Google I Hate You

This week has reminded me why I started my blog.

It has reminded me of the agony of not knowing, of an uncertain future, of wanting clarity.

When your child is ill, or struggling in some way, you want answers. You want to know what the problem is. You want to find a way of helping them.

The reality is though, that wheels turn slowly. Monitoring is involved. Data is needed. Experts want to be sure.

And I’m glad about that.

I’m glad people aren’t rushing in doing unnecessary tests. I’m glad they are making reassuring noises. And I’m glad they are still able to be rational.

Or at least my rational self is.

Unfortunately though right now, I do not feel rational. Every ounce of my being is screaming in fear.

I know he will probably be ok. I know we are hoping that everything we are seeing now is just caused by a virus.

But no one can tell us for sure.

And what if it isn’t?

What if it’s more.

You see to counteract those rational voices, there is Google.

And Google is scary.

Google is really scary.

For every story of hope, there are ten more of fear.

Google is full of things I do not want to know. It is full of things I do not want to read.

And yet I read them still.

Because I need answers. And in the dead of night it is Google them tempts me in, with its lure of answers, its promises of truth.

And I am reminded of other times I’ve turned to her, the temptress on my phone.

Of the pain she caused.

Of why I blog.

So that in the dead of night another mum will find solidarity rather than fear. So that another mum will be saved. In the hope that rationality will be restored, for me and for her

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