When Guidelines Forget the Child In Clinical Context: Friendship Saves The Day

Friday 6th February 2026 was meant to be a simple, happy day — one filled with friendship — and in many ways, it was… just wrapped around hospital corridors, protocols, and long waits.

Maya had been nil by mouth since 10pm the night before for her bone marrow biopsy and aspirate (BMAT) and lumbar puncture (LP). She was second on the morning list, but by 9am everything went pear-shaped. The consultant anaesthetist refused to take her down until a urine pregnancy test had been completed.

What made this especially hard to understand was that just the week before, on 27th January, Maya had undergone an MRI of her head and whole spine. While it is GOSH guideline to request a urine pregnancy test for all female patients aged 12 and over, the consultant anaesthetist at that time had used common sense and clinical context: Maya is pre-menarchal, has never had a period, and has been an inpatient since 28th October 2025. Pregnancy had already been reasonably ruled out.

Still, on Friday, we waited. And waited. For a wee wee!!!

So when Maya’s other best friend, Loxley, arrived with his lovely mum Esther at Lion Ward around 10:45am, Maya was still there — hungry, tired, and waiting to be taken down to theatre. Had she gone in at 9am, we would have been finished by midday or early afternoon. Maya had plans: she wanted to show Loxley the Brunswick Centre — Amorino ice cream, bubble tea, and of course, the arcade.

After theatre, recovery took longer than expected. When Maya finally stirred, the very first word she cried out was “Loxley.” I asked the nurse if he could come into recovery — it was honestly the only way she would calm down — and seeing her face soften when she saw him made every delay fade for a moment.

We didn’t return to the ward until 2:30pm, followed by a strict schedule of observations: half-hourly for two hours, then hourly for the next two. By then, it looked like we wouldn’t be allowed out until 6:30pm. Maya was visibly upset. After some gentle but determined negotiating, we were finally allowed to leave the cubicle at 5pm.

Just as we stepped out, the Neuro-Muscular Consultant was standing at the door. I politely asked if she could come back next week. It was Friday early evening, nothing would change over the weekend, and Maya’s best friend had travelled all the way from Kent since early morning just to see her. It was agreed — she would be reviewed on Monday afternoon (9th February).

The highlights of the day? UNO card games. A pink donut-shaped, strawberry-scented mouse pressie. And the most precious gift of all — a framed poem titled “The Three Musketeers,” written by Loxley just for Maya.

Because even with procedures, protocols, and hospital rules in the way, friendship still finds a way.

Childhood cancer may steal time and energy, but it cannot touch the cute, unconditionally loyal love between two children who show up for each other — no matter the circumstances.

Thank you Loxley and Esther for the visit!