215. Life in a Doodle - Paul Broomberg
The act of committing each event as a graphic image was so important in the psychological healing that came after the medical healing.
I’ve always been more comfortable drawing than writing. My meeting notes are filled with doodles, and for milestone birthdays, I often illustrate shared experiences for family members. When in early 2020, I entered the hospital for cancer treatment (like Suleika, I was diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia), I realized I wanted to represent that journey in a doodle as well.
I soon began making a list of everything I wanted to include—the X-Ray Man logo where my central line went in, or the bizarre image of a needle being inserted into my spinal column for intrathecal chemo. I wanted to include the good things (the incredible doctors and nurses and the amazing circle of support and love that formed around me and my family), as well as the tough ones (the dreaded “Red Devil” chemo, the ICU, and the multiple medical complications).
When I was finally allowed to go home from the hospital, I took out the drawing pad and started with a “BLAST” in the pop art style of Roy Lichtenstein. (Blasts are the signature cells of leukemia that fill up the bone marrow, preventing normal blood production). From there it was a process of finding images to represent everything I’d gone through—from my children’s childhood stuffed toys that they (then as adults) offered to me for comfort, to the 56 medicine cups that represent each day of my initial stay in hospital. I also wanted to ensure I had a place on the page to celebrate everyone who had supported me with boundless energy and love.
That last bit is what really pushed me to complete the drawing: the idea that I could give copies to everyone who had been a part of my experience. In this small way, I could show my gratitude to each of the amazing medical and support team and to friends and family who gave so much of themselves—because without them, I don’t know how I would have survived.
It’s been over two years since my remission, but I still look at the doodle often. I realize now that doodling was a way for me to process the experience. The act of committing each event as a graphic image was so important in the psychological healing that came after the medical healing. The joy now is to have the full arc of the journey represented on a single page, which allows me to deal with the memories in a gentle and positive way.
- Paul Broomberg
