Recently, it's been very cold in Wuhan, but the outpatient clinic is bustling with activity. The waiting area is filled with parents from all over the country, yet the atmosphere remains quiet, with everyone being careful to maintain the expected silence of a hospital.
The door opened, and a child entered, followed by two women.
"Dr. Chen, could you please take off your mask?"The speaker was the child's aunt.
I thought I had misheard. Why would the first thing they say upon entering be asking me to remove my mask? I took off my mask and looked at the other woman, the child's mother.
The mother has a hearing impairment and needed to read my lips to understand what I was saying.
Consultation
The situation wasn't too bad. Though the mother needed to read lips, she could still communicate verbally.
"There's no signal, no signal…"
The child's right thumb showed obvious deviation, and I needed to review their X-rays. However, the photos stored on the mother's phone weren't loading, making her anxious and raising her voice in frustration.
Consultation
I reassured her not to worry and explained that the poor signal might be due to being indoors, suggesting she check her phone outside.
After she stepped out, the aunt shared that they had traveled all the way from the northeast. The child, now 10 years old and in third grade.
With this brief pause, I adjusted my mindset. The remainder of the consultation proceeded smoothly. I spoke directly to the mother, making sure she could clearly see my lips, and occasionally used drawings to help her understand.
The child's right thumb was diagnosed with epiphyseal overgrowth. Currently, it wasn't significantly affecting hand function. I recommended waiting until the child turned 18 before considering surgery.
The mother had her concerns. After reading my lips, she expressed her desire to improve the appearance of the child's hand.
"Does it really have to wait until 18?"
After asking, she leaned on the desk, letting out a long sigh-clearly hoping the surgery could be done immediately.
The child reached over and made a gesture to comfort their mother.
The mother lifted her head and gently patted the child's arm:"Will you grow up feeling self-conscious? Your dad and I are practically like deaf-mutes, and now your hand has turned out this way…"
The child didn't say anything but smiled, squinting their eyes.
Protected by their family's love, the child seemed unbothered by their condition. When the mother stepped out again, I asked the child if they wanted surgery. They shook their head and said no.
Consultation
The child's epiphyseal overgrowth wasn't particularly severe and didn't significantly impact hand function. Surgery could safely wait until him bones were fully developed, which would also reduce the risks.
The child was very well-adjusted and showed no signs of insecurity stemming from their parents' condition. As a medical professional, I was deeply moved by the conversation between this mother and child. I call on society to extend more care and attention to these individuals in need, rather than marginalizing them with judgmental looks.