“I … I think I have hyperthyroidism.”
“What? Why?”
“Or I might have Supraventricular Tachycardia.”
“Supercali … what? What are you talking about?”
“Google says my symptoms, heart palpitations and shaking could be…”
“You also have a hangover and haven’t had anything but coffee today. You’re probably just dehydrated.”
“Oh, yes. WebMD symptom checker says that could be it, too.”
Hypochondriacs or something like them — we all know one, we all love one, but Lord have mercy on us all, no one loves one more than Google.
The Internet is a wonderful invention, as is Google. Since the turn of the latest century, we’ve been conditioned to use Google and other search engines like modern-day Zoltars at the Boardwalk. We put in our quarters — or search terms — and out spits a dozen answers to all of life’s mysterious questions. We blink and all is revealed.
All and then some, really.
While this is exceedingly valuable in relation to efficient use of our time, misuse of the magic can seriously diminish the quality of time we spend doing things like, oh, I don’t know, breathing?
A preoccupation with one’s health is something that affects many people. Some, for good reason.
I, myself, having been diagnosed with serious illnesses twice in three years, understand a certain bit of hypervigilance. Being averse to the echoing coughs in Petri dishes known as waiting rooms, smiling, well-intentioned phlebotomists and driving long distances to see my physicians, I understand the temptation of visiting Dr. Google. It’s convenient and makes some of us feel a little more knowledgeable, a little more in control.
Google isn’t the only source of information overload. I live among stacks of books, printouts and spreadsheets all purporting to solve the unsolvable puzzle of my disease’s cause, its effects, its metabolic pathways. Friends are painfully aware of how versed I am on various topics of health and quite often, they’ll even come to me for a word of advice. Generally, that advice is: “Go see the doctor.”
It’s not lost on me that we live in a time wherein people are somewhat mistrustful of authority. After all, Gen X is getting older and sicker and frankly, we trust no one. I know people who refuse to make an appointment to see a physician, insistent that they’re “all in cahoots with Big Pharma.”
Yes. Even Gen Xers use the word “cahoots.” I don’t think it will ever go out of style.
They aren’t. In cahoots, that is. Sure, there are outliers in every group and I’m not saying that it doesn’t happen, but I promise you, good doctors really are trying to save our lives. They’re out here in the trenches, watching you ignore common sense medical advice (“Eat less, move more.”). They’re working to keep you off certain drugs (“No. You don’t have a diagnosable anxiety disorder. Let’s try a few other things before jumping to Xanax.”) Yes, they’re fallible. No, they don’t have all the answers. Yes, they’re human.
Did you hear what I said? They’re human. While AI may be a valuable resource for the management of information when it comes to the practice of medicine, it could never fully replace the healing power of a living, breathing, human physician with a healer’s heart, who only wants to help you.
All that anxiety you feel when you have Google conjure up every possible outcome of your symptoms could be obliterated by one visit, even a televisit, with a medical professional.
Like, I know you think you’re dying, but Google isn’t going to ask you what you had for dinner the night before.
Web MD isn’t going to consider you divulging that last night’s menu included fresh roasted beets with goat cheese.
Google won’t chuckle when they tell you that what you’re seeing today is more than likely evidence of beet consumption than it is colon cancer.
Sure, colon cancer is on the rise in younger and younger patients, so “…maybe let’s opt-in for a test,” they might say.
“A medically-sound test administered by a competent medical professional who knows how to interpret the results of said test,” is what I would say.
You ask WebMD about what you think you saw, and they will tell you that your harmless beet-by-product could be colon cancer, the rotavirus, ulcerative colitis and maybe even gonorrhea.
Here, a gentle, general anxiety ratchets up to DEFCON 2 and you think you’re toast.
A test will prove that it’s beets, not blood, and you’ll be on your merry way.
I know that it feels that knowledge is power as we make our way through an anxiety-filled world, but the takeaway here should be that correct knowledge is power. Google can be a helpful tool, but your physicians are out here, educated and waiting to help.
By Amy Gesell
