The Danger of Saying "I'm Sorry"

My Ob/Gyn started talking about my need for a hysterectomy back in 2005. And let's be clear,

it's not the same one who operated on me last week--two countries, two states, and two cities later, I'd seen several...but really it goes even further back.

I had 4 c-sections. The doctor, let me change that, the amazing doctor (okay she might also be a friend) who delivered 3 of them told me at the time, "I'm using the same incision site for less scarring on the outside but it could down the road cause scar tissues issues if you need other abdominal surgery." Y'all I was 31--down the road? I couldn't think past down the hall where I had four children four and under sleeping...I'm sure in my best Scarlett O'Hara voice I thought, "I'll think about that tomorrow." 

In as short of a statement as this incredibly wordy person can make, let me just say this. Over the years, every doctor I talked to repeated the same information. I was not a candidate for a vaginal hysterectomy and the possibility of having to be completely opened was very real AND there was a lot of scar tissue that would make the surgery more complicated. I knew all that along with the length of time recovery would take because of the above which is a big part of the reason it took 15 years for me to say yes. Truthfully, I said yes now because the consequences of not saying yes were far worse--low iron, exhaustion, yadda yadda yadda. And let me say this, my doctor now and the nurse practitioner spent LOTS of time talking to me prior to the surgery--in the office, on the phone, and even at our local favorite "cheers." I guess the shorter way to say it was I went into this surgery with eyes wide open--obviously, they were closed during the actual surgery.

Surgery happened--it was laparoscopic and difficult, but it was over. Or so I thought. The first few hours after surgery was relatively pain-free--thank you for pain meds and the catheter--and then they took it out.

I don't need to nor do I want to re-live the next 24 hours. Let me just say within 3 or 4 hours I knew something wasn't right no matter how many times the nursing staff told me pain was normal after surgery. (I've been asked several times exactly what I said around 1 am for which I felt the need to apologize with flowers and homebaked goods--I said (read shrieked), "Jesus Christ, you've got to do something and do it right now. Stop standing there and move.")

Mid-day Thursday my doctor came in, sat down next to me, listened to me, and took action. She knows me. She knows my high level of pain. She knows I try not to complain. She made calls and put in orders and we quickly knew most likely my bladder had been damaged. (*If you're interested in the details, they are at the end.) Back into surgery I went, and this time my abdomen had to be opened completely.

The next day my doctor returned to my room, again sat down next to me, and said, "I am so sorry.  I really didn't want you to have to be opened completely. I am so sorry this has increased your recovery time and your pain. I am so sorry you have to go through this." She meant it, I knew she meant it--there may have been some shiny tear-filled eyes. At that moment there was the recognition that things didn't go the way either of us wanted and there was compassion, empathy, and humanity. She knows me; she knows I have young adult children at home; she knows I love my vocation and don't want to take time off; she knows I'm not good at asking for help. She connected with who I am, and it was a beautiful moment. I shared it with some others--I'm struggling with that decision now....

I'm not going to be dramatic (now there's a change) and say I have been inundated with calls, emails, and texts suggesting I should consider a lawsuit, but there have been enough--let me be clear there have been too many.** I knew at the time, and I know now. My doctor was not apologizing because she made a mistake. She was apologizing because another human being was suffering and she wished it wasn't so. In that moment we were both fully human in our vocations and as middle-aged women.

It is not uncommon to hear people say, "Doctors think they are gods and they would never admit to making mistakes or say they're sorry." Maybe that's true in some cases or even many cases, but after this experience, I have to say I don't blame them. I really wonder why any of us risk saying we're sorry about anything. I've been thinking about this for the past 48 hours and thinking about instances where my own apologies or apologies made by others have been used against them. It has become dangerous to express compassion using some words and that danger diminishes our ability to connect as human beings. 

And for that, I am deeply sorry.

*My bladder was attached to my uterus. During c-sections, the bladder is removed from the abdominal cavity (Chris and I both remember Ruth telling us it was sitting on the table next to me), and when it is returned, it often adheres to the uterus. During surgery to remove the uterus it is possible to nick the bladder. My doctor checked thoroughly for that and didn't see anything. There could have been a nick in the back she couldn't see OR it could be the wall of the bladder was so thin that once the uterus had been removed and the bladder filled up the wall was too thin to hold it and tore. Either way, the abdominal cavity then filled which caused the excruciating pain (a liter was siphoned off). I knew this was a risk, and it was a risk I was willing to take. The definition of "risk" is "a situation involving exposure to danger." I just didn't know the greater risk came because someone dared to express compassion.

** I do not deny there are times there is medical malpractice that needs to be addressed. I am not saying lawsuits are not at times necessary. I do not deny there are times doctors unintentionally make life-altering mistakes and there must be compensation. But I do not believe a doctor's words of compassion should be used against them. If we want to say doctors need to stop acting like gods and show their humanity, we have to give them the room to do so.