I was about eight or nine when I found myself attending another customary orthopaedic evaluation at Crumlin’s paediatric hospital in Dublin. Accompanied by my mum and sibling, I recall the inspection room and the bed I occupied that day. My memory still captures the entrance of my physician.
Appearing with a welcoming smile, I only offered a grimace.
He initiated the conversation by querying my mum about how I had been coping after my last surgery. I’d had that surgery for my scoliosis condition which necessitated the installation of two titanium rods in my back when I was seven. Until I reached 12, these had to be extended every six months. In response, my mum expressed that I was acquitting myself brilliantly. True to this comment, I’ve always been a rapid mender and had swiftly regained my usual pace. As he brought up my X-rays on the computer, it was clear that I was progressing well.
After confirming my physical state, he turned to me and asked how I felt.
The doctor gently enquired about my emotional well-being. Cranky that I couldn’t partake in the fun on the local park slide like my classmates did, I, rather bluntly, blamed him for ruining my life.
Evidently, he hadn’t wrecked my life. I made the statement spontaneously and the mortified expressions on my mum and sister’s faces remain fresh in my memory. I assumed I hadn’t said anything inappropriate; as far as I was concerned, the facts were as I stated them, and because of him, I was having a hard time walking. Feeling resentful at times, I couldn’t comprehend at such a young age why walking was a struggle for me while it wasn’t for my peers.
My mum urged me to offer an apology to the doctor. I disregarded her advice. With a comforting smile, he apologised that I was unable to engage in the same activities as my friends. He was a considerate individual. Back then, I believed my situation to be his fault, and it gave me a sense of joy and a dash of pride to voice my thoughts.
In my young mind, the only person worthy of blame was my spinal surgeon.
Recently, I took the decision to acquire duplicates of my childhood medical details from my period as a long-duration patient at one of Ireland’s leading children’s hospitals – Our Lady’s Hospital in Crumlin. The procedure wasn’t complicated. I made a call to the hospital and was transferred to the patient advocacy department. I was given instructions to email the department my personal data (name, birth date, residential address, and so forth) along with the reason for my request. The whole process took a month before I received the duplicates.
For each paperwork of medication and procedure details, my concern was drawn more to the doctors’ remarks about my personality. A recurring observation about me was my determination and independence as a young girl, I loved to indulge in conversations with everyone and never let my physical challenges deter me. One thing that struck me was that my surgeon referred to me as his “friend,” a notion that would have outraged the young nine-year-old me.
Such a statement reignited past memories and I was flooded with feelings of shame and guilt which I could not escape from.
This triggered my decision to pen him a letter. Truth be told, over the years, I have attempted to write to him on multiple occasions, but I was often more than capable of composing only the first two sentences. Even on the few occasions where I managed to jot down more than that, I found myself hesitating to send it. Embarrassment was still felt.
However, I was resolute to write him a comprehensive letter because I wanted to underline that he certainly hadn’t destroyed my life, instead, he improved it.
When I look back on it now, my younger self amazes me. She continuously showcased her resilience and willpower.
I wasn’t expecting a reply and was pleasantly surprised when I received an email response which was incidentally a day prior to another planned surgery (I had successful hip replacement surgery this year). I believed he would recall my ill-mannered side, but he recalled me as nothing of that sort. He remembered me as a strong and admirable child. He wished me luck for my upcoming surgery, also mentioning his happiness for me finally undergoing the surgery knowing my prolonged wait. Following my recovery from the operation, I revisited his email.
I can say, it has helped in healing my past traumas and lessening self-condemnation and remorse.
Maintaining ongoing health conditions often leads to a certain rapport with your medical team. They familiarise themselves with you, understanding the individual you are. Like numerous ill youngsters who spend considerable time in medical facilities, my team of doctors and I eventually arrived at a common comprehension. They recognised that I didn’t handle unexpected situations well (I’d feel cornered) and hence made it a point to always keep me informed of their strategies. They were always prepared to respond to each of my queries, didn’t mind reiterating their responses and took into account my feelings about every aspect.
Looking back, despite the initial awkwardness, I’ve come to commend my younger self. She championed her rights and consistently demonstrated her fortitude and resolve.
She ensured that everyone she encountered knew that she wouldn’t be singled out simply due to her handicap.
My wish is that every child in a hospital is as assertive. So, I’m indebted to Dr Patrick Kiely. You absolutely did not fail me. If it weren’t for your intervention to correct my spine, the life I currently lead would not be possible. My gratitude is everlasting.