diagnosing silence
March 16, 2014 § 4 Comments
This past week I found myself caught in a moment’s pause, trying to give voice to faith in the clinical space of our doctor’s office. From the earliest stages of our son’s diagnoses, there was an implicit trust in the wisdom of our doctor’s experience and knowledge. Just as we introduced our child to this stranger in search of explanations, we were introduced to unfamiliar needs that would come to shadow our experiences lending insight to intimate challenges.
Last Wednesday, in the familiar space of our doctor’s office, I felt doubt in expertise and certainty in things unproven. The intangible instincts of parenthood informed by situations and experiences catalogued with care became evidence of something greater than the volumes of medical knowledge slumbering in our company. Nudged from silence into conflict I heard my voice cautioning our doctor’s certainty with my own; respectfully, but with faith in something unproven.
Grand ideas and daydreams too easily dismissed as symptoms of a disease were in sharp contrast to memories that hint at knowledge outside our understanding. Our doctor dwelled on education and resources as distinguishing factors between fact and fantasy; an ability to physically manifest the ideas our son shares so enthusiastically imperative to a clinical determination.
I stood in the undefined place of possibility, recalling ideas that have all too often appeared years after our son’s suggestion in scientific magazines that litter our home; inventions that even without an advanced education he could predict and without resources he could imagine. I heard echos of conversations past, shared with professional scientists I could not understand, but who met our son’s questions respectfully with interest and appreciation. My husband added his voice to these memories and I watched as our doctor joined us, mutual respect and appreciation for the individuality of our son’s unique abilities and needs have created a place of possibility in place of clinical certainty.
Days later this exchange still lingers in my mind, cautioning against silence in place of certainty and the threat of misunderstanding unfamiliar experiences as something incorrect. Watching our doctor dance between certain diagnosis and an uncertain error, I gave thanks for humility in fallibility. Looking to our son I am reminded of the beauty of our dreams and the trajectory of a life unbound by predetermined boundaries.
To my son, There will be moments when the momentum of others’ assumptions and experiences will inform understanding. You must not be afraid to push against certainty with the force of your own doubts. The world is full of those who cannot imagine change without first knowing proof, do not be afraid to move in certainty against their doubts. Love, Mom
scribblechic 
I like the approach you look to the whole thing. Yes, in the analysis the doctor is not an Oracle but, rather, a trusted fourth party, one with knowledge and expertise that will guide–not dominate–the decisions and subsequent actions.
Thank you, Maurice. Over the years respect, curiosity, and awareness have been essential elements in each conversation and, ultimately, each decision.
love your note at the end to your son… it sings with compassion and an understanding of the world to come to him.
Thank you, Mike. It is a comedy of errors, parenting, the persistent pushing and pulling. One minute we hold our children close and the next we nudge them into discomfort watching with both fear and hope for what we know of the world around us, trusting we have fortified them with enough self-confidence and love to navigate difficult moments.