As we sat in the corridor waiting to be called forward for Chloe’s physio appointment I glanced at the name on the door. Having the name on the door is a new thing which is probably why it stood out to me, the name written on a laminated sheet of paper in black board marker. It’s a good thing that the NHS are embracing the My name is …. campaign started by a terminally ill doctor, the campaign started when Doctor Kate Granger grew frustrated with medical staff not introducing themselves as they cared or treated her. Yet the first name I read caused my heart to beat a little faster. I felt apprehensive, nervous and a little bit sick but I just kept quiet sitting there in the corridor with my two girls.
The door opened and Chloe’s name called. Her chair scrapped noisily as we walked into the room and took our seats. Chloe explained the pain she was in with her neck, her previous notes were discussed and her treatment started. The physio took care and chatted as she examined Chloe. She checked Chloe’s spine and I watched like a hawk, a mother worried that her daughter was in pain again.
This was not the first time I had seen this physio, I had met her once before over four years ago. This physio had examined Erin as she limped into her room. This physio initially failed to spot that Erin had a serious issue. This physio suggested putting a lift into Erin’s shoe to address her leg length difference rather than to question what was causing a leg length difference. This physio got it badly wrong with my little girl. This was just a few weeks before Erin was diagnosed with Hip dysplasia also known as DDH.
I felt sick initially but after the shock I have discovered I have forgiven her. Recently I read a brilliant article by Dawn Porter in Glamour magazine titled ‘Forgiveness is like a mental cleanse’. I realised I have forgiven the physio that failed us. She recognised Erin and I during the appointment, she quickly asked questions. I recalled the three phone calls she made in the months after Erin was in spica. She did ring to see how things were going, she did want to learn what treatments Erin was undergoing. She did ask how we were. She never said sorry but I guess she couldn’t because of liability. Yet her actions said sorry. For a long time I was too angry to see that. Too angry to see a subtext. I could only see that she had failed Erin and failed me. Her actions could have impacted more if I hadn’t gone back to the GP and pushed for a paediatrician to see Erin, but ultimately they only delayed things by a couple of weeks and at that point those few weeks didn’t make a difference to the treatment Erin would require.
I held on to that anger for years, tears would fall when I recalled how many health professionals missed that Erin’s hip was dislocated. A child who couldn’t walk and who limped as she dragged a leg that was hanging in the wrong place. But the hurt and anger has faded and I am glad because that anger was not good for me. It made me bitter, it weighed me down. Forgiving those who missed our ddh allows me to move on from it. To let Erin take risks and play like her peers. It allows me to let her run and jump without the knot of fear in my stomach. The forgiveness means that I let Erin go to parties with her friends. It means I laugh when she tells me that she fell over in the playground after spinning around to get dizzy and face palmed the concrete. It means I let her go on a bouncy castle without fearing her hip is about to pop out when she jumps. But all that takes time. Forgiveness has crept up on me. It has been a gradual thing.
It doesn’t mean I will stop campaigning for better awareness of ddh. If I am honest I haven’t forgiven everyone yet (namely the health visitor) but it does mean I don’t let it consume me anymore. As Dawn said ‘ being able to forgive is an acknowledgement that I’ve survived’. We don’t know what the future holds and Xrays are looming again to check how her hip and femur are developing. But we will get through it because Erin is one feisty little girl. I won’t ever be grateful or consider DDH as life enhancing but it has made us tough. It has made Erin determined. It has given Erin the knowledge that she is strong, brave, fearless and that she can do whatever she wants.
7 Responses
I think you do have to be strong to forgive, especially when it involves your children. But it is so much healthier to let go of the anger, it’s great you have Neen able to and had the chance to move on.
Well done on forgiving. It sounds like the physio is a caring person who takes pride in her job and was probably kicking herself for having missed it. I think it’s better for you too to have forgiven otherwise it could eat away at you and you need your energy for your children.
Having medical issues with my daughter I too have faced the ‘lets sort the problem and not actually find out whats wrong’ For us, it caused a number of years of unnecessary pain. It shouldn’t happen. I’m not sure if I’ve forgiven yet and to be honest I don’t know whether I can.
I understand you anger but you are right, she was probably not allowed to admit she was wrong because it would have meant she accepted liability. I am so glad to hear you have forgiven her now – its the only way to live happily in my experience
This is such a sad post. I know what you mean about forgiving though and I think there is some lessons here for me. Carrying anger only hurts us
Oh how awful for you with the physio missing the condition at first. I am a counsellor and holistic therapist and forgiveness is one of the best things you can do FOR YOURSELF – not the other person – for you. You have moved on and are an inspiration for doing so. Kaz x
I was always told as a child that holding on the past angers and hurts only hurts us more and takes away from our present joy but sometimes it can be hard and glad you found forgiveness for the doctor.