By Dr. Sperling

One of the most satisfying and enjoyable aspects of my profession is making presentations to patient support groups. When I first began speaking to groups such as the American Cancer Society’s Man to Man program, or Us Too International, I saw it as a way of informing men about expanded diagnostic and treatment options for those concerned about their prostate health.

In fact, the word “doctor” comes from the Latin word docere, meaning to teach. For centuries, the title “Doctor” has been given to university professors with advanced degrees. While I am a medical doctor, not a university professor, I feel I have a responsibility to contribute to men (and the wives and partners and families who care about them) by making teaching a part of my work.

But as every teacher must inevitably discover, to teach is to learn. Each time I speak to a group, members come up to me afterward and share what’s on their minds and in their hearts. The tables are turned in a most wonderful way, as I learn what matters to them.

How does this affect my medical practice? I believe it becomes a constant reminder of how I would want to be treated if I were worried that I had cancer. I ask myself, what would I be scared of? What kind of reassurance would I need? What would I suddenly realize about what’s truly important in life? What would I need to hear from my doctor?

Certainly, I would hope for compassion and a sense that I matter as an individual, not just another “interesting case.” I would also hope for as much information as possible, knowing that knowledge is power. The more I could learn about the physical problem facing me, the more choice and control I would experience.

I am very fortunate to be in a helping profession. In a very real sense, I see such speaking engagements as a chance to do payback for all I’ve been given. I remember hearing, when I was quite young, that to give is to receive. As a boy, I couldn’t quite figure that out (Who doesn’t feel great about getting birthday presents, and how is that “giving” to my parents?) but today I know it’s true. When I meet with patient groups to give information, I receive the trust of each participant who opens his heart to me.

Thus, I have discovered that there are two levels at which patient education is so very important. The first, obviously, is to acquaint men and their families with information they might otherwise not know existed. The second is to educate myself about the needs of my patients, so I’m better able to meet them at every level-not just their physical needs, but the need to live the life that matters to each one.