I was so excited to come home from the office. Josh was 9 months old and I was looking forward to an evening of crawling, blocks and pull toys. After heading directly to the shower to wash off a day full of germs, I headed over to see Josh. On my way down the hall, my wife mentioned to me that Josh had just made a weird noise and had spit up. Having just seen a hundred kids "spit up" in the office, I didn’t give it a second thought.

After a hug and a kiss on his head, I began to feed Josh his applesauce mixed with oatmeal. He took the first spoonful happily, resisted the second and refused the third. This sometimes happens, so I cleaned him up and we headed for the blocks.

Then something happened. Josh made a Chewbacca-like noise and brought up what seemed like a gallon of stomach contents. I was stunned. He actually smiled and laughed as he discovered how much fun it was to play bang-bang in his vomit. Feeling helpless (and completely covered with my son’s stomach contents), I called out to my wife, who helped us both clean up and change into new clothes.

Josh seemed playful and so we went back to have some quiet playtime, but the gastric gushing continued again and again and again. Five clothing changes (for dad) and several laundry cycles later, I wondered what was going on with my son. Earlier that day, I had cared for several children with the stomach flu, and the medically trained half of my brain concluded that this was likely my son’s diagnosis. I found myself repeating the standard medical advice to myself and my wife (give his tummy a rest, start with clear liquids, only allow him small sips ...).

As the night went on, I felt a battle inside of myself — fortunately not of the stomach flu variety. While the medical side of me was confident with a plan to help my Joshie feel better, a more worried and protective side of me emerged. What if Josh didn’t have the stomach flu? What if it was something more serious?

This was my son’s first real illness and I felt confused. How could I spend my entire day confidently caring for sick children and then come home and feel overly concerned about my own son? Having my exhausted boy nestled into my arms and asleep with his warm face buried into my neck gave me a special appreciation for my new role as Josh’s dad. As a doctor, it had always been comforting to know that if my child became ill, I would know what to do. What I had never realized is that I could have an even greater healing power by just being dad. What my son needed most was the holding, comforting and love that his mom and dad could provide.

Helping my Josh recover from his first illness was an eye opening experience. Offering a hug, a sip of water or a pair of loving arms became more powerful than being able to offer a diagnosis or write a prescription. Josh, thanks to you and your stomach flu, you have helped me become a more empathetic parent and pediatrician. Despite my medical background, I feel that I was able to do more for you as your dad than as a doctor.

Dr. Brennan is a general pediatrician, certified lactation counselor and Santa Barbara/Goleta native. Contact him at 563-1995 or visit www.SBPediatrics.com.