How The Hell Did Our Parents Keep Us Alive Without Google?
On December 13, 2018 at 6.17pm my daughter was born. By 6.45pm I had Googled “What is a sacral dimple?”
The midwives discovered it when she was born. We all know what happens when you Google your symptoms. “I have a headache.” It’s a brain tumour! “I’ve got a sore toe.” It’s gangrene. “Tickle in my throat.” You’ve got cancer of the larynx.
Of course I came across some very alarming possibilities because I decided to use good old Doctor Google. I then spent the next 24 hours panicking that my poor daughter was going to have to either have surgery or be affected by this crippling spinal issue for her entire life, so nothing too serious.
Needless to say, once the real doctors had a look, she was completely fine and all was perfectly normal.
My wife stayed in hospital for two nights with our new baby, surrounded by some very lovely and knowledgeable midwives and nurses who were all just the push of a button away. But after two nights with this safety blanket, it was time to take our daughter home.
