Context
Reading the Patient, Not the Number ~ The Five C’s of Clinical Interpretation
I think one of the biggest mistakes we make in medicine is assuming that context begins with the diagnosis.
It doesn’t.
By the time someone is told they have cancer, there is already a lifetime of biology behind that diagnosis. The diagnosis may be new, but the person is not. Their biology has been shaped over years by genetics, environment, nutrition, immune function, metabolic health, infections, exposures, stress physiology, sleep, hormones, trauma, resilience, and the countless adaptations the body makes over time.
This does not mean that every life experience “causes” cancer. That is too simplistic, and it is not what I am saying.
What it does mean is that biology does not develop in isolation. Early life, environment, stress physiology, inflammation, immune regulation, and metabolic function all influence the terrain in which health is maintained - or disease develops. The field of developmental origins of health and disease, for example, recognizes that prenatal and early-life exposures can influence long-term vulnerability to chronic disease later in life.
Before we read the blood work, we need to read the patient.
In today’s healthcare environment it is surprisingly easy to do the opposite. We have become exceptionally good at generating data. A single blood draw can give us dozens of laboratory values. Advanced testing can identify circulating tumor DNA, measure inflammatory markers, characterize immune cell populations, and reveal molecular alterations that would have been unimaginable not that long ago.
But more information does not automatically create better interpretation.
A laboratory value does not tell us what is happening by itself. It tells us what was measured at one moment in time. The meaning of that result depends on the person it belongs to, the disease they are carrying, and the moment in the clinical journey when that value was measured.
That is the first layer of the Five C’s.
Context is the moving intersection of the person, the disease, and the moment.
Not one of those can be interpreted properly without the others.
The person matters because the same disease behaves differently in different bodies.
The disease matters because “cancer” is not one biological state. A breast cancer, colon cancer, melanoma, glioblastoma, or pancreatic cancer each carries its own biology, and even within the same diagnosis, the subtype, grade, stage, mutations, metastatic pattern, tumor microenvironment, and treatment sensitivity may be very different. Modern oncology increasingly recognizes cancer as a dynamic ecosystem involving tumor cells, immune cells, stromal cells, metabolism, inflammation, and the surrounding microenvironment, not simply a mass of malignant cells.
Perhaps the most overlooked aspect of context is timing.
A patient’s biology is constantly changing, particularly during cancer treatment. The physiological environment that exists immediately after surgery is very different from the environment several months into recovery. Likewise, someone actively receiving chemotherapy cannot be interpreted in the same way as someone whose bone marrow is recovering after treatment. The biological landscape changes again during immunotherapy, during an acute infection, after radiation, or during periods of nutritional decline or disease progression.
This means that laboratory values cannot be separated from the moment in which they were measured.
An elevated inflammatory marker two weeks after major surgery may represent an expected healing response. The same value six months later, in a patient with progressive symptoms, may carry a very different significance. A decline in lymphocytes during cytotoxic chemotherapy may be entirely anticipated, whereas a similar decline in a patient several months after completing treatment may prompt a different line of thinking.
The laboratory value may appear identical.
The biology behind it may not be.
This is why context extends far beyond a diagnosis or a medical history. It requires an understanding of the patient’s entire clinical journey. Before I begin interpreting blood work, I want to understand not only what disease we are treating, but where the patient is within that disease.
What is the primary diagnosis? What subtype are we dealing with? What does the pathology tell us about the biology of the tumor? Is the disease localized or metastatic? Has it remained relatively stable, or has it demonstrated aggressive progression? Are there actionable molecular alterations that help explain its behavior?
Equally important is understanding where the patient is in their treatment course. Have they recently undergone surgery? Are they midway through chemotherapy? Recovering from radiation? Receiving immunotherapy? Have they experienced a recent infection, hospitalization, or significant physiological stress? Each of these events changes the biological environment and, consequently, changes the way laboratory findings should be interpreted.
But understanding the disease is only part of the picture.
I also want to understand the person living with that disease.
What has shaped their biology over the years? Do they have underlying metabolic dysfunction, autoimmune disease, chronic viral infections, or longstanding inflammatory conditions? Have they experienced prolonged psychological stress, poor sleep, nutritional deficiencies, environmental exposures, or hormonal imbalances? What does their baseline physiology look like before we ever consider the effects of cancer itself?
These questions are not peripheral to interpretation—they are central to it.
Every patient arrives with a unique biological history. Cancer develops within that biology, and treatment acts upon it. The laboratory values we review are therefore not simply reflections of the disease; they are reflections of the ongoing interaction between the individual, the disease process, and the particular moment in time in which those measurements were obtained.
This is why two patients with the same diagnosis, identical staging, and even similar treatment protocols can have remarkably different clinical courses. One may tolerate treatment with relatively little difficulty, while another develops significant inflammation, nutritional decline, immune suppression, or prolonged fatigue. One patient’s laboratory profile may begin demonstrating evidence of recovery long before imaging changes become apparent, while another may have stable scans but persistent biological signs of physiological stress.
The pathology may appear similar.
The biology rarely is.
For that reason, I do not think of context as something that is gathered once at the beginning of a consultation. Context is dynamic. It changes with every treatment, every infection, every scan, every laboratory result, every symptom, and every physiological adaptation the patient experiences.
Clinical interpretation must evolve with it.
The first step in interpreting blood work is therefore not identifying what is abnormal. It is understanding what those laboratory values belong to: a unique individual, living with a unique disease, at a unique moment in time. Only when those three dimensions are considered together can laboratory data begin to tell a meaningful biological story.


This was a thoughtful reflection. As a physician-scientist, I think context is one of the most undervalued concepts in both medicine and science. The same laboratory value, imaging finding, symptom, or research result can have completely different meanings depending on the individual, their history, and the broader clinical picture.
The same is true in biology. A molecule can be protective in one tissue and harmful in another. Inflammation can be essential for healing or contribute to chronic disease. Even genes and biomarkers derive much of their significance from the environment in which they operate. Context doesn’t just refine our interpretation but it often determines whether our conclusions are correct.
I also think this extends beyond medicine. We naturally seek simple explanations because they make a complex world easier to navigate. Yet the deeper we study physiology, the more we appreciate that health emerges from relationships between systems rather than isolated variables. Context is what transforms data into understanding.
Perhaps that’s why humility is such an important scientific virtue. Every observation gains meaning only when we ask, “Under what circumstances is this true?” That question has shaped some of the greatest advances in medicine, and it continues to remind us that wisdom often lies not in knowing more facts, but in understanding the context in which those facts exist.
Thanks again!