Most people have long-time friends, often from their youth, and, as they get older, they resent the fact that their circle of relationships shrinks. I am very lucky to have made friends in my maturity and today's column is dedicated to one of them: doctor Claudia Burlá, who left early, at the age of 64, on June 16th. A geriatrician, with a doctorate in bioethics and a national reference in the area of palliative care, was one of the first interviewees on the program 50 Mais CBN, which I anchored with doctor and gerontologist Alexandre Kalache and journalist Mara Luquet. I went to check the date: June 20, 2015. Little by little, she became an interviewee and became a friend. It is impossible not to be enchanted by his intelligence and passion for his profession. Regarding palliative care – which I have discussed so many times in this space – I had a clear statement:
Geriatrician Claudia Burlá: “It’s when you think there’s nothing left to do that palliative care can make all the difference” — Photo: Mariza Tavares
“It is when you think there is nothing more to do that palliative care can make all the difference for the person until the end of their life.”
They weren't just words. It was her daily life as a doctor, speaker, teacher, mentor. In the last few days, I have reread five years of exchanged messages that were stored on my cell phone. From March 2021, when we wrote about the climate of fear and helplessness during the pandemic, until the end of May this year, when we organized our last dinner together. I can't imagine this gap in communication.
We shared impressions about the conferences we went to together or watched online. We shared articles – and, generously, she passed on many of my g1 columns to other health professionals – and, of course, tips on films, series, books. I asked friends for doctor recommendations, or specialists to interview, and I knew that whatever name Claudia suggested was among the best in her specialty. Our favorite thing to do was go to a good Japanese restaurant, where we invariably ordered a caipirinha, because we were a connoisseur of good cachaças.
In 2022, the diagnosis of brain cancer forced her to undergo delicate surgery. She told me that she was immersed in developing the “resignifications necessary to survive with the dignity that she had always defended”. Now he played the role of patient and realized, with his usual lucidity:
“Having a label with the name of a serious illness is very heavy, but I continue to be my protagonist and actively participate in all decisions.”
Little by little, he resumed his activities, including working in the office. In November 2024, his 63rd birthday was celebrated with friends new and old (of course I was there!). In September 2025, we had a chat at the launch of my latest book, Life after 60: prepare to create the best version of yourself. She had read the first – and more than imperfect – version of the work, making numerous valuable suggestions. Owner of endless curiosity, she started taking tambourine lessons and, recently, had taken a course on AI in medicine.
However, 2026 brought bad news. The cancer had spread again to the brain. Claudia faced another surgery and we met a few times, but at the beginning of this month, the condition deteriorated quickly. She left following her own rules, mistress of her destiny. At her wake, everyone repeated the same words to remember her: professional rigor and solidity, integrity, generosity. I wish we had had the strength to turn that moment into a celebration.
I want to leave here a memory that serves as a guide for all of us: an excerpt from a column I wrote when she participated in the 2019 edition of GeriatRio. In her presentation, she said she sought inspiration from the painter Frida Kahlo, who died at just 47 years old, after enduring excruciating pain resulting from polio and a serious traffic accident. Here is the text:
"The name Frida sums up what is related to the aging process. The F is for functionality, the power of the body which, with old age, declines and opens its guard so that diseases can occur and there is a progressive decline. The R is for resilience, which implies acceptance and adaptation in relation to new situations and restrictions. The I is for insufficiency, when one moves towards an irreversible situation, with a day-to-day life of limitations up to total dependence. The D is for dignity, the desire of every human being and which can be committed throughout our journey. Finally, the A is for autonomy, which, after full health, is the greatest asset we have. This is Claudia Burlá's legacy, which, I'm sure, many of those who knew her will try to keep alive.
Mariza Tavares and Claudia Burlá at the launch of the book Life after 60 – get ready to create your best version — Photo: Personal collection
