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I have just returned from the Oncology Practice Summit, the annual conference for practice-based oncologists and midlevels, which was hosted by COMMUNITY ONCOLOGY and its sister publications, THE JOURNAL OF SUPPORTIVE ONCOLOGY (JSO) and THE ONCOLOGY REPORT, in Las Vegas. During my flight to the conference, I noticed that there was a certain buzz among the passengers, which I naturally assumed was about our oncology meeting. But as I looked around, I realized that not only was I the only passenger who was wearing a tie, I was also the only one who had knocked back less than one drink. The frenzy was about the first weekend of the NCAA’s March Madness, and the pervasive enthusiasm among the passengers revolved around the wellknown “science” of bracketology, in which basketball enthusiasts take all 64 teams in the tournament and try to predict which team will win each match as the teams work their way down to the Final Four and ultimately, to the winner. President Obama had already said that his pick was Indiana (we know now how that turned out — sorry Indiana), but the amateur handicappers on the plane were still sifting through the teams’ records and the coaches’ and individual players’ strengths and weakness to bet (upon their arrival in Las Vegas) on which team would ultimately prevail. Once in Las Vegas, we managed to have our conference despite the March Madness mayhem, and in the course of the meeting, the term bracketology took on an oncology-tinged relevance for me. Bear with me.
I have just returned from the Oncology Practice Summit, the annual conference for practice-based oncologists and midlevels, which was hosted by COMMUNITY ONCOLOGY and its sister publications, THE JOURNAL OF SUPPORTIVE ONCOLOGY (JSO) and THE ONCOLOGY REPORT, in Las Vegas. During my flight to the conference, I noticed that there was a certain buzz among the passengers, which I naturally assumed was about our oncology meeting. But as I looked around, I realized that not only was I the only passenger who was wearing a tie, I was also the only one who had knocked back less than one drink. The frenzy was about the first weekend of the NCAA’s March Madness, and the pervasive enthusiasm among the passengers revolved around the wellknown “science” of bracketology, in which basketball enthusiasts take all 64 teams in the tournament and try to predict which team will win each match as the teams work their way down to the Final Four and ultimately, to the winner. President Obama had already said that his pick was Indiana (we know now how that turned out — sorry Indiana), but the amateur handicappers on the plane were still sifting through the teams’ records and the coaches’ and individual players’ strengths and weakness to bet (upon their arrival in Las Vegas) on which team would ultimately prevail. Once in Las Vegas, we managed to have our conference despite the March Madness mayhem, and in the course of the meeting, the term bracketology took on an oncology-tinged relevance for me. Bear with me.
I have just returned from the Oncology Practice Summit, the annual conference for practice-based oncologists and midlevels, which was hosted by COMMUNITY ONCOLOGY and its sister publications, THE JOURNAL OF SUPPORTIVE ONCOLOGY (JSO) and THE ONCOLOGY REPORT, in Las Vegas. During my flight to the conference, I noticed that there was a certain buzz among the passengers, which I naturally assumed was about our oncology meeting. But as I looked around, I realized that not only was I the only passenger who was wearing a tie, I was also the only one who had knocked back less than one drink. The frenzy was about the first weekend of the NCAA’s March Madness, and the pervasive enthusiasm among the passengers revolved around the wellknown “science” of bracketology, in which basketball enthusiasts take all 64 teams in the tournament and try to predict which team will win each match as the teams work their way down to the Final Four and ultimately, to the winner. President Obama had already said that his pick was Indiana (we know now how that turned out — sorry Indiana), but the amateur handicappers on the plane were still sifting through the teams’ records and the coaches’ and individual players’ strengths and weakness to bet (upon their arrival in Las Vegas) on which team would ultimately prevail. Once in Las Vegas, we managed to have our conference despite the March Madness mayhem, and in the course of the meeting, the term bracketology took on an oncology-tinged relevance for me. Bear with me.