I don’t know which is worse: taking your kid to the doctor because you think he has a problem, only to have the doctor look at you blankly as you clumsily try to explain why you think your perfectly normal child is defective, or taking your kid to the doctor because you think he has a problem – and being right.
Part of me is really grateful that I didn’t bundle up my children and herd them onto the train in sub-freezing temperatures just to be told (in so many words/facial expressions) that I am paranoid/overly-sensitive/hovering/crazy.
The other part of me thinks that being grateful that my child has a borderline hearing problem simply because it made bundling up my children and herding them onto the the train in sub-freezing temperatures “worth it” is, not to put too fine a point on it, silly.
But I suppose there is a middle ground here. Yes, Oliver has been driving us nuts the past few weeks with his “What? What? What? I can’t hear you!” routine (even when we are standing 3 feet away and looking straight at him) and yes, he does have fluid in his ears (likely from the monster cold he had during Christmas vacation). But it’s just fluid in his ears. It is just a borderline problem.
I am glad we were not being paranoid. And I’m glad it’s not too serious.
We’ve been treating it with some garlic/basil oil (as much as he’ll let us) and it seems to be doing some good. At least, he hasn’t complained that he can’t hears us, and that makes us all very happy.