Chemotherapy kills cancer, but who heals the soul?

Along with physical treatment, we need to make mental healthcare a priority, too.

- Akhil Chopra, Teng Jia Ying and Rubeena Chopra

At 42, Mr X, a devoted husband and father of two young children—didn't smoke, barely drank, exercised regularly and had no family history of cancer. When he developed a niggling lower back pain that would not go away, he finally agreed to see a doctor. After scans, blood tests and a biopsy, came the shocking diagnosis: stage 4 cancer. Rare, aggressive, and widespread.

As I (Akhil Chopra) prepared to meet him and his wife for the first time in my clinic, even as a doctor with years of experience, I felt this quiet dread. How could I explain that someone like him had an advanced terminal illness? The cancer had already eaten into his bones and invaded his vital organs.

He listened carefully as I walked through the diagnosis and treatment options. When I finished, he said: "I'll do whatever it takes. Just tell me what to do."

Over the next two years, through multiple cycles of chemotherapy, side effects, setbacks, and moments of hope, he never stopped trying. Even on his worst days, he found ways to joke with nurses, lift the mood in the room. He was always more concerned about how his wife was coping.

I asked how he stayed so strong. "Because of them," he said, nodding to a photo of his children. "I want to give them more time with their dad."

Mr X added: "I cry at night. When they're asleep. That's when I let it out. I talk to God. I ask why this had to happen. I think about all the things I'll miss." He wasn't trying to be brave for the sake of appearances. He was living with unimaginable fear and pain—but carrying it quietly, for the people he loved.

A cancer diagnosis can be the beginning of a devastating and traumatic journey for any person. Yet, the focus is on the physical consequences. The emotional and psychological wounds, though invisible, can be equally profound, exhausting and debilitating.