Both Sides of the Chair

Well before his first appointment, clinical psychologist Jordie Poncy, PhD, is wide awake. He doesn’t rush like he used to. These days, he builds in extra time to sit quietly, sip his coffee and gather himself before stepping into his role at Moffitt Cancer Center.

“I used to be someone who set the alarm with just enough time to get ready and get out the door,” Poncy said. “Now, I set it extremely early to give myself time to just sit and center myself.”

When he walks into the Supportive Care Medicine clinic, his schedule is full of intake evaluations, follow-ups and heavy conversations. As a clinical psychologist working with cancer patients, he knows every session might carry fear, grief or exhaustion. So he opens each one with honesty.

Jordie Poncy, PhD, works to be a steady presence for his patients to lean on, creating a space where no one feels rushed or pressured to feel a certain way.

“I introduce myself as a psychologist at Moffitt and that I also have another role here, which is as a patient,” he said.

The moment changes everything, and it often feels like a weight has been lifted from the person sitting in the chair in front of him.

“They’re usually relieved,” Poncy said. “Not happy I have cancer — but grateful. They tend to be very glad that they’re working with someone who they feel can understand aspects of the experience and they don’t have to explain everything to.”

From Provider to Patient

In August 2022, Poncy was ready to start a new job at Moffitt. He was excited to give back to a place that helped his father beat bladder cancer years before.

Instead, he had to call his new employer with news that he was still trying to process himself.

“I had to call them from the hospital,” he said. “I told them I couldn’t start in a week. I’m at the hospital, and they have just found cancer.”

Poncy had gone to the emergency room for stomach issues. The pain had started as a dull and annoying ache, but it lingered and eventually became a sharper pain. He knew something wasn’t right.

“I really thought it would be nothing,” Poncy said. “But the scan found tumors in my liver and lymph nodes.”

At first, doctors thought it was colorectal cancer. A treatment plan was formed, and chemotherapy was scheduled. But two days before he was set to begin, a call came in. His pathology results had arrived, and everything changed.

“It wasn’t what they thought,” he said. “It was neuroendocrine carcinoma, which is rarer and can be more aggressive. We needed a whole new plan.”

Poncy was 39 years old, a clinical psychologist by training. Overnight, he had become a cancer patient in the same hospital where he had been offered a role of supporting others.

He could no longer start work immediately, so Moffitt held his job for him.

Life Before Cancer

Psychology wasn’t always Poncy’s plan. He started college as a pre-med student until an incident in the chemistry lab changed his course.

“I accidentally created a huge sulfuric acid cloud,” he laughed. “They had to evacuate the entire building. That’s when I thought, maybe this isn’t for me.”

He pivoted to psychology and found a better fit. After graduating from Davidson College, Poncy went through a doctorate program at the University of Houston, a clinical internship in Arizona and a postdoctoral position at the University of South Florida.

By the time he applied to Moffitt, Poncy had also spent time at an area hospital during the pandemic, supporting frontline staff in crisis. But nothing in his training specifically prepared him for cancer care.

“I didn’t have any oncology experience,” he said. “I had a general health psych background but learned fast — especially once I became a patient myself.”

A Rare Diagnosis, a Personalized Path

After the surprise diagnosis of neuroendocrine carcinoma, Poncy quickly learned how rare and aggressive his cancer is.

His oncologist, Jonathan Strosberg, MD, leader of the Neuroendocrine Tumor Division and the Gastrointestinal Department Research Program, specializes in these rare cancers.

Jonathan Strosberg, MD

“What Jordie has is a poorly differentiated neuroendocrine carcinoma, which is an extremely aggressive type of cancer,” Strosberg explained. “Fortunately, he’s done very well and has responded well to treatment.”

Poorly differentiated neuroendocrine carcinoma is a fast-growing form of cancer. It usually develops in the lungs in the form of small-cell carcinoma, but it can also occur in the digestive system and in almost any part of the body where neuroendocrine cells are found. Unlike some slower-growing neuroendocrine tumors, poorly differentiated neuroendocrine carcinomas typically progress quickly and are diagnosed late.

“Treatments are very individualized,” Strosberg said.

For Poncy, that has meant frequent chemo infusion appointments and adjustments over time. The treatment has become part of his routine — infusions at Moffitt, followed by a few days of wearing a portable pump.

“You adjust,” he said. “You find ways to work it into your life.”

