I had a doctor's appointment this morning--I've had this little bitty bruise on my back for a couple of months now. It's the type of thing that I won't notice for a couple of months, and then I'll lean back in a chair and feel pain and think, "That's STILL there?!" I wasn't sure if it was from softball--maybe where the bat hits my back when I swing? But the bruise is so small (less than a half an inch), and the placement isn't quite right. Anyway, I told Justin that I'd just feel better if someone laid eyes on it, so I saw the nurse practitioner this morning.
She looked at it, and said, "Hmmmm. I've never seen anything like that before." Then, she called in my doctor. He said, "I've never even seen anything quite like that, even in textbooks," (I laughed, because that's just so me--I'm the girl whose appendicitis went undiagnosed because my appendix was in the wrong place. I'm the girl who had a breast tumor removed at age 19. I'm just kind of a medical anomaly.) The nurse said, "Yeah, and it doesn't blanch. It's sort of like a hematoma under the skin." They referred me to a dermatologist--they warned me that it would probably take 3 months to get in, but happily, the derm had an opening on the 18th. And largely, I didn't worry too much about it for the rest of the day...
And then. THEN. When I got home tonight, I consulted Dr. Google. Why do I do this? I *know* it's never a good idea, but I do it anyway. I Googled something about a hematoma that doesn't blanch, and what was starting me back in the face was enough to scare anybody's socks off--Leukemia. Meningitis. Lupus. All sorts of other things that I just don't want to deal with. And the worry and fear just came pouring in. Even though nothing really looked like my unique little bruise, it seems that anything that doesn't blanch is bad, bad, bad....according to Dr. Google anyway.
Why in the world do I think that Google will be able to diagnose me more effectively than the doctor who has literally known me my entire life? Better than a doctor who knows all my weird history, and was literally the only medical professional in my corner back during the tumor debacle?
More importantly, why don't I pray if I'm worried? I've seen firsthand in my life over the past year what a difference God has made in terms of my worries and fears, so why don't I turn to Him first, rather than Google?
Dr. Google, I think it's time we break up. Hopefully this time it's for good.