I am a worrier. Not your typical worrier, like, ‘Oh, I hope I didn’t leave the iron on.’ More like, ‘I know I left the iron on, and I am sure I didn’t pay my homeowner’s insurance. Who will take us in when the house burns down?’ I often tell my kids not to worry since I am already doing it. I worry most about my health, and with the vast amount of information available on the internet, I am officially a cyberchondriac.
A recent article in Health magazine enumerated the five signs of a cyberchondriac and, of course, I met nearly all the criteria. The first is that you can’t stop searching after just one result. I, unfortunately, have been diagnosed with chronic migraines (by an actual doctor, one with an M.D. and everything). However, that does not stop me from Googling, ‘pain over left eye,’ because you know it could be something else: a torn retina, dengue fever or chemical exposure. I think I’ve made it clear: I am not happy with what I have, I need something worse.
The second sign is that searching makes you anxious. You think? I have no idea how you actually get dengue fever other than there was a case of it in 2009 in Key West. We have a second home in Florida a good 90 miles from Key West, but if anyone in the state was going to get it, why not me?
The third sign is that it interferes with your personal life. I don’t find this to be true. As a matter of fact, I think it makes me a better friend. Because of my vast medical knowledge, friends seek out my opinion on various health issues. Now, mind you, these are the same people who have not visited a doctor in 10 years, never finish their antibiotics and refuse to get a flu shot. These people are risk-takers. Come to think of it, I am surprised we are friends. Considering their disregard for preventive care, I might catch something from them.
The fourth sign is you’re convinced you have a deadly disease. I cannot tell you how many deadly diseases I’ve had! So many, friends now respond with, “Oh, just like the last time you had a (fill in the blank) and had only 30 days to live.” Said sarcastically, I might add.
And the final sign is you trust the Internet more than your doctor. I love my doctor. Before I started going to her, I made an appointment and explained about my hypochondria, and she was still willing to take me on as a patient. I am sure there are many times she has bitten the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing when I started a sentence with, “I started to worry when I read an article on the internet …”
I want to make myself stop, but I realize if I am not worried about my health, I’d worry about something else. At least worrying about my health is better than worrying about something I have no control over, like world peace. Got something on your mind? Let me know and I will worry about it for you.
Contact Patty at phannum@townandstyle.com.
