Jumping Ship

"Sometimes, it's the smallest decisions that can change your life forever."

On September 3rd, 2009, a few months after Kennedy turned 7 years old, we made the trek to Duke Children's Clinic and met with Dr. Marcus, chief pediatric plastic surgeon. I have to wonder if he regrets the day we ever walked through that door.

Now remember, I had exhausted my research at this point. I was unhappy at UNC. I was overwhelmed with where to turn next. So although I had hope that this might be a good path for us, I wasn't holding my breath. And then something amazing happened. Kennedy spoke to him. And then she actually talked to him.

Let me explain something about Kennedy and her medical journey. I'm assuming you've read the last blog, the Backstory. So you know she's been to hell and back several times in her life by this point. Her coping mechanism is, and has been since she was a baby, to go inside of herself the minute a nurse or doctor enters an exam room. She goes silent, never uttering a single word until we're back safe in the car. Her pediatricians learned to stand outside the door and listen to her conversation with me before coming in, just so they had confirmation that she knew how to talk and to gauge her speech issues. It took Dr. Mankin (her orthopedic surgeon since birth) eight years to even get her to wave hi or bye to him. So when she started muttering words to Dr. Marcus on this very first time of meeting him, it was like witnessing an alien, something so foreign to me that I couldn't even process it at first.

And I think that was my omen. My omen that maybe it was time to take the road less traveled, time to jump ship. But now the hard part...convincing Dr. Marcus that he should take Kennedy on as a patient. Because when you're that important in your field, when you're that good, it is your choice who you operate on. He was honest with us from minute one...Kennedy was a complicated case, unlike most others with this syndrome due to her ear canal and ear bowl; he was a perfectionist and wanted to give only perfection; with her anatomy, he wouldn't be able to give perfection but maybe he could come close.

So he took his pictures, his measurements, his notes. And we left. We left with needing to make the decision of whether to jump ship from UNC to Duke. We left him with needing to make the decision of whether to take Kennedy on as a patient or not. And then we waited. And we thought. And we rationalized. And we slept on it.

And then I probably made one of the best (albeit extremely difficult) decisions in this journey. I decided that we would go back to Dr. Marcus. That we would indeed jump ship. And luckily in the meantime, Dr. Marcus agreed to take Kennedy as a patient. Sometimes though I wonder if I was secretly hoping he wouldn't agree. Jumping ship didn't just mean a new doctor. It meant a new hospital where we had never been. A new anesthesia and ICU team who didn't know Kennedy. A new Child Life Specialist who wasn't aware of how Kennedy handles her medical life. A new face for my baby girl. It was a completely new journey for us, a journey not taken lightly. I will admit that jumping ship and moving forward with ear reconstruction was one of the most difficult, stressful decisions that I've made thus far on this journey with Kennedy. But usually in the end, those decisions are the best.

And so we prepared. We met with the anesthesia team, armed with all of her records from past surgeries. We met with the Child Life Specialist to learn the ins and outs of Duke Children's Hospital. We met with Dr. Marcus to make final plans. And we scheduled Kennedy's first ear reconstruction surgery for October 8, 2010. After 8.5 years of thinking about it, stressing over it, dreaming of it, anticipating it...we were actually taking the step.

(NEXT BLOG: A Mother's Instinct is Seldom Wrong)