The doctor’s tranquil, confident bedside manner is apparent at a booth in a restaurant. Dean Tsarwhas, MD, has an easy smile, every hair in place, a runner’s trim build. He orders coffee and oatmeal (with blueberries and blackberries) and an English muffin at Egg Harbor Café in Lake Forest, his hometown since 2001.
The tone of his order puts the waitress at ease. He makes eye contact with the employee, nods, returns the menu. His order puts his booth companion at ease as well. Dr. Tsarwhas listens to a question. His resting-heart-rate demeanor is part placid, part welcoming. If there ever comes a time when a doctor has to inform you of a cancer diagnosis, you would want to hear it from Tsarwhas.
“The hardest part of my day,” Tsarwhas, 52, says of revealing such news to a patient. “As soon as I walk into the room, the patient is looking for clues from me, clues to what I am about to say. One of the first things I ask, after telling the patient, is, ‘Who is on your team?’ You have to have a team in place to support you every step of the way. That team could be the family or other loved ones or friends, or everybody in that person’s life.”
Tsarwhas’ team is based at Northwestern Medicine’s Lake Forest Hospital. He was named captain of one of the hospital’s groups in January, or Medical Director of Cancer Services at the hospital and Grayslake Outpatient Center. His specific teammates are surgeons, radiation doctors, nurse navigators, social workers, dieticians, hospital administrators. Northwestern Medicine’s Lake Forest Hospital also provides its patients a pathway to research and clinical trials conducted in Chicago.
“It’s important to stay up with up-to-date findings in oncology, to stay connected with our Northwestern Medicine colleagues in Chicago,” Tsarwhas says. “We use a strong multidisciplinary approach. I am excited about the hospital, about what’s going on there, about its growth and connection to Northwestern Medicine. There’s nothing like it, Northwestern Medicine aligning with a community hospital, sharing resources, integrating. Lake Forest Hospital is an asset in Lake Forest … along the whole North Shore, really.
“The people in this area are medically sophisticated,” he adds. “People here want the best care, and they’re getting it.”
Tsarwhas grew up in Canton, Ohio, a punt, pass and kick away from that town’s Pro Football Hall of Fame. The future doctor, a son of a kindergarten teacher mom and a school administrator dad, wanted to be a crack debater at GlenOak High School, not a crack defensive back. Tsarwhas tackled assignments and aced classes, paving his way to admission at Northeastern Ohio University and a medical degree. He completed his residency at the University of Michigan and attained fellowship status at the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute at Harvard Medical School.
Tsarwhas met a woman, Amy, on a blind date in Michigan. Amy worked for Chrysler at the time. Tsarwhas is Greek. Amy is Greek. Eerily, several years before the two had met, Amy’s mother, Christine, read about the success of a man named Dean Tsarwhas in a 1987 edition of the Orthodox Observer, a newspaper. Christine cut the article out and placed it in a jar.
“Amy,” Dr. Tsarwhas recalls, “called her mom up and said, ‘Hey, I’m going on a blind date tonight.’ Later in the conversation, her mom said, “I know what he looks like.’ ”
Dean and Amy got married in 1991. They lived in Libertyville for eight years before moving to Lake Forest 15 years ago. They have three children, ranging in age from 18 to 23.
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“My wife gives me balance, keeps me grounded,” Dr. Tsarwhas says. “I have more administrative duties now [because of his new position], but I still see patients. The number of hours I work … they’re long, yes. I get calls from patients on the weekend, from doctors. This field can be consuming. It’s also a calling. You have to love it, and I do. Every day I see strength and courage from my cancer patients. I see optimism and resiliency.”
One of his patients had Stage 4 cancer. The patient ran in the Chicago Marathon one year and decided to run in it nine more times. The patient ran in the Boston Marathon three times. The patient is alive today, still refusing to exit life’s stage. Tsarwhas was in a restaurant when he recognized another former patient of his, a Hodgkin’s lymphoma survivor. The survivor is now the father of a couple of kids.
“I form strong relationships with my patients,” Tsarwhas says. “Many of my patients are friends for life. I think often of what my patients are going through, like a mother in her 30s with breast cancer, with young kids. I think of what she’s doing to be there for her kids, of how she’s rallying each day. I am in awe of her.”
A year ago he spent two weeks at the largest referral hospital in Uganda, teaching student residents and representing the American Society of Hematology. The hospital contains 1,500 beds. Some 3,000 patients had been admitted to the same hospital when Tsarwhas arrived. How big was the shoehorn that was used to pull off that feat?
“The worst hospital in the United States would be the best hospital in Uganda,” Tsarwhas, also the vice chief of the Lake Forest Hospital medical staff and a faculty member of the Northwestern University Feinberg School of Medicine, says. “There is such a disparity in resources. It made me appreciate what we have here. It was an unbelievable experience, spending time over there, seeing the challenges that country faces in patient care. The students there impressed me. They’re bright and eager, willing to learn.”
The students asked questions. The students got answers. Tsarwhas, stateside, occasionally fields a question that has nothing to do with diagnoses or treatments. And everything to do with his state of mind. The question: Do you get depressed doing what you do?
“I don’t,” Tsarwhas says. “It’s a privilege to come to work every day and help my patients live the longest and best life possible. The people I see, my patients, inspire me. I get inspired every day.”