For the past week, I’ve been dealing with a mild sore throat—nothing that keeps me awake at night, just a nagging discomfort, particularly noticeable when I take that first sip of water in the morning. While I haven’t rushed to the doctor or a walk-in clinic yet, I’ve found myself deep in thought about what could be causing it; is it allergies, stress, postnasal drip, or perhaps the onset of throat cancer? My rational mind knows it’s likely one of the former, but that last possibility lingers in my thoughts, much like my struggle to differentiate between gas pains and a heart attack or between a pulled muscle and a blood clot. Yes, I’m a cyberchondriac.
“Cyberchondria” is a term coined by Microsoft Research, describing the irrational escalation of health concerns based on internet searches and medical literature. In simpler terms, I often convince myself that I’m suffering from some rare and deadly illness after Googling a commonplace symptom. The vaguer the symptom, the longer the list of potential life-threatening diseases I feel compelled to investigate, often leading me down rabbit holes of disease-specific forums. I can’t even count the number of times I’ve stumbled into a leprosy chat room.
Like many peculiar mental quirks that run in my family, I’m convinced this one is hereditary. As a child, I often watched my mother peruse an old medical encyclopedia ominously titled Diseases of Women, trying to self-diagnose her latest ailments. “Have you ever heard of idiopathic thrombocytopenic purpura?” she would ask casually while seated cross-legged on the floor, flipping through the yellowing pages. “Because I think I have it.” It’s unclear whether I was concerned about inheriting whatever awful diagnosis she conjured up. Growing up just before the internet boom, I didn’t have the wealth of online health resources available today. Instead, I relied on comparing my symptoms with those of friends and family.
“My arm hurts. Aunt Lucy had arm pain right before her stroke.”
“Sure, but she was 89 and had been bedridden; you’re 15 and about to go have fun at the roller rink.”
“Still…”
My research methods have evolved alongside the internet’s growth. WebMD has become a trusted resource for me, and I’ve learned that I can label my condition as “somatic symptom disorder,” which essentially means I have a disorder centered on bodily symptoms. For each symptom I experience, there’s a whole list of maladies waiting to be explored.
Take, for example, a headache, which I probably have. WebMD suggests over 65 possible conditions linked to a “sudden onset dull headache.” Sure, a tension headache is the most likely culprit, but who can rule out a migraine, meningitis, or even Cryptococcus, a fungus found in bird droppings? I do live near a lot of birds, after all.
I often wonder why I can’t simply apply common sense to my self-diagnoses, like attributing my toe pain to a recent stub rather than some obscure neuropathy. Perhaps it’s my instinct to consider the worst-case scenarios to ensure I stay grounded in reality. Maybe the notion of assuming something trivial doesn’t sit well with me, since you never really know. Or perhaps I just believe I’m too unique to have the common cold.
You might think I spend an excessive amount of time at the emergency room, chatting with nurses and doctors during their breaks. In reality, my obsession rarely takes me out of the house. By the time I’ve sifted through the potential disorders, viruses, or afflictions, following each one through a maze of links and articles, my symptoms usually fade away, leaving me to reluctantly admit it was probably just allergies to my husband, who stands nearby with a smug grin.
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In summary, while I may often find myself spiraling into a cycle of self-diagnosis through online research, it’s often just a passing phase. Learning to manage this tendency can be a challenge, but recognizing it allows me to bring a little humor into the situation.
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