I just returned from Mended Little Hearts's third annual CHD Symposium and am, overall, energized and excited about the things that are coming. I saw friends of old, met lots of new people, helped shape conversations about the needs and desires of the larger body, and made suggestions that people indicated were helpful and spurred potential chance and work in various areas. I was feeling like a catalyst for good and for change and was so excited that I felt well enough to go and that I had two wonderful women to carpool with so I was able to make the trip. We are making plans to expand our local group with me taking on a larger role and potentially even a coordinator position depending on how the current leadership votes.
The odd part came when I recognized one of the speakers as someone I had attended school with, who was part of a group of people that had managed to make middle school and high school very difficult for me. The speaker spoke about a topic that I wanted to ask further questions about, but I couldn't do it. In that moment, I again felt like a teenager and all I could do was hope that the person did not see me in that room of 122+ attendees and speakers and, if they did, they did not recognize me. I considered emailing the person, but I became concerned that even emailing might reveal my identity. I thought long and hard about what to do, but it came down to this. Medical care is all about trust. You must trust the providers, procedures, medications, devices, etc. every aspect of care when it comes medicine. This is doubly true when it comes to your children. And I simply cannot trust this person. I cannot trust that they will not remember me; that they would not do something to spite me. I realize that this says more about me than it does about them, but it doesn't change how I feel.
At the same time, they may very well be a different person now than they were in high school, so there is no reason to destroy the trust others have placed in this person over actions they made when they were a teenager. And although I do not trust this person, I remember that they are smart, and I can trust that. So, I will not cut off an avenue of treatment for Mira simply because I had a bad experience with someone in high school. So I will not reveal who they are. And I will not reveal this person's actions to Mira. If Mira should come across this person in her care as an adult and feel she can trust them, that will be her decision to make. I will not make it for her. But for the next 13 years, while it is my decision to make, I will look for an alternative way for her to benefit from the topic without having to directly contact the speaker, whether by using Mira's own care providers as go-betweens, or finding another solution.
But in the meantime, this unexpected coincidence has left me pondering. If there are no coincidences, why did this happen? Why did this "safe space," this place where I have found meaning and purpose, become sullied by the taint of old high school memories? Maybe it's something as simple as an opportunity to let go of some of this emotional stuff that's still hanging on. Honestly, though, I'd have rather it just stayed buried.
