A total of 265 medical discussions were recorded across the illness course for 33 patient-parent dyads, comprising more than 4,000 minutes of recorded dialogue. Data on patient-parent dyads who declined enrollment in U-CHAT were previously published;6,25 briefly, 17% of approached dyads (n = 7 dyads) did not enroll due to hesitation or refusal by the patient (n = 3), parent (n = 3), or both (n = 1). Refusal rates did not appear to disproportionately exclude dyads based on race or ethnicity,6,25 although small numbers precluded formal scrutiny.
More than half of participating dyads experienced one or more equivocal disease reevaluation timepoints during the study period (17/33, 51.5%); of these, about half (9/17) had more than one equivocal discussion (mean 3.6 equivocal discussions per dyad, range 2–9). Approximately 15% of recorded conversations (40/265) and 12.5% of total dialogue time (510/4050 minutes) took place at timepoints with equivocal disease reevaluation findings. All participating oncologists (n = 6) presented equivocal findings to patients and families in at least one disease reevaluation discussion.
Of the dyads involved in equivocal discussions, most were white (15/17, 88.2%), and gender was roughly equivalently divided; full participant demographic variables are presented in Table 2. No participants formally dropped out of the study, although one dyad transferred care to another institution prior to death. Most equivocal discussions (34/40, 85%) were followed by disease progression within the 24-month study duration. Among the 17 dyads who experienced at least one equivocal discussion, 13 patients had disease progression, and at the time of publication of this paper, all 13 had died.
Frequency of prognostic communication in equivocal disease reevaluation discussions
Frequencies and time duration of dialogue coded as prognostic communication (prognostic uncertainty, assessing prognostic understanding, disease changing for the worse, best- and worst-case scenarios, survival time, curability) are presented in Table 3, with representative quotes for each code presented in Table 4. Prognostic communication codes were applied 80 times across 40 equivocal discussions (median 1 code per recorded conversation, range 0–13), totaling < 14 minutes of prognosis discussion over 510 minutes of total dialogue time, or 2.9% of total minutes of recorded conversation. The most dominant codes identified were “prognostic uncertainty” and “disease changing for the worse,” even as oncologists labeled conversations “equivocal news” rather than “bad news.” Most dialogue coded as “disease changing for the worse” described specific disease reevaluation findings consistent with minimal disease progression within a “big picture” setting that was described as unclear or equivocal.
Table 3
Descriptive statistics for prognostic communication codes in equivocal discussions
Code Name | Code Frequency | Code Time |
No. of codes across all equivocal recordings | Median (range) of codes per recording | No. (%) recordings including at least 1 code | Total time of coded dialogue across all recordings | Median (range) of time coded per recording | % of coded time (time for each code per total prognostic communication time) | Coverage (time for each code per total dialogue time) |
Prognostic uncertainty | 35 | 0 (0–6) | 19/40 (47.5%) | 6 min 23 sec | 0 sec (0 sec-2 min 2 sec) | ~ 46% | 1.3% |
Disease changing for the worse | 35 | 0 (0–5) | 17/40 (42.5%) | 5 min 48 sec | 0 sec (0–47 sec) | ~ 42% | 1.1% |
Best- and worst-case scenarios | 4 | 0 (0–1) | 4/40 (10%) | 54 sec | 0 sec (0-18.5 sec) | ~ 6% | 0.2% |
Assessing prognostic understanding | 4 | 0 (0–3) | 2/40 (5%) | 16 sec | 0 sec (0-8.8 sec) | ~ 2% | 0.1% |
Curability | 2 | 0 (0–1) | 2/40 (5%) | 46 sec | 0 sec (0-33.9 sec) | ~ 5% | 0.2% |
Survival time | 0 | 0 (0) | 0/40 (0%) | 0 sec | 0 sec (0 sec) | 0% | 0% |
Total | 80 | 1 (0–13) | 23/40 (57.5%) | 13 min 45 sec | 0 sec (0 sec-2 min 36 sec) | 100.0% | 2.9% |
Total recorded time: 8 hours, 29 minutes, 45 sec |
Table 4
Representative quotes for prognostic communication codes
Code | Example language coded |
Prognostic uncertainty | • “The bone marrow looked a little bit different - but it didn't really look different on PET scan, so I don't know what to make of that at all.” • “These little things, I’m not even sure what they are. I’ll show you the pictures. Um, they definitely don’t light up at all, but they are so tiny and the radiologist doesn’t even know what to say about them either.” • “It looks [like] maybe a collection of fluid kind of along the spinal canal in that lower part, we aren't entirely sure what that is, or why it's there but it doesn't really look like tumor either, so we are not entirely sure what to make of that other than we know that you’re doing well.” • “Some places that we worry that it might be getting worse - but nothing that I can say for sure.” |
