her today.”
Uzma Yunus, MD, the creator of this blog and my beloved wife of 17 years, breathed her last on Wednesday, January 30, 2019. She was laid to rest on February 3, 2019 at Memorial Park Cemetery following a wake and memorial service made beautiful by the love of friends, family members and many fans of her writing who attended.
Uzma wanted this blog to continue and had added me, her husband, Dheeraj Raina, MD as an admin/author. It will take some time to figure out how this blog will be continued. In the meantime, please order, read, review and recommend her book Left Boob Gone Rogue, published a couple of months ago and available on Amazon.
