In the fast-paced, high-stakes world of surgery, it’s easy to become singularly focused on curing disease or achieving technical excellence. But all of us who have walked alongside patients facing life-limiting illness know that there is another kind of skill—quieter, but no less vital—that defines excellent surgical care: the ability to meet patients where they are, honor their values, and support them through the complexity of serious illness and the consideration of surgical intervention.
This is the heart of surgical palliative care.
As a surgical oncologist, I often care for patients navigating uncertainty, high-stakes decisions, and the limits of curative treatment. I’ve learned that technical success is only one part of the equation. Patients and families need honesty, empathy, and a surgeon who cares for the whole patient—not just the problem at hand. Advanced clinical training in palliative care gave me a language and framework to do this better—and has deeply shaped the way I approach both patient care and academic inquiry. It has heavily influenced my research interests, which center on communication, decision-making, and the lived experiences of patients facing serious illness.
Dr. Geoffrey Dunn was a pioneer in this space, and the Geoffrey Dunn, MD Research Award in Surgical Palliative Care honors his legacy by supporting early-career investigators committed to advancing the field. This award is more than a grant—it’s a signal that surgical palliative care belongs in our academic and clinical missions. It affirms that research focused on patient-centered outcomes, quality of life, communication, and serious illness care matters.
Equally important is the role of mentorship. Many of us were fortunate to be mentored by people who helped us ask not just how to operate, but why. Mentors in surgical palliative care create space for nuanced conversations, emotional growth, and thoughtful career development—especially in a field that sometimes struggles to value non-procedural contributions. This award not only supports research but fosters a culture of mentorship and community.
I encourage trainees, junior faculty, and anyone doing work at the intersection of surgery and palliative care to apply. And I invite all of us—especially those of us who’ve benefitted from this kind of mentorship—to give back by donating to support the award’s future. Your contribution helps amplify a vision of surgery that is not only technically excellent but profoundly humane.
Learn more about the award here and consider making a donation here.
Let’s keep this important work—and Dr. Dunn’s legacy—thriving.
Kimberly Kopecky
My Father’s Hands