Episode 7 with Renée Maria Saliby – Cancer Through My Eyes

In this seventh episode of Cancer Through My Eyes, we follow a story shaped by resilience, compassion, and relentless curiosity. The series continues to spotlight the journeys of oncologists and physician-scientists whose personal paths are deeply intertwined with the work they now do to reshape cancer care.

Today’s guest is Dr. Renée Maria Saliby, a Postdoctoral Research Fellow at Dana-Farber Cancer Institute and PGY-1 in the Traditional Internal Medicine Residency Program at Yale. Originally from Beirut, Lebanon, she holds both an MD and MSc from Saint Joseph University, and her journey into medicine is as deeply personal as it is intellectually driven.

Dr. Renée Maria Saliby’s Story

Growing up in Beirut, Renée Maria Saliby’s earliest experiences with medicine came from being on the other side of care – navigating severe asthma, scoliosis, and the discovery that she had only one kidney.

Her childhood was defined by encounters with physicians whose empathy and presence inspired her to do the same for others. That foundation was paired with a growing love for human physiology, sparked by a high school research project on doping in sports. It was clear: medicine was the perfect blend of service and scientific curiosity.

Now, as a resident at Yale, Dr. Saliby is preparing for a future in hematology-oncology, with a keen focus on genitourinary cancers – particularly kidney cancer. She hopes to bridge her clinical work with translational research and sees academic medicine as a space where she can give back the mentorship she has received.

Q/A

1. You’ve mentioned facing severe health challenges early in life, including asthma, scoliosis, and discovering you had only one kidney. How did being a frequent patient, yourself shape your empathy and approach to caring for others with serious illnesses?

These experiences made me feel extremely vulnerable, and although the medical care I received was consistently reliable in terms of knowledge and skills, the impressions I was left with varied greatly from one provider to another.

One provider in particular was exceptionally thoughtful, they truly listened to me and saw me as a whole person, rather than just as “abdominal pain.”

Similarly, my pediatrician and orthopedic surgeon showed such kindness that I always felt better after seeing them, even if my cold, back issue, or whatever I was dealing with at the time hadn’t actually improved yet. Subsequently, I decided that I would always try to make feel better, especially at their most vulnerable when they’re facing illness.

2. Your high school project on doping in sports sparked your deep interest in human physiology. What was it about that research experience that made you realize medicine, and eventually oncology, was your calling?

Human physiology captivated me during that project – everything felt so logical and interconnected. I was a bit of a nerd as a kid (and probably still am), and understanding how each substance could enhance performance only deepened my curiosity and desire to learn more.

My passion for oncology came later, during my medical training, when I had the chance to rotate at an underserved hospital and take on greater responsibilities on the floor. This interest was further strengthened during my research years and, more recently, during my night shifts on the oncology unit.

Despite the physical and mental exhaustion, I felt a deep sense of belonging, like I was exactly where I was meant to be.

3. You moved from your home country of Lebanon to the U.S. in 2021 and have trained at renowned institutions like Yale and now Dana-Farber. What have been the biggest lessons or surprises in transitioning to an American academic medical environment?

That’s a really interesting question. Growing up in today’s world, surrounded by American TV shows and media, I didn’t experience much of a cultural shock when I moved. However, what I’ve found most challenging is navigating the economic complexities of the healthcare system. Different insurance coverages (or their absence) can either enable or limit an incredibly wide range of decisions and interventions.

Post-discharge care has also been a significant adjustment. In Lebanon, there is almost always a family member ready to pick up the patient and ensure they’re cared for after leaving the hospital. In the U.S., because of the vast distances and the many people who have moved alone for work, I’ve encountered patients who are much more isolated.

Ensuring that they’re safe after discharge, that they can get to their follow-up appointments, access their medications, and receive the support they need , is something I think about constantly. Thankfully, there are systems in place to help with this, and I’m actively learning how to navigate them effectively.

I also feel very fortunate to serve as a primary care provider under supervision at the VA, which is a unique environment of its own. Caring for Veterans is a privilege, but it comes with its own learning curve, starting with mastering the specifics of the EMR, which is entirely different from other hospitals I’ve worked at. There’s still so much for me to learn, but I truly appreciate the opportunity to grow within these systems.

4. Kidney cancer and genitourinary malignancies are areas that still hold many unanswered questions. What draws you to these complex diseases, and how do you hope to contribute through research and clinical innovation?

Working in GU cancer research has already given me so much. It has allowed me to meet incredible people – patients, physicians, scientists, and industry partners – all united by a shared goal.

While a diagnosis of metastatic renal cell carcinoma remains devastating for patients and their families, today’s landscape is markedly different from just a few years ago. Advances in research, coupled with the bravery of patients and families who participate in clinical trials and contribute to research, have significantly expanded our treatment options and understanding of the disease.

Yet, RCC remains deeply puzzling, full of contradictions, and, in its metastatic form, still too often lethal.

We still don’t understand why some patients respond remarkably well to certain therapies while others, with seemingly identical disease characteristics, do not. Being able to predict who will benefit from which treatment is critical: it would spare patients countless unnecessary hours in infusion centers and help them avoid difficult adverse effects.

Immune-related toxicities are another major challenge. These side effects can prevent patients from remaining on therapy long enough to achieve complete and durable responses. Finding ways to better predict, manage, and ultimately prevent these toxicities is essential for improving outcomes.

