03 June 2010

Hypochondria 101

Comic from nataliedee.com


As far as I can recall (though my older brother will probably disagree), I haven't ever really been sickly, or prone to complaining about my ailments. Recently, all of this has changed.


I'm not sure if it's my recent and strange array of minor health issues or purely boredom of mind, but I'm pretty sure I'm dying. And beyond that, I'm probably dying of something weird that only Dr. House could fix in a stunning display of assholery. But Dr. House is fictional! This will not help me! Maybe I should just start stalking Hugh Laurie.


I think WebMD was my gateway drug to hypochondria. WebMD really can be a great resource. Without a doubt, it offers useful and complete information about a wide variety of health issues, treatments, and medication. I was able to use the website several times to self-diagnose problems, make an appointment with my doctor, and go in with all the appropriate questions and get solid answers. 


That damned website needs to come with a warning label.


Honestly, have you ever tried their "Symptom Checker" application? Enter any minor discomforts you're having, for instance: a headache, lower abdominal cramping, and back ache. Instead of just telling you: "STFU you've got PMS, dumbass!" it will tell you that, sure, you might have PMS, but you could also have metastasized uterine cancer and you'd better have written your will five minutes ago, sicko. And, since it's not actually an MD, despite its totally deceptive address, WebMD slaps a "when to call your doctor" addendum on everything. I could go on there looking for the best way to remove a splinter, and it would instruct me to contact my doctor anyway.


Let me tell you, my doctor is a wonderful man who I am quite sure is getting sick of my phone calls. 


At the risk of sharing way too much information (aw, hell, who am I kidding here? I have no filter anyway), I recently got an IUD (as I mentioned before). Now, let's just put this out there: I have a foreign object implanted in my body - intentionally! And not by aliens!  Understandably, this takes one's body some time to get used to. My uterus occasionally throws temper tantrums these days, and every time it happens, I kind of freak out. Keeping in mind that I have a T-shaped piece of plastic wrapped in copper inside my uterus, I can't help but think that the worst possible outcome is on its way. IUDs have some pretty scary risks associated with them (perforated uterus, pelvic inflammatory disease, sterility), but they are so rare that they're pretty much unheard of, and considering the benefits (no babies! no crazy hormones!) they're well worth the risk for me. 


That being said, I'm pretty sure my IUD is migrating its way to my spleen or something, on an Hannibal-esque march to conquer other organs now that it has presumably beaten the crap out of my reproductive system. WebMD routinely confirms these fears and works very hard to instill others.




Reading WebMD is the first step toward becoming a reclusive germaphobe and hypochondriac. Look at today's front page:



You got me, WebMD! You're right, I don't sleep well. I have two tattoos! I have bi-polar, and that includes sometimes depression! When I drink something before bed, I have to wake up to pee! I'M DYING.

WebMD is like a constant barrage of the scare tactics from your local news stations. You know, the ones where you'll get a teaser from these damned rinky-dink "news" outlets during How I Met Your Mother or Fringe that say things like, "What common household object is killing your babies? Find out at 11!" and "Tune in at ten to find out how you're slowly murdering your spouse without knowing it!"

Mind you, I do think WebMD can be quite helpful, but DAMN. What isn't killing me these days? Or what isn't making me want to kill myself?


And all of this is occurring without taking into account the things that are secretly killing all of us. Global warming! Pesticides! Genetically manipulated foods in my grocery store! Scientologists!


Okay, so maybe since I'm aware that I've come down with a raging case of hypochondria, that's not what it really is (though some close to me might differ). Honestly, I think it's a symptom of a brain left to its own devices. The bottom line is, I need a job, if only for my health.

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