Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
Friday. Auckland Med. Hospital
Terry
“An osteotomy?” I stared across the desk at Hannah’s doctor who looked as gutted breaking the news as I felt receiving it.
Pauline Lance was a delightful forty-something, smart-as-a-whip Samoan surgeon with shining black hair and a laugh that could topple Hadrian’s Wall. She was also a goddess to people who lived with JIA, and Hannah was lucky to have her as one of her doctors.
It was late afternoon, at the end of a long day of scans and tests, and Hannah’s mood had dropped noticeably with every hour that passed. When we finally made it into Pauline’s office, Hannah sat silent throughout the doctor’s detailed explanation of the results and why Pauline felt surgery could no longer be avoided.
At her words, Hannah’s hand wrapped around mine in an iron grip. “It’s okay, Dad.” She swallowed hard, her eyes brimming with tears. “It’s not like we didn’t kind of know it already.”
But the devastation on her face told a different story and my heart broke all over again. “Doesn’t make it any easier though, poppet, does it? You deal with enough pain without adding surgery and recovery to the list.”
She squeezed my hand again. “Dr Lance said it might not be so bad.”
“Dr Lance doesn’t know that for sure.” I threw Pauline an accusing look and she shrugged apologetically.
But Hannah’s doctor was made of stern stuff and had no doubt faced many a disgruntled parent in her time. “ Dr Lance—” Pauline repeated with a quirk to her lips. “—does have a teeny tiny bit of experience in this field and I can tell you this much, Hannah. The injury to your knee was made a lot worse by the existing poor state of the joint. And that joint isn’t going to miraculously repair itself given time, which means you’ll continue to be vulnerable to further damage. So, the choice is pretty simple. Unless you want to protect the joint by curtailing all risky physical activity , including dance, then you need to consider surgery. And my advice would be to get it done as quickly as possible. Just remember that not every person with JIA is suitable for this surgery, so you’re lucky in that regard. But the decision is ultimately down to both of you.”
The blood drained from Hannah’s face. “I can’t stop dancing, Dad. I just... can’t. We have to try this. Please? We have to.” Her eyes pleaded.
Like I had a fucking choice. If we didn’t try the surgery, try to keep Hannah dancing, she’d be devastated. My gaze switched to Pauline. “I need to know exactly what’s involved.”
Pauline nodded. “The aim of the osteotomy is to transfer weight from the arthritic part of the knee to a healthier area and also correct the alignment. If it’s successful, it should prolong the life of the knee and delay the need for a joint replacement by years, hopefully. And Hannah should be able to return to all her previous activities—” She looked at Hannah. “—including dance, and maybe even with more movement than you had before.”
I narrowed my gaze. “There’s a lot of ifs and shoulds in there.”
Pauline shrugged. “What can I tell you? There aren’t any guarantees.”
We exchanged knowing glances. “So, what’s the downside then?”
Pauline sighed. “The pain is less predictable than with a replacement.”
“Meaning it’s worse,” I stated flatly.
“For some, yes,” she agreed, and Hannah’s hand clenched around mine. “Others do fine. But the recovery is longer as well—up to six weeks before she can weight bear again.”
Hannah groaned. “Six weeks! Jeeeeezzz.”
But Pauline wasn’t done. “It could also make replacement surgery down the line more... challenging.”
Wonderful. “And if she doesn’t have the surgery?”
Pauline’s expression softened. “Then we carry on like we are. Hannah will have to take extra care of her knee, and we’ll increase her drug dosages to see if we can get the pain under control. After that, we wait. She might improve, she might not.”
“You’re not exactly a ray of sunshine,” I grumbled.
“I’m sorry.” Pauline directed her attention to Hannah. “I really wish I could offer you better news, but you know almost as much about this stuff as I do by now, and you know it’s not that easy.”
“Dammit.” I fell back in my chair. “So, when would you want to do the surgery?”
Pauline turned to her computer screen and started scrolling. “Let me see. I could fit you in next Tuesday if that works. I had a replacement surgery cancelled due to an infection, but it’s your call.”
Less than a week and just before Christmas. Oh joy.
Pauline kept scrolling. “After that, with Christmas and New Year coming up, the next slot I can offer you is in February.” She spun back to face us and waited.
“February!” Hannah looked aghast. “But that would put me out for most of the first term. Will I still be able to go to Nolan?”
Pauline’s gaze shot to mine. “You want my thoughts?”
“May as well.”
Pauline nodded. “Okay, well, all I can say is that if you have the surgery now and if it’s successful, I don’t see it interfering with attending Nolan, although you won’t be dancing that first term regardless. But as your dad said, there are a lot of uncertainties in there.”
I wanted to scream that of course she wasn’t bloody going to Nolan , that I was going to nurse her at home and we’d take things super slow . That I’d need to be one hundred per cent sure before I let her out of my sight .
But then I remembered Spencer’s words, and Judah’s, and I saw the misery and disappointment in Hannah’s eyes as she watched and waited, no doubt expecting me to say exactly that, and I couldn’t do it.
Instead, I took her other hand in mine and pulled her around to face me. “It’s your body and you heard everything Pauline said, just like I did. So, what do you think? I have an opinion, but I want to hear your thoughts first.”
The stunned beaming smile Hannah bestowed on me almost made the whole damn disaster worthwhile. “Really? I can decide?”
I returned her smile, if a little more forced, and corrected her gently. “Not entirely by yourself, but yes, I want to know what you think. You’re the one who has to go through the surgery and you understand there are no guarantees. You might end up with less flexibility, not more. You might not make it to Nolan, anyway. But I’ll be there for you either way.”
Out of the corner of my eye I caught Pauline’s nod in approval.
I expected Hannah to leap for the surgery option, but she surprised me. Instead, she asked a few more questions about pain relief and rehabilitation and future options if it didn’t work—the exact same questions that were running circles in my own head. I’d underestimated her again. When would I learn?
With her questions answered, Hannah sat quiet for a moment, then turned to me. “I want to try the surgery. It’s my only chance to get my life back like it was and hopefully still go to Nolan. If it doesn’t work, I’ll have wasted time, but I won’t have lost anything. If I don’t have the surgery, I’ll always wonder if I made a mistake.”
I stared at my daughter until my eyes filled and my heart hurt with pride. “If that’s what you want, then I guess we’re doing the surgery.”
“Thanks, Dad,” Hannah said thickly, her eyes welling.
“Right, I’ll get it organised.” Pauline started typing on her keyboard.
I dropped to my knees at Hannah’s side and enveloped her in my arms. “I am so proud of you, baby girl. I love you so much. I have a good feeling about this.”
She held me just as tight but I could feel her trembling. “I love you too.”
We were both quiet on the way back to the car, but as we were pulling out of the parking building, Hannah turned to me.
“Can I tell Judah and Spencer?”
I blinked but kept my eyes glued to the busy road. Telling Judah, I understood, but wanting to tell Spencer? “I’ll be talking with Spencer later,” I offered.
“But I want to be the one to tell him,” Hannah countered. “He’s my friend too, Dad.”
I turned to find her wearing a cheeky smile.
I would’ve laughed if I hadn’t been too busy trying not to cry.