A Conversation With Deanna Gerber, M.D., Assistant Professor of Obstetrics and Gynecology in the Division of Gynecologic Oncology at Weill Cornell Medicine

Deanna Gerber, M.D.

As a healthy, 36-year-old gynecological oncologist, Deanna Gerber, M.D. never saw her cancer diagnosis coming. However, in January 2021, she was diagnosed with triple-negative breast cancer.

Breast cancer is the most common cancer in women worldwide. In the United States, a woman has a 1 in 8 chance she will be diagnosed during her lifetime. Between 10% and 20% of cases are considered triple-negative breast cancer. Triple-negative breast cancer cells lack receptors for estrogen, progesterone and human epidermal growth factor receptor 2, making them less responsive to hormonal therapies and more aggressive.

After her diagnosis, Gerber froze her eggs and underwent a double mastectomy, 20 weeks of chemotherapy and six weeks of radiation.

Today, she is in remission and is using the lessons she learned during her cancer journey to become an advocate for her patients.

Geber recently sat down with Managed Healthcare Executive to discuss her challenging yet transformative cancer journey.

As an oncologist, what was it like receiving a cancer diagnosis?

I felt like I was in purgatory, because I know so much about cancer, but I also don't treat breast cancer. I felt like I knew too much for my own good, but I didn't know enough to soothe myself. It was an intense period that shook me to my core.

Such a formative part of my oncology training, unfortunately, did come from having cancer myself. The biggest way I honor that experience is by sharing it with other oncologists so that they can understand it from the other perspective.

In the United States, in Western medicine, we go to traditional medical school, and we learn the science, and the science is focused on, for the most part, survival. We as oncologists are thinking about how to cure the cancer, which is important, but just as important are the mental changes that occur with a cancer diagnosis. The loss of control, the loss of a sense of identity, losing your fertility with chemo or radiation.

I was a 36-year-old woman. Every single hair on my body fell out from chemo. I had my breasts amputated. Everything that society thinks a woman should be—fertile, curvy, beautiful, with lush hair—I had none of that. I was stripped of my outward appearance, which I didn't realize would affect me so much.

Were you still practicing medicine during treatment?

As a gynecologic oncologist, I do surgery, and I see patients in the office. I stopped doing surgery during chemo, but I was still seeing patients in the office on certain days, so I'd have time to recover from chemo. After a mastectomy and lymph node dissection, you lose a lot of upper body mobility, so I couldn't do surgery for a few months. Now, I'm back, strong and fully capable.

How has your cancer diagnosis shaped your role as a physician?

It changed everything about me from day one, when I had a mammogram that was abnormal and was told something was likely bad. That shifted the way I manage my patients’ anxieties and how I approach the gray area where you don't know what's going on yet.

I remember getting an MRI early on, and I'd never had an MRI before, but I recommend them for patients all the time. When I was in the MRI machine, I was like, ‘this is not a light thing to recommend.’

Going through cancer care, seeing great bedside manner from certain doctors, and seeing some people handle it poorly also changed the way I approach my patients.

What are your biggest pieces of advice for current cancer patients?

Know your body and trust your instincts. If you don't like what your doctor's telling you, if you don't feel like you got the answers you need, go find them. Also, know your family history.

I felt like I hit rock bottom. I had a traumatic experience, and I grew from it emotionally, but I'm grateful for what happened to me. Having cancer forced me to find my purpose and find my boundaries. Not everyone is going to have that experience. Cancer just can suck; it doesn't have to transform you in any positive way, but if you're open to it, it could.