At 11:15 a.m. Dr. Audrey Garrett swiftly opens the door to her first patient’s room.  Her cheerful purple scrubs and animal-print glasses appear to be in stark contrast with the flawless bun that sits at the back of her head, seeming as though it belongs on the head of a stern headmistress.  Although the exam room has stark, white walls, medical equipment on the counters and a bed in the corner, it still feels welcoming because of the rainbow mobile hanging in the corner and the colorful poster hanging on the wall.  The patient and her husband have been waiting in the small room for more than an hour to see Garrett, but they still smile broadly when they see her coming through the door.  After exchanging pleasantries, Garrett sits down on the bed that is usually meant for patients, and their conversation begins with a laugh.  It is hard to grasp that Garrett is about to tell this woman that she needs chemotherapy and radiation.
    Garrett is a gynecologic oncologist at Sacred Heart Medical Center in Eugene, Oregon.  She helps women fight a killer – cancer.  She does so by not only performing physical acts, such as surgeries and exams, on her patients, but also by providing them with the mental help and knowledge that they need to fight such a powerful opponent.  Although the fight is not always won, Garrett is always ready for the next battle.  She is a women’s warrior. 
    Becoming a fighter was not a conscious choice for Garrett, because it never occurred to her to do anything else.  “I always thought I would do medicine,” she says. 
    Unlike many young girls who dream about following in their mother’s footsteps, Garrett spent her youth attracted to her father’s career, which was that of an orthopedic surgeon.  “I got to see my first surgery when I was in seventh grade, and I just remember being fascinated, and thinking it was really cool,” she says.  
    Although Garrett knew that she wanted to become a doctor, her idea of how she wanted to practice medicine changed between college and medical school, when she spent two-and-a-half years teaching English at a medical school in China.  “What I had learned in my time in China was really a totally different appreciation of public health,” she says.  She attributes her time in China  to developing her into the doctor she is today.  Garrett says, “Public health, to me, is still really where it is.”
    Her time in China can also be accredited to why she decided to become a gynecologic oncologist.  “Cervical cancer is the number one cancer killer of women worldwide, so it was my way of tying public health and gynecologic oncology,” she says.
    When Garrett made the decision to become a gynecologist it was not a decision that many female medical students were making.  Garrett says, “The year when I started residency was the first year that males and females were equal in coming to gynecology.”  The previous year males were the majority of gynecology residents. 
    Again, when Garrett began her specialized fellowship in the field of gynecologic oncology, she was entering a field that was dominated by males.  “When I first went to the national meeting it was majority male,” she says. 
    With the help of amazing female mentors Garrett was able to become one of the trailblazers who laid the path for women to come.  She says that the national meetings often  have childcare now and are majority female.  “It’s nice.  It’s nice that it has changed,” she says.
    Garrett believes that being a woman makes a difference to her patients.  “I think they are more willing to talk to me about their sex lives, and more willing to talk to me about their depression, but I also think I ask those questions that a lot of male doctors don’t,” she says.  She asks the questions that she does because she understands not only what it feels like to be a woman, but to be a healthy woman.
    As Garrett walks into another exam room, the patient, who is meeting Garrett for the first time, does not seem nervous or overwhelmed, but instead looks comfortable sitting on a purple bench next to the door.  For the most part the room looks like the other, but it doesn’t have the colorful poster on the wall or a mobile hanging in the corner, so it feels slightly colder, and more like an exam room.  Although the  patient knows that she has a football-sized mass invading her body, she does not know if it is benign or malignant and is going to rely on and trust Garrett to perform a surgery on her.  Even though she has just met Garrett and will possibly have to expose herself mentally and physically, the patient is talking to Garrett as though she is talking to a friend who she has known for years.  Garrett even comments on her patient’s apparent feelings of openness and understanding.  The patient replies that she just wants to get the mass out of her. 
    Garrett understands that women going through something like cancer need someone to trust and they need someone who can tell them what they need to know.  She says: “It’s hard to do, but I also know that I am one of the few people who are actually going to talk about it with them.  I try to be as frank as possible.  There is usually a lot of relief in the room because they are getting answers.”
    Garrett splits her time 50-50 between seeing patients and performing surgeries.  Although she enjoys both, each requires a very different mind set from her.  When she is seeing patients, she is able to build trust and emotional connections with them.  She says that she becomes “way too emotionally involved.”  She laughs with patients, and she cries with patients, although laughter can more often be heard throughout the office.  When she performs surgeries, though, her emotions are void, and her intuition takes over.  “I love doing surgeries,” she says.  “I love thinking outside the box.  They are puzzles and it’s cool.” 
    Surgeries can also allow for Garrett to feel a slight sense of gratification, because she has removed invasive cancer from her grateful patient.  Although at times, no matter how strong a warrior Garrett is, her patients will die.  “Sometimes it is really sad, and sometimes it’s a relief that their suffering’s over,” she says.  “I should not say a relief, but it’s the right thing, and I think sometimes we feel like we have helped to prepare them.”
    At 11:15 a.m. as Garrett tells her patient that she needs chemotherapy and radiation, her patient does not cry, or even look surprised.  Instead she looks to Garrett with concern and begins to ask her questions.  Garrett calmly answers each question in detail, and even draws pictures on the back of a lab report for her patient to see. 
    Eventually the patient’s husband asks the question that has been rushing through his mind, “What are the odds of fighting this?” 
    Without missing a beat, Garrett answers the question honestly, and in terms that the patient and her husband can understand.  By the end of their conversation the look on the patient’s face has turned from one of concern to one of hope.  The appointment ends with a hug between Garrett and the patient, and more laughs between them all.  Now it is time for Garrett to see 14 more patients.  
    Garrett would never call herself a hero, but there are hundreds of women and men around Eugene and southern Oregon who call her theirs.  She does what she does every day because she loves making a difference in her patients' lives.  She says, “For me, it’s all about the patients and the public health aspect.” 
    Because of this, Garrett will always remain a women’s warrior.