Disease changing for the worse | • “Remember this? Last time there was maybe this new little thing on the other side. That is there and maybe looks a teensy bit bigger. Okay? There are no other new spots in the lungs, and that being said, I'm talking like a millimeter or so bigger - but definitely a little bit bigger.” • “One of those areas has turned dark…which looks exactly like the original tumor when it came back, so that's why I want to do a PET.” |
Best- and worst-case scenarios | • “We can hope it's an infection that obviously isn't bothering her, but I'm very worried that it could the cancer.” • “Again, I wish I could walk in and say, hey everything disappeared, that would be the best news, so I don't have that news, but the worse news would be that things are worse and that is definitely not the case |
Curability | • Clear: “This is getting better. Is this medicine going to cure her? The answer is very likely not. We know that. But it's giving her very, very good quality of life, with relatively little interruptions.” • Cloudy: “Our first worry is God forbid this is awful thing comes back, and if it comes back this early we're in big trouble. You know after all the treatment he's had, you know.” |
Assessing prognostic understanding | • “Ask me more questions because you don't sound satisfied. You just said ‘ok,’ but you need to talk to me a little more.” • “Does that make sense? Are we sure?” |
Survival time | No codes |
Prognostic communication dialogue was present in just over half of recorded equivocal discussions (23/40, 57.5%), and when codes were analyzed individually, each code was found in < 50% of recordings: “prognostic uncertainty” 47.5% (19/40), “disease changing for the worse” 42.5% (17/40), and “assessing prognostic understanding” 5% (2/40). Fewer than 10% of recorded equivocal conversations included dialogue addressing whether the cancer could be cured: “best- and worst-case scenarios” was identified in 10% of conversations (4/40), “curability” in 5% (2/40), and no discussions included “survival time” codes. Across all equivocal discussions, the “curability” code was applied a total of twice and the “assessing prognostic understanding” applied a total of four times. When the latter code was applied, the depth and focus with which prognostic understanding was explored was limited (Table 4), representing a cursory assessment of patients’ and families’ awareness of prognosis.
Oncologist communication patterns in settings of uncertainty
Inductive content analysis of prognostic communication dialogue revealed four thematic patterns for how oncologists shared prognostic information when disease reevaluation findings were worrisome yet lacked evidence of frank disease progression (Table 5).
Table 5
Patterns of prognostic communication in equivocal discussions
Pattern | Characterization | Example |
Up-front reassurance | Opening the conversation and/or repeatedly stating that the patient is doing well or okay despite equivocal results | • “We have good news.” • “I don't think [this is disease]. Very likely, it is not.” |
Softening the message | Use of modifiers to soften the message about possible disease progression | • “Let me tell you what I found, I don't want you to start freaking out…everything looks pretty stable on the PET scan, ok there is a very, very, very, tiny, small area on the left femur and a very small area on the right knee, in retrospect I think they were there before, so I am not very worried about them.” • “It's not changing by leaps and bounds; it's changing very slowly over time. It’s gotten just a little incrementally slightly bigger since the last time we looked at it.” |
Describing possible disease progression without interpretation | Detailed description of disease reevaluation findings (i.e., imaging) without connection to prognosis | • Worsened imaging: “The stuff in her lungs is worse.” • Stable/improved imaging: “Chest looks great. You still have on the one side that nodule; it is definitely not bigger, so that is good. And there are no new spots anywhere in your chest.” • Uncertain change in imaging: “I mean there's one little spot that he had when he came in around the second rib. That we've been watching, and that's getting better every time. The rest of it in the whole area [on] the MRI shows these abnormalities that could be tumor if you just look at that in isolation.” |
Expressing uncertainty without context | Direct statements of uncertainty without statements of concern about disease progression | • “The bone marrow looked a little bit different [on MRI], but it didn't really look different on PET scan, so I don't know what to make of that at all.” • “[In] some places we worry that it might be getting worse - but nothing that I can say for sure.” |
Up-front reassurance: Although oncologists categorized these discussions as “equivocal” to the research team, when talking with patients and families, they often led with reassurance about the uncertain findings. For example, oncologists frequently opened conversations with a positive statement to offer relief for the waiting family:
“So, everything looks stable on scans, okay. I don’t have the bone marrow test back, but his [labs] are normal. So, I think everything’s where we were a month ago in terms of scans.”