At first, figuring out his new routine felt like a blur to Poncy. But he began treatment and eventually started his professional role at Moffitt five months later, in January 2023. Slowly, he found his balance in both worlds.

A Deeper Connection

At Moffitt, Poncy brings more than just clinical experience — he brings lived experience.

“I’ll tell clients I’m also a patient,” he said. “And I can see a shift. There’s less explaining they feel like they have to do.”

His approach draws from a psychology concept called mutual empathy, which is different from traditional models where therapists remain neutral and emotionally distant.

“Old-school psychology used to think of the therapist as a blank slate. Clients would project things onto the therapist, which was considered valuable data. So they would offer very little,” he said. “But we have evolved way beyond that.”

The model he follows builds the relationship on shared respect and emotional presence. “There’s a mutual care and respect for one another,” he explained. “Even if the emphasis is still on the well-being of the patient. And I feel like that really plays out here.”

That kind of shared understanding makes a big difference — especially when patients know he understands cancer firsthand.

“Knowing we’re kind of in it together and figuring it out together has really built that sense of mutual caring and empathy,” he said. “It’s opened up a lot of new possibilities in this work that I didn’t have before.”

Poncy formed a close bond with one patient and her family throughout her care. After she passed away, they asked if he would speak at her memorial service — a request that moved him.

“That was hard and sad,” Poncy remembered, “but also such a major honor.”

The moment left a lasting mark. “It reminded me this work is a relationship,” he said. “It’s real, and I carry that with me.”

Creative Coping

“In between stimulus and response, there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. And in our response lies our growth and freedom.”

Poncy references this quote often. The words of psychiatrist and Holocaust survivor Viktor Frankl have guided him through life before and after cancer.

Jordie Poncy, PhD, has used creativity to help process his experience. His paper-cutting art is framed throughout his home. One piece, created shortly after his diagnosis, portrays three roles: a person, a patient and a provider.

“That’s what therapy is,” he said. “And it is what cancer is. It’s learning to find the space between what happens and how you respond.”

After his diagnosis, Poncy turned to creativity to help process his experience.

His love for paper-cutting art began during the pandemic. It’s a delicate process, where he slowly trims and layers paper to create textured designs. Bright and colorful pieces are framed throughout his Tampa home, depicting scenes of the Florida lifestyle.

A piece he created shortly after his diagnosis portrays three roles: a person, a patient and a provider. It sits on a desk in his living room.

“I was thinking about the different parts of myself — the professional, the patient and then just me, who I’ve always been. That’s why the version of me on the left is in more outdoorsy clothes, like hiking gear. That part is still there — it’s just not the main part right now.”

Another outlet for Poncy has been social media. On Instagram, he shares reflections — not to document every step of his journey, but to process his experience and offer guidance to others navigating their own challenges.

“I try to share things that are more about coping in general,” he said. “Like, here is what I have learned, or here’s something I am sitting with. It’s not really about the medical side of things.”

His posts focus on the emotional side of illness — how to deal with anxiety, the importance of asking for help or the grief that can come with physical changes. They are short and thoughtful videos that stem from his own experience.

“I am not trying to be inspirational,” Poncy said. “It’s more about saying, ‘Hey, if you’re feeling this, too, that makes sense.’”

He has had a positive response from people online facing cancer, as well as those who do not have a disease but appreciate learning tips to help others cope.

“I think there’s value in saying it out loud,” he said. “Even if it is just on Instagram.”

‘Just Be There’

In his work at Moffitt, Poncy is often the steady presence patients can lean on during moments of uncertainty. But this experience has shown him that support isn’t a one-way street.

“I’ve been lucky to have really incredible people in my life,” he said. “Friends, family, colleagues — they’ve all shown up for me in different ways.”

That support can come through conversations. Other times, it’s a ride to treatment or a friend showing up to grab a coffee and explore a new restaurant in town.

“I’ve had friends fly in just to hang out or distract me for a weekend,” he said. “It means everything.”

That kind of presence — uncomplicated and consistent — is something he now tries to mirror in every session.

“I know what it means to have someone sit with you in it,” he said. “Not to rush you. Not to need you to feel better. Just be there.”

As he continues treatment, Poncy says cancer has changed him but hasn’t taken away from who he is. He’s still a psychologist, a friend and a son. But he is also a patient with a deeper understanding of himself and a clearer view of what matters most.

“There’s so much we can’t control,” he explained. “But there’s also a lot of beauty in showing up for each other. That’s what I keep coming back to.”

This article originally appeared in Moffitt's Momentum magazine.