Abstract: When, as doctors, we give people a diagnosis of cancer, the responses vary. Some people crumble; they are devastated and feel unable to cope. Others are in shock or denial. Others seem to find an extraordinary strength from somewhere. What nearly everyone needs is honest information and the knowledge that they are not alone with their sadness and grief. So it was with the tragic news that has befallen us over the past few weeks. The threat of terrorism in some ways seems like the threat of metastatic cancer, lying in wait, sinister. But being able to share the fear helps. Out of the awfulness can emerge a sense of connectedness, of sharing the awfulness, of the potential power of the human spirit. 25 years ago, I worked as an intern in New York City. I loved its vibrancy, the feeling of being in a global city. New Yorkers are struggling to keep that vibrancy alive. The city will never be the same again; the world will never be the same again. But the growing awareness of the need for global cooperation can give hope. As doctors, we are very fortunate in already identifying with an international community. At times like these, the support of organisations such as Medact is invaluable. One of the challenges for us just now, perhaps particularly those of us who are family physicians, is to try to help those of our patients who are suffering alone, without the benefit of close communities or groups, directly through family loss, through anxiety from memories of previous wars, or from concerns about the future for themselves or their children. By allowing them to express their feelings and by reinforcing the notion that we are all in this together, that we are all part of one very large community, we can help. I rang an elderly woman patient yesterday evening to give her the result of her electrocardiogram. “How are you feeling?” I asked. “Dreadful, isn't it all dreadful?” she replied. I hope that the brief chat we then had was more valuable to her than the result of her test.