You are allowed to leave without agreeing
People consent to foot surgery in the same appointment it was proposed, having asked nothing, because it feels rude not to and because nobody told them there was another option. There is. Below is what to establish first. Tick what you can already answer, and whatever is left blank is your list.
What can you actually answer?
Tick only what you could explain to someone else, unprompted. Being generous with yourself here defeats the purpose.
Tick what you could answer right now, in your own words, without looking anything up. The blanks are the point. They are the questions to take back into the room.
The four that do the most work
“What are we trading?” Every foot operation gives something up. Ask directly what will be permanently different afterwards, and keep asking until you get a specific answer instead of a reassuring one. If the reply is that nothing is lost, that is itself information.
“What happens if we do nothing for a year?” This separates urgent from elective, and most clubfoot surgery is elective. A surgeon who can explain what deteriorates and how fast is giving you a real reason. One who cannot may be recommending something reasonable that simply is not time-critical.
“What does a good result look like, in things I would notice?” Not an angle on an X-ray. Can I stand a full shift? Will I run? Will my child play football? Radiographic correction and lived improvement are not the same thing, and it is the second one you are buying.
“How many of these do you do a year?” The awkward one, and the one most worth asking. Clubfoot is uncommon enough that experience varies enormously between surgeons. Good ones answer without offense; a defensive reaction to a fair question tells you something.
If nobody can tell you what is being given up, nobody has properly told you what the operation is.
Answers that should slow you down
None of these means a surgeon is wrong. All of them mean the conversation is not finished.
“We will decide once we are in there.” Sometimes genuinely necessary, and you should still know the range of possibilities and have consented to each.
“It will make the foot normal.” It will not. Feet that have had clubfoot do not become feet that never had it.
“There is no alternative.” There is nearly always the alternative of waiting, and usually a conservative option that has not been exhausted.
“You need to decide today.” For clubfoot, very rarely true. Ask what specifically changes if you take a month.
Vagueness about recovery. If nobody can tell you how long you will be non-weight-bearing, you cannot plan work, childcare or income around it, and those turn out to matter enormously.
If you are deciding for a child
Everything above applies, and a few things are specific. Ask what happens as the foot keeps growing, because a child’s foot will change after the operation in ways an adult’s will not. Ask whether this is likely to be the only procedure or the first of several. That answer shapes the whole decision. Ask what the recovery means practically: time in a cast, time off school, what you will be doing at home.
And where the child is old enough to have a view, get it. Not a veto, but a view. I was operated on twice before I could weigh anything, which was appropriate and is simply how it was. What I would say is that a nine-year-old who understands why something is happening carries it very differently from one who does not.
People also ask
Before clubfoot surgery
What should I ask before clubfoot surgery?
Can I decline or delay surgery?
Is it rude to ask how many operations a surgeon has done?
What answers should make me pause?
What is different when deciding for a child?
Should I get the plan in writing?
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