We’ve become a nation of Internet hypochondriacs
I noticed a blotch on my arm the other day, a weird red thing that looked a bit like a birthmark, only it wasn’t my birthmark.
So what was it doing on me? Besides, was it really a blotch — or some kind of spot, or mole, or maybe even ... a lump? And what kind of lump? In the old days, I’d have booked a doctor’s appointment, and by the time it arrived 16 weeks later, the blotch would have been gone and I’d have cancelled the appointment.
But nowadays, you can’t get a doctor because nobody has one, so you do what every normal hypochondriac does, and look your blotch up on the Internet on WebMD or “I’m a chicken@ hypochondria.com.”
The next thing you know, you’re in trouble because these sites offer a library of online diagnoses, such as:
POSSIBLE CAUSES: 1. Minor skin rash, or allergy. 2. Inflamed hair follicles. 3. Harmless red mark. 4. Extremely rare but deadly cancer. Instantly, you realize the diagnosis is obvious: “Ohmigod — it’s cancer! I’m going to die!”
Relax. What you really have is a fast-growing modern disease called cyberchondria — or Internet hypochondria. It’s a hot new computer virus and almost everyone’s got it.
(“Ohmigod — I’ve got cyberchondria! Now what? I better look it up on the Net.”) The truth is, thanks to the Internet, being a hypochondriac has never been easier. Today, whatever symptoms you’ve got, there’s a universe of information and misinformation just a computer click away. Google any tiny pain or pang you’re feeling and you’ll find enough life-threatening diagnoses to scare you to death.
Persistent hiccups? Uh-oh. On the Web, that could be “a condition affecting the central nervous system — including stroke, tumour, or traumatic brain injury.”
Stiff neck with some fever? Better sign your will — it could be meningitis.
Blackened toenail? It’s probably tennis toe, unless it’s melanoma — or melatoema.
Even a headache could be any of 100 frightening things if you look it up — from encephalitis to trigeminal neuralgia nerve damage, to an increasingly common medical condition known as “brain tumour phobia.”
The truth is, it’s probably just stress, or too much computer time. A Microsoft study revealed that half that company’s employees interrupted their day’s work at least once to search for medi- cal information.
Millions more call Emergency, or make doctor’s appointments, or demand more tests and drugs.
We are a continent of hypochondriacs who cost the U.S. health system alone a reported $20 billion a year.
Even many high-school students have cyberchondria and routinely compare diseases they think they might have — from gluten and lactose intolerance to arthritis and Alzheimer’s.
In the old days, we kids often got sprained knees — but today’s Internet kids will tell you: “It’s not a sprain, Dad. I looked it up and it’s an ACL knee muscle tear with possible medial meniscus cartilage damage. I better get an MRI.”
The problem here in the western world is that we’ve largely wiped out many lethal diseases, from diphtheria and yellow fever to polio and whooping cough.
So we have lots of time left to obsess about new, modern-day threats — from Lyme disease, SAD and celiac intolerance to premature adrenal-fatigue auto-immune free radical stress syndrome, with added Omega-6 anti-oxidation deficiency. (Translation: hypochondria.) Consulting the Internet makes us think we actually know something about our possible ailments. We become our own physicians — Doctors Without Degrees — reading the latest medical studies and diagnosing ourselves.
So what if we don’t have an actual MD degree, or any understanding of medical science? We have our Web MD. We have online information. We have taken the Hypochondriac’s Oath (“Maybe it’s nothing, but everything starts as nothing — so maybe it’s something”).