“She’s good”, I said when he asked,
although he really had no idea because he had not been there for most of the last month.
Or the month before ;
could not comprehend what we had been through.
He had come once, after surgery but she was still groggy
so, she wouldn’t count that
and frankly, neither would I.
He took the stethoscope from around his neck.
“How have you been, princess?” he asked
but she would not look at him.
Instead she looked downwards
and turned her back to him
and then climbed into my lap.
I stood up and held her.
She squeezed so tightly.
“It’s okay” I crooned, “you know the paed, you know him”.
He worked quickly then, checked her over.
Still she would not acknowledge him,
her face giving nothing and everything away.
and maybe a little weary of him too -
she had lost her trust, her faith,
he had lost his rapport
and he knew it.
The paed had always been a ‘safe’ person for Ivy.
He was always someone who made her feel ‘better’
but he had not been there for her this time,
when she needed him,
when she was scared,
when she felt awful.
He let her down.
He tried all of his usual charming tricks, he said all of the right things
but the girl did not budge.
Her face remained sullen, her eyes cast to the ground.
I can’t help feeling that maybe, just maybe
he deserved it.