“I Am Not That Special”
It was a Saturday morning in February in Chicago. Winter was at its peak. My wife Uzma’s phone rang. The caller ID showed it was her oncologist.
Our hearts sank. Uzma had a CT scan the day before. If the oncologist was calling on Saturday morning, it could only be bad news.
Her breast cancer had returned less than two years after completing the full course of surgery, chemo, and radiation. It had spread to her liver.
A few weeks later, her aunt came to visit. They hugged and wept. Her aunt cried out, “Why? Why did this have to happen to you?”
Uzma answered, calmly but firmly, “Why not me? More than 100 American women die of breast cancer every day. I’m not that special.”
She knew the odds. She had read the research. Once breast cancer spreads to the liver, about 50% of patients die within three years. I later learned that Uzma had quietly told my father she believed she had at most three years left. She died just short of the third anniversary of her cancer’s return.
But here’s the thing: if you think her clear-eyed realism made her give up, you would be wrong.
She lived with urgency and joy.
She tried new things.
She blogged and wrote a book.
She supported others through advocacy.
She cut out toxic relationships, strengthened old ones, and made new friends. Think about that last part for a moment. She made new friends while believing in her heart that she had little time.
She modeled in a commercial for cancer awareness.
She laughed out loud with our kids.
And through every new treatment—no matter the side effects—she kept going until the doctor said it was no longer working.
She lived those years with remarkable realism and boundless hope.
What I Learned About Hope
Uzma knew her time was limited, but she poured herself into people, projects, and purpose. Looking at her pictures from those final years, you can tell that her body was gradually giving up. But you couldn’t tell from the energy she was putting out in the world.
When she realized that she would not have the time to pursue the traditional publishing route for her book, Left Boob Gone Rogue — writing a book proposal, finding an agent, and so on — she decided to self-publish it. It meant her book would not reach as broad an audience.
But it also meant that she got to hold a printed copy and read reviews before she died. It has 4.9 stars!
Hope is not pretending things aren’t hard. As we saw in a previous post, hope is not blind optimism. It is optimism paired with action.
As leaders—especially in healthcare—we often fall back on the tools we’re most used to:
Telling people what to do.
Giving a lecture.
Showing a slide deck.
Those are tools for informing and persuading through logic and rational thinking.
Conveying hope requires something else. Hope requires inspiration.
Why We Struggle To Inspire Hope
So how do we inspire hope in others? Can we inspire hope simply by the way we live our lives?
Yes. I believe that Uzma inspired hope in others through her life in those final years.
But when you are a leader, that’s not enough. A leader must live and breathe hope and inspire it in others through well-chosen words and deliberate acts.
Many leaders who are hopeful, optimistic, and action-oriented often struggle to convey their hope to others.
Why?
Whether you are a clinician or not, if you are a leader in healthcare, you are almost certainly college-educated. Our college education teaches us to think critically and persuade others through logic. It does not teach us how to inspire.
Inspiration doesn’t happen in the brain. It takes root in the heart.
Tips For Inspiring Hope
I will write more about improving our communication, but the essence of conveying hope lies in these principles:
Tell stories, not just facts.
Facts inform, but stories move hearts. Maya Angelou put it best: “People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” Share stories of resilience, healing, and small victories.
Balance realism with possibility.
When everyone is feeling beaten down, share where they still have agency. While it can happen, we rarely find ourselves in a circumstance where we have no agency over any part of our lives. The existence of trade-offs we wish weren’t there is not the same as a lack of agency.
Model it yourself.
Hope is contagious. When people see you face difficulties with courage and clarity, they take courage themselves. Uzma showed this every day—living fully while living with cancer.
Edit, refine, and practice.
Inspiring communication doesn’t happen by accident. Great leaders cut through clutter, sharpen their message, and refine their delivery. Hope deserves that level of care.
I learned from Uzma that hope is not a luxury. Hope is the only way to live, even when life itself is fragile.
For leaders, inspiring hope in others is the only way to draw others to shared purpose.
Without the ability and desire to inspire others, we are only managers, not leaders.




[…] my last post, I argued that leaders cannot simply be hopeful. They must learn how to inspire hope in others. […]
[…] you’ve followed this blog, you know I believe that inspiring hope is a leader’s most important job. Those who can’t inspire hope may manage, but they never truly […]