The Quilt

The Quilt

In my career as a physician, there have been many patients that left a lasting impression on me. There is one that I will never forget. Here is her story.

It was many years ago, and I had just started my first job as an Attending Physician in a small town. One of my earliest patients in those days was a very pleasant lady in her sixties. She was a breast cancer survivor. As part of the treatment for this, she had undergone a mastectomy, followed by chemotherapy and radiation therapy. Just as her cancer went into remission, her husband died. She had never had any children, and continued to live alone in the small town that had been her home all her life.

The first time she saw me, I was a young doctor fresh out of residency. She had been widowed for about a year at that time. I remember her being excited that her hair had grown back after she had lost it due to the cancer treatment. She had been married for about forty years before her husband died. She missed him dearly, but the thing I remember most about her was her positive outlook. She always had a smile on her face.

I developed a great relationship with her. Her visits would often be extended beyond our allotted time as we talked about local traditions in the Southern United States. I have always been fascinated with the ‘South’ ever since I read ‘Gone with The Wind’ as a young student in Africa. Her family had lived in that small Southern town for many generations. She knew everything about Southern culture and traditions.

One day, she came to see me and told me that she felt a lump at her mastectomy site. Concerned, I quickly examined her. It was a small round nodule at the site of her surgery. I had a sinking feeling that the cancer could be coming back. I did my best to sound reassuring, and ordered a CAT scan on her.

The scan confirmed my worst fears. The cancer had come back. I braced myself and called her with the news. She responded very calmly and asked me what we needed to do. I quickly referred her back to her cancer doctors. They resumed her chemotherapy and radiation therapy. Unfortunately, this time, the cancer did not respond to the treatment. Eventually a decision was made that further treatment was futile.

She then came to see me. She had lost her hair again with all her recent treatment and was wearing a hat. She looked me in the eyes and said that she had a request. It was to please make sure she does not suffer. I will admit that this was a very difficult conversation for me. People often think that doctors see these things all the time, and it should be routine. It is not. I was visibly shaken.

She saw that I was upset, and then she is the one who tried to comfort me. She said that she was looking forward to re-uniting with her husband. She had led a good life, and had no regrets. I promised her then that I will do everything to always keep her comfortable. She smiled and patted my hand. She said that she is going to get me a present. I protested, that getting presents should be the last thing on her mind at this time. She just smiled.

A few weeks later, she came to see me with a large bag. What is this, I asked? It is a quilt for you she said. I made it myself. You made a quilt for me I asked in amazement? It is a tradition in the South she said. Quilts are works of art and are often passed down from one generation to the next. They are created by sewing two layers of fabric together with an interior padding.

Her quilt was an impressive collection of small squares of multi colored fabric neatly stitched together in a pattern. She had made this by hand herself. It was beautiful.

I cannot take this, you do not need to do this, I protested. She smiled at me and said, I know. I just want you to have something to remember me by. And so, I kept the quilt.

A few weeks later, my patient fell ill and I admitted her to the hospital. I took care of her in her last days and did my best to make sure her transition was as comfortable as possible. She died peacefully. I hope she remains at peace and is back with her husband.

The quilt has remained with me everywhere I have moved. It remains one of my most prized possessions.