In short, immuno-oncology and especially its application in kidney cancer continues to fascinate me. I hope to contribute to its progress both at the bedside and through research.

5. How important is institutional culture for young physicians, and what should early-career doctors look for when choosing a training program?

Institutional culture and, more specifically, the culture within the team or department you work with is everything. It can either help you fly or keep you stuck. It’s so important to choose an institution where there is genuine space for young physicians to grow and shine.

At both DFCI and Yale, I’ve been fortunate to have mentors and leaders who truly see the success of their trainees as their own. That kind of culture makes an incredible difference. After going through interview season and nearly completing my intern year, I’ve realized how essential it is to find a program where people are genuinely kind and supportive.

Life is unpredictable, and you never know when you’ll need that support.

I was lucky to find it – from both my program leadership, my co-residents and colleagues/friends – when I needed it most. It’s also important to choose a program that aligns with your priorities and interests. Some people thrive in procedure-heavy programs, while others look for places that foster strong research opportunities or leadership development.

For me, though, there are two non-negotiables: a true culture of teaching and an environment where people genuinely care about one another. Those are the foundations that allow you to do anything

6. Oncology is a field that requires both scientific rigor and profound compassion. How do you maintain this balance in your own work, especially when confronting the emotional weight of cancer diagnoses?

I’m not sure I’ve found the perfect answer to this question. Some days, it’s incredibly hard to move through your day knowing that your patient may not have that same opportunity, or seeing families you’ve come to know and care for begin to grieve. In those moments, I try to channel my emotions into action – to double down on research and learning, so that we can do better for the next patient.

Most of the time, I’ve learned that it’s essential to acknowledge these emotions fully. You must allow yourself to feel the sadness before you can begin to move forward. Earlier in my training, I used to see my empathy and sensitivity as weaknesses – traits I thought I needed to suppress. But a co-resident once told me something that has stayed with me: never stop caring, because that is what will make you a good doctor.

7. You’re open about the “highs and lows” on the journey through medical training. What strategies or mindsets have helped you ‘enjoy the journey’ instead of getting lost in the stress of the next goal?

I may be repeating myself, but surrounding yourself with good people is essential – people who are kind to you and who stand by you at your lowest moments. It’s also so important to hold on to your hobbies and to be intentional about weaving small joys into your daily life, especially during training.

Savor the little moments: a cup of coffee with a friend, a family gathering, a walk in the sun. And make it a priority to be present for the big milestones with your loved ones. Training demands many sacrifices, but staying connected to the moments and people that bring you happiness helps sustain you through the challenges and keeps you grounded in what truly matters.

8. What role do mentorship and networking play in advancing a career in oncology?

Mentorship can truly make or break a career. I’ve been incredibly fortunate to have mentors like Dr. Toni Choueiri and Dr. David Braun, who have given me every opportunity that led to an achievement. They pushed me and believed in me, even at times when I struggled to believe in myself, and they still do.

At the same time, I’ve also benefited from the guidance of other mentors who have shaped different aspects of my growth. For instance, Dr. McGregor has been a role model in the clinic and in how I think about trial design.

Through my internal medicine program at Yale, I’ve also been paired with an associate program director and a mentor-advisor-coach, whose perspectives and advice have had a meaningful impact on many parts of my life beyond my immediate field.

Each mentor has played a unique role, and I’m deeply grateful for that. I’m starting to understand why people say that you need several mentors for the different aspects of your life.

For those who don’t have access to a mentor who feels like the right fit within their own institution, reaching out remotely can be an excellent opportunity. I’ve seen many successful examples of remote mentorships that have been just as impactful as those built locally.

It’s also important to remember that, as you advance, you need not only mentors but also sponsors, people who will actively advocate for you, include you in committees and trials, and make sure your name is brought up in the right rooms.

In today’s world, more than ever, multi-institutional collaborations, data-sharing, and global studies are driving progress in oncology. That’s why networking is so important. Go to the posters and talks that genuinely interest you, engage in conversations, exchange ideas, and don’t hesitate to introduce yourself to people you admire and hope to learn from.

At conferences, one could try to set a personal goal to meet at least one new person each day. It’s small, intentional steps like these that can open doors to opportunities you might never have anticipated.

9. Looking ahead what advice would you give to medical students or residents who want to follow a similar path to yours while balancing academic research, compassionate care, and personal fulfillment?

I still have a lot to learn and experience myself, but if I had to give advice, it would be this: stay true to your values, always uphold professionalism, and consistently put in the work. Luck plays a big role in this journey, but when it meets hard work, it can lead to something truly beautiful.

And, as I’ve emphasized throughout, surround yourself with people who challenge you, support you, and bring out the best in you. The right people will not only push you to grow but will also help you navigate the inevitable ups and downs along the way.

As we look through the lens of Cancer Through My Eyes, Dr. Saliby reminds us that the path into oncology isn’t always linear – but it’s always fueled by purpose, gratitude, and the desire to serve. Her story speaks to the power of personal experiences, cultural identity, and family values in shaping compassionate, driven physician-scientists.

Curious minds fuel great conversations – got something on your mind? Reach out through our socials or message us directly. You might just spark the topic of our next episode!

Stay tuned for more conversations that illuminate the hearts behind the science.

By Semiramida Nina Markosyan, HBSc.