Are you brave enough to question a doctor's diagnosis?

But occasionally their diagnosis just doesn't sound right and, as they are busy scribbling out a prescription, the words "hang on a minute, I'm not sure about this" begin tickling our tonsils.

But how many of us actually speak up? How many of us have the confidence - the chutzpah, if you like - to question our doctors' decisions?

I know I am a complete coward when it comes to even the most minor confrontations, and I can't help wondering how many other people are wallowing in the cowardly custard with me.

Just last week I took my son to the doctor because I was concerned about a persistent cough he developed during a recent cold and couldn't seem to shake off.

I suspected it was simply a habit that he was trying on for size for a while, but within minutes of the consultation starting the doctor had diagnosed mild asthma and was giving him a prescription for an inhaler.

While she went on to explain about the differences between a blue and a brown inhaler and how many puffs he would require how many times a day, I just sat there nodding, looking earnest and attentive when what I really wanted to do was say: "Hang on a minute, I'm not sure about this."

Instead I took the prescription, thanked her for her time and promised to fetch the Munchkin back in ten days.

So now he is puffing away on his puffer - or his trumpet as he likes to call it - four times a day even though I am not entirely convinced that it is necessary.

And that is the crux of the problem here: it is not that I fervently believe she was wrong in her diagnosis, it's just that I'm not entirely convinced she was right.

It didn't help the doctor's case of course that just hours before attending the surgery I had listened to a radio report on the over-diagnosis of childhood asthma by GPs.

The number of sufferers has increased three-fold since the Second World War and now just over five million people in the UK have asthma, and one in eight children has been diagnosed with the condition.

Some people argue, however, that the numbers have been artificially inflated by over-diagnosis.

In other words, while the number of sufferers has undoubtedly increased, the number of diagnoses has far outstripped the number of actual cases.

GPs say that the problem stems from patients' high expectations. We want to leave their consulting room with a definitive answer, a solid diagnosis, not ifs and maybes. And, perhaps more importantly, we want to leave clutching a prescription.

People feel cheated if they don't walk out with something.

That is why some patients still badger their doctor for antibiotics when they have a cold or some other minor bug - they want a "proper" prescription and not one that simply includes warm baths, cool sheets and plenty of rest.

And it is why some parents want a label for their children's symptoms, a label such as asthma, because that will lead to a prescription and the comfort of knowing you are actually "doing something".

I have a lot of sympathy for parents who push for a diagnosis - if something is wrong with our kids we want to know what it is, and we want to know now - but I also admire those who have the courage to question their doctor's findings.

I don't believe the parents of 12-week-old Maria Aziz Al-Rafi, the baby with the badly disfigured face, were right to threaten to remove her from Newcastle's Royal Victoria Infirmary, but I do admire the way they have questioned doctors about her treatment instead of giving them free rein.

Suzanne Taylor and Aziz Rafi did not believe their daughter needed an emergency tracheotomy, and they said so. I'm not sure I would have had the guts to do the same, particularly as their decision meant a trip to the High Court in Leeds.

Maybe if my son's condition was as serious as Maria's I would stand up and have my say.

Hopefully, this is not a test I will ever have to take.

In the meantime, I'm opting for cowardice and the Munchkin is left blowing his own trumpet.

Updated: 09:27 Tuesday, March 12, 2002