A LICENSE TO WONDER:

It was the hairline fracture heard across the maternity ward.

Just a tiny crack in their newborn's femur.

But to these new parents, it felt like the entire world was shattering.

They had gotten so much advice before the delivery—all about finding the right obstetrician, preparing for birth, and prioritizing rest and nutrition for mom. But there was no guidance on what to do if something went wrong.

We don't talk about that, do we?

We go into these profoundly vulnerable experiences expecting everything to be perfect. And when it's not, we're left feeling utterly powerless and alone in our suffering, like we missed some obvious warning sign that could've prevented this.

So they did what any overwhelmed parent would do—they started asking questions—lots of them.

How did this happen?

How common is an injury like this during delivery?

What did we miss?

What are the long-term impacts?

What's the treatment plan?

Simply put, they demanded to understand.

Instead of receiving reassurance and transparency, they were met with curt replies and icy stares. It was as if they were wondering why they made them bad parents as if wanting to be informed was ungrateful or, worse, irresponsible. It was like asking questions during COVID.

But here's the thing - it's neither of those things.

It's being human.

Whether you're bringing new life into the world or going under the knife, you're being brave. You're exposing your fragile self to important procedures and interventions that hugely impact your life.

You're entitled to ask as many questions as you need to be at peace with those interventions.

The best physicians embrace questions, are reassuring, and do everything in their power for the benefit of the patient and their families.

In fact, that's their chance to build trust through empathy, transparency, and compassionate explanation. To show up truly present instead of hiding behind credentials or best practices.

Defensive doctors, on the other hand, damage trust.

They alienate the very people under their care and expertise. They break the bond that every intervention demands - the willingness to make yourself vulnerable, hoping you're being made whole.

It's worth remembering that medicine is still an art as much as a science. And even physicians and their teams need to learn more.

Our bodies are miraculously unique, and our understanding of them will forever be a work in progress. Unexpected things happen, and we should humble ourselves to talk about them without fear of recrimination.

Healthcare would do far better to embrace questions' vital role in the healing process. Our bewilderment, uncertainty, and curiosity aren't barriers to great care. They are the greatest opportunities to show up in equal courage and remind ourselves why we signed up for this calling.

If my kid got sick from the cafeteria lunch, would it be unreasonable to ask how the food was prepared? Isn't that a parent's prerogative? To wonder aloud and seek information so we can prevent a repeat occurrence?

If I renovated my home but it leaked whenever it rained, wouldn't I want to understand how this mistake happened? Isn't that the bare minimum accountability I'm owed?

We give ourselves permission to dig deeper into so much else that impacts our lives. Why should we be made to simply accept opaque processes and results regarding our physical selves?

When we become victims of rare adverse events, of course, we'll ask every question under the sun. We'd be negligent not to. At a minimum, we deserve to understand what happened, why it happened, and how we can recover from it as fully as possible.

There's a difference between demanding answers and being combative or reckless. An earnest listener can hear it in our tone - we pursue understanding and catharsis through open inquiry, not accusation.

Reasonable people can disagree on treatment plans or weigh risks differently. That's a conversation to be had, not a prompt to start labeling each other as uninformed contrarians.

If anything, it's far more dangerous for healthcare experts to shut down hard questions without validating the pain and anxiety behind them. That's how faith erodes, how cynicism is born.

We're all in this together, doing our imperfect best to care for one another through the inherent risks of being alive. The first step is realizing how much courage patients and doctors must bring to every interaction - and meeting that bravery with equal parts wisdom and vulnerability.

If you've made it your life's work to heal, then you've got to be open to confronting the hurts and questions head-on.

We must go beyond treating the symptoms and start repairing the violated trust at the core of our fears.

For as long as there is curiosity, there must be permission to wonder.
It's how we make progress as fragile beings made whole.

Always embrace the hard questions!

-Rojas out.