I Made a Mistake
And you will too. How do we deal with that?
Every Christmas I’m reminded of a mistake I made when treating a patient. The reminder comes from the patient herself. This year, like every year since, she showed me what compassion looks like.
I am once again humbled by the awesome responsibility that I have to care for you. Merry Christmas.
Ten years ago, I made a mistake on a patient’s radiation plan.
My partners and I, like so many medical practices, did not have an established peer review process at the time. Luckily, I was in the habit of reviewing my own cases the first week of treatment, so I caught it after only three days under beam.
It did not affect the patient’s overall chance for cure or cause any harm. It did mean, however, that I had to modify the plan and explain to the patient why I was adding a few more days of radiation.
I was so nervous the next morning as I waited for her to arrive at our clinic. I anticipated anger and likely a request to switch to another doctor. Completely understandable, I thought.
Instead, when I admitted my mistake, she told me that she was grateful. That I must care deeply about her to have kept thinking about her case and she trusted me completely.
The magnanimity of her response floored me. How could this be?
She finished her treatments just before Christmas and I scheduled a one month follow up visit after the holidays.
I was therefore surprised to see her and her daughters walking down our clinic hallway on Christmas Eve carrying a box of Christmas cookies and a card. To say that I was emotional is an understatement.
Afterwards, even though she was no longer my patient, each December I could count on a white bakery box full of yummy treats, a card overflowing with gratitude and a hug from her.
Years later when I changed practices, I figured that would be the end of that. Imagine my surprise when I got a call from the front desk of my new office that she had tracked me down. And there she was. Holding a white bakery box, tied with festive string, and topped with a heartfelt card. It had been a long and crazy year, so I was particularly grateful for her kindness.
This week, she emailed me to let me know that my goodies were ready and could we meet. It’s been ten years, she said, since you made the decision that saved my life.
As we talked, I thought about the moment before I opened that exam room door over a decade ago. I can still feel the shame. And the gift of mercy that she gave me instead.
Over the years, I’ve gotten more comfortable saying that I've made a mistake and welcomed that admission in others, partly due to the grace with which my first professional mistake was handled by this patient.
(I've also become a huge proponent of prospective peer review that allows other eyes to catch these errors before they reach the patient.)
As you reflect on the past year and decide what to carry into the next, I hope that you are given grace for your mistakes.
And that you consider forgiving someone else.
Perhaps even yourself.
Merry Christmas to all who are mistaken. And to all who forgive.
Stacy ☃
Traveling for the holidays? A long drive is the PERFECT time to catch up on my docuseries, Less Radical.
Featured on NPR, The Guardian and Amazon, you will want to binge all six episodes! Download on your favorite podcast app or click 👇 to start listening now!
On My Mind…
I stumbled upon this podcast that detailed how “A Charlie Brown Christmas” came together. If you, like me, have loved this story of friendship and the true meaning of Christmas, you can listen here or click below.
This is a beautiful piece ❤️
LOVE THIS! Admitting a mistake means we are human. My latest (and successful!) surgery a month ago finally closed a fistula from a colon perf from a burst tic and a long year (to the day!). My surgeon made an error in July trying to close me up which led to several endoscopic trials with clips, to no avail. I was grateful when my surgeon agreed to another trial to close me / he had taken the entire day for me. Afterward, I was closed and he admitted an error of accidentally cutting my small intestine which resulted in an anastomosis. That same error occurred in July. I told him truthfully I trusted nobody else in my belly regardless of an error that was quickly repaired. I ended up buying him a pair of Superman socks to wear for difficult cases. Apparently his GI Joe socks that he wore for my surgery were his prior pair for tough cases. I hope he feels the same as you do, as I have freedom today I’ve never experienced! I’d rather have a human working on me any day and twice on Sunday over someone who had never made a surgical error. A person in our field, who has never made an error hasn’t been in our field very long. Godspeed and happy holidays, Doctor Wentworth!