It started one evening with some eye discharge and a slight fever. By morning, his eye was so swollen he could barely open it. And so, after much deliberation with myself, I made the call to his pediatrician and brought my little cyclops in.
It is an issue that I have spent much (too much) time stressing over: When is it “legit” to call your pediatrician?
I always swore I would not be the mom who frantically calls her pediatrician ten times a day at the first sign of sniffles. And while I thought I had succeeded in avoiding this stereotype, I realized I had merely modernized it. I am a mom with a wicked case of OCG: obsessive compulsive Googling.
I have been afflicted with OCG since early in university, when I realized the wealth of quasi-accurate facts and diverse opinion that was at my fingertips. It started innocent enough – a quick check to see the name of so-and-so who played what’s his face in that movie. It grew into a need to check facts and disprove people in arguments. But during pregnancy, I found I was constantly checking to see if what I was experiencing was “normal”. And when the munchkin was born, I began checking to see if everything he was experiencing was normal. Unfortunately, this habit spawned a minor case of hypochondria along the way. I Googled when I thought his legs were too curved. I Googled when i thought he spat up too much. I Googled every time his poop colour and consistency changed (my pre-baby self never dreamed that I would ever study and ponder my child’s poop). I am the crazy pediatrician-calling mom of the 21st century.
So in the end, the doctor checked out little E and diagnosed him with a “minor viral infection” (the next day, when he woke up crusted in his own snot I realized “minor viral infection” was doctor code for “nasty cold”). And while I felt stupid and cliche the next day for bringing my baby in for a cold, there was a certain peace of mind I got out of it that no amount of Googling can ever really replace.