Summary
- From humor to art, two Forum keynotes illuminated how we navigate illness, grief, and uncertainty—and why honest conversations bring clarity and connection.
After nearly 20 years at IHI, I’ve sat through my fair share of Forum keynotes. They’ve all been inspiring, educational, energizing, and heartbreaking. But this year’s stood out in a way that few others have. Two talks, from very different storytellers, managed to weave humor, grief, art, and survival into their poignant conversations.
We heard a comedian‑physician and his wife, Dr. Will and Kristin Flanary (known online as the Glaucomfleckens), share how they navigated illness through humor. Their honesty and refusal to take themselves too seriously offered a unique perspective on survival. Kristin reminded us that illness does not happen to one person, it happens to an entire family system. She calls it “co-survivorship.” Her framing gave language to something caregivers often feel but rarely articulate: the emotional labor, fear, and trauma they carry. For the Flanarys, humor wasn’t a distraction from that pain. It was one of the ways they metabolized it.
I often see the concept of co‑survivorship in my work directing The Conversation Project. Families navigating the unknown, negotiating decisions, laughing and grieving together. I’m drawn to advance care planning because it brings comfort and clarity not only to those nearing the end of life, but also to the people who will grieve them. Using conversation and even a little humor early on can help people grieve the loss of someone important without adding extra layers of worry — like wondering whether they made the right choices, or whether their relationships with siblings will suffer from their decisions.
We also heard from artist and designer Candy Chang, who explored surviving grief through vulnerability and imagination. Her metaphor of “releasing grief like a splatter painting” stayed with me. Grief isn’t linear or tidy, and it often shows up in unexpected ways. Her work surfaces the questions and emotions people usually keep to themselves. Candy also shared the idea of “dwelling nowhere” — learning to feel at home even when life is in motion. For her, reflecting on mortality wasn’t morbid; it was clarifying. It helped her strip life down to what is essential.
While we listened to Candy Chang speak, people around me were visibly moved by her visuals and stories, and by her ability to hold grief with lightness. By the end of the session, dozens of people were lined up to speak with her and share their own stories. They lined up to add their own reflections to the Before I Die wall in the hallway. Among the entries were: “publish my book,” “perform again,” “see the Pacific Ocean,” “rescue more dogs,” “see my children fall in love,” and “get a hug from Jason Mamoa or Pedro Pascal.”
The concept of reflection and leaning into uncertainty resonated with what I often hear in end-of-life conversations. When people talk about what matters most, they rarely start with medical preferences. They talk about dignity, connection, meaning, comfort, identity.
In intersection of the Flanarys’ and Candy Chang’s stories revealed key truths at the heart of The Conversation Project’s work: the hidden burdens people carry, the ache of uncertainty, and the relief that comes from finally speaking honestly. Both keynotes — so different in style, yet so aligned in message — reminded us how essential connection is at every stage of life. Even though I attended the IHI Forum in a professional capacity, I walked away with insights that felt deeply personal.
Kate DeBartolo is a Senior Director at IHI.
Photo by Kate DeBartolo
You may also be interested in:
- Experience the IHI Forum keynotes with the Virtual Pass
- Physician Will Flanary on Comedy and Connection in Health Care
- Artist and Designer Candy Chang on Loneliness, Grief, and Connection