One oncologist opened the conversation with “good” news despite privately classifying the findings as “equivocal”: “So, I know you just want to hear about scans, so we are going to start talking about that first. Everything is stable, and there is nothing new. So, that’s good.” That oncologist went on to relativize the positive framing as good but not “the best”:
I wish that I could say – I mean, the best thing would be if I came in and said everything is gone. So, I don’t want to pretend like that wouldn’t be the best news – that would be the best news.
Softening the message: While conveying equivocal findings, oncologists softened the message of possible disease progression by using minimizing modifiers to downgrade worry. For example, one oncologist said:
The CT of the chest shows a very, very small little nodule which is about 2 mm on the left lung. That maybe just a little blood vessel within the lungs…so what we need to do is just follow that.
Oncologists also used emphatic language (“they definitely don’t” and “so tiny”) to minimize the weight of uncertain data:
These little things, I’m not even sure what they are. I’ll show you the pictures – they definitely don’t light up at all, but they are so tiny, and the radiologist doesn’t even know what to say about them either.
Describing possible disease progression without interpretation: Many oncologists described disease reevaluation findings (e.g., laboratory tests, imaging, pathology, etc.) in detail but did not interpret how the findings may impact prognosis and curability. For example, oncologists pointed out new lesions (“So there is one little spot in your clavicle, which is a fancy word for your collar bone, that is bright…”) or increases in lesion size (“The one over here is a little bit more elongated than it was before but not by a huge extent”) often without connecting these findings to the bigger picture or explaining what the lesions could mean for the patient’s future life.
Expressing uncertainty without context: Oncologists offered statements of uncertainty without expressing concerns about the possibility of disease progression or anchoring the moment of uncertainty in the context of a prior high-risk diagnosis. In this approach, language like “I just don’t know” or “I just can’t know” were often used. At times, oncologists expressed their hesitation frankly: “I certainly don't feel 100% confident, like, I don't want to say this is [disease] because I don't know that.” Similarly, another oncologist used the phrase “not entirely sure” repeatedly in interpreting findings:
It looks maybe a collection of fluid…We aren't entirely sure what that is or why it's there, but it doesn't really look like tumor either, so we are not entirely sure what to make of that other than we know that you’re doing well.
Co-occurrence of patterns: The “describing possible disease progression without interpretation” pattern frequently occurred concurrently with “softening the message” or “expressing uncertainty without context” patterns. Specifically, when oncologists focused on describing findings in detail, they used modifiers to minimize concern or emphasized inability to confirm bad news:
That's the one we have been following, and when we look at that one…the difference is a couple of millimeters. Um, so it's not - I can't say that it has decreased in size, but it has not gotten bigger to a degree that I could say that this is clearly, you know, something that is blowing up and progressing.
While oncologists rarely voiced concerns about disease progression during recorded equivocal discussions, data from surveys and interviews showed that oncologists generally believed that their patients’ disease would progress and likely be incurable for most patients. Specifically, all 6 participating oncologists completed surveys and interviews following disease progression for all 13 patients who progressed while on study; for each of these patients, the oncologist estimated odds of cure to be very low or zero. In response the question: “How likely do you think it is that your patient/child will be cured of cancer?,” oncologists offered a range of similar responses: “Nearly impossible, but we can hope;” “I do not think she will be cured unfortunately;” “I would still say less than 10%, but we would always love to be proven wrong;” and “I do not think she'll be cured…less than 5%.” One oncologist explored the complexity of interpreting disease reevaluation data and the challenge of sampling error when responding to this question:
Zero, nothing. We barely got her to transplant…She never cleared her marrow, and the last marrow, by a miracle, it came back negative. I think it was just sampling error. I think there was always disease there.
Another oncologist alluded to the inevitability of disease spread even without visible evidence on imaging:
I think it’s unlikely he’ll have long-term cure. I think he might have a period of disease- free, as best we can tell in terms of pictures. Obviously, you know, if he has disease in his lungs, he probably has micro-mets that we can’t see…