To Err on the Side of Caution

Most of you know that when it comes to personal health and safety, I'm not exactly a risk taker. I don't do drugs, I don't smoke, and I don't drink and drive, not even a little bit, not even once. It's true that I have played indoor volleyball without kneepads, but I did so more with trepidation than with stoic athleticism.
So, this morning, when we couldn't wake baby Morgen no matter what we did, and when the question was: do we wait it out until 10:00am when the pediatric clinic opens, or do we call Telehealth right away, the answer was certain. We called Telehealth. (For those of you who do not live in Ontario, Telehealth is a free, 24-hour service that allows you to speak with a registered nurse about your health concerns. It's supposed to improve general public health by providing a trustworthy source of information, and is intended to reduce uneccessary visits to the emergency room.)
We've called Telehealth three times since Morgen was born. The first time, the nurse suggested that we go to the emergency department, and after four or five hours a doctor said "You're first time parents, aren't you? This [pointing to the huge pile of diapers that had accumulated in only one hour] is completely normal. You'll be back next week thinking she's constipated." We were duly chastened. The second time, the Telehealth nurse reassured us that Morgen was in no immediate danger, and told us to see a doctor at a clinic the next day. The doctor said that the condition was "viral" and would pass in a week or so. I like to think that Telehealth got that one right. This morning, the nurse asked about three questions, then called an ambulance, and transferred me to 911. SPOILER: Morgen is fine now, but I'm still a bit stressed.
I was shocked that the nurse decided we needed an ambulance - we expected her to tell us (at worst) to go to the emergency room or (at best) to wait until 10:00 am for the clinic to open. I heard sirens getting steadily louder as the lady from 911 gave me instructions meant to help Morgen regain consciousness. Gavin went out to meet the emergency workers. I heard creaks across the ceiling as my upstairs neighbour ran to look out her front window. Inside on the phone, I never reached the "C" in Airway, Breathing, Circulation. It had taken less than 5 minutes for help to arrive.
Three firefighters in coveralls and boots, two paramedics in blue suits, and Gavin all tramped into our living room. And Morgen opened her eyes just in time to give everyone a big "good morning" grin.
After the firefighters left, the paramedics checked Morgen's blood sugar and temparature - they gave up on determining her pulse because the equipment was too large. She seemed perfectly fine, although a little subdued and pale. They then offered to drive us to whatever hospital we wanted to go to - and when we said that our doctor worked in a clinic at St. Joe's, they said "We'll take you to the emergency room there...and if you decide to go to a different department, well, that's totally your decision (wink wink, nod nod), eh?" There was something subversive about these guys - one with short hair, pierced ears and a hemp necklace, the other with long hair and slyly sarcastic. Both seemed to feel they were fighting on the good side of 'the force', and I've got to agree. Still, Gavin and I decided to drive ourselves, feeling that these guys might have to be somewhere else more urgently.
As Gavin signed some paperwork explaining why we declined the lift, I apologized for everything. I felt like we had stolen all of these emergency personell away from their jobs. I could just hear the doctor at St. Joe's emerg department tutting "Haven't you guys learned yet?" But the paramedics insisted that we shouldn't worry about it, and insisted that we go see a doctor even though Morgen seemed all right (we did). And they left us with this nugget: next time this happens, "don't call Telehealth, just call us." There might have been some snickering.

Lesson learned. Still, I'm not sure I'll be able to get rid of this habit of mine - I think I have to blame (and thank) my parents for teaching me to err on the side of caution. Do I like Telehealth very much right now? I guess the honest answer is that I have mixed feelings about it at the moment. But I really do like paramedics. And firefighters. And 911 operators.