So far this year I’ve diagnosed myself with hypothyroidism, magnesium deficiency, muscle wasting, metabolic syndrome, and pyogenic granuloma—just to name a few of the things I’ve been searching the internet for information on.  (Don’t even get me started on the things I am finding wrong with my children!) Googling for internet self-diagnosis can be dangerous in so many ways. A simple symptom can turn quickly into a “terminal diagnosis”, or  can lead to home treatments that aren’t appropriate and can cause more damage. Medical information gleaned from the internet can come from anywhere and anyone, and even if you are an expert to begin with it can be hard to choose the right advice.

Yes, doctors and other providers use internet searches to aid diagnosis. But this happens in conjunction with education and experience, as well as access to professional databases with evidence-based, peer-reviewed research.

People can spend countless hours, as I have, sweating on their couches looking at disturbing tumor photos and reading freak-out forum posts (from other couch doctors) to find out what’s wrong and to attempt at setting the gauge on their worry.

Why are people so attracted to browsing the internet for medical answers in place of visiting or consulting an expert?

“Am I bleeding from my ass or did I just eat too many beets?”—said more people than you would think

What’s wrong with me?

People want instant answers to their nagging questions and may prefer to test the waters of hypochondria from the safety of their own homes.  Discerning what warrants a call, a request for an urgent appointment, or an ER visit can be hard to do on your own.  If you are prone to dramatization it can be easy to feel stupid when calling the doctor in the middle of the night.  I have been told more than once, “Ma’am, this really can wait until your appointment next week.”

Even when you score an appointment you probably have to wait days, weeks, or months.   In an era of instant gratification this can seem like a travesty.  For those who don’t end up coming to the emergency room for everything, including their chapped lips*, a little sleuthing ahead of time can irresistibly lead you down a rabbit hole.

After you have finally seen the provider for 5-15 minutes of their “undivided attention” it may be anticlimactic and you end up with a sense of longing for more information, more direction on what to do, and a realization that no one cares about your health like you do.  Why isn’t anyone else interested in the connection between eating pickles and hair loss?  How has my physical therapist not discovered medical parkour?

Who else has this, and what happened to them?

Humans are social creatures, and the way of the tribe’s medicine woman is pretty much gone.  It has been largely replaced with drive-thru style impersonal cookie cutter medicine (think drop-in urgent care type visits).  We stop in to see someone who probably doesn’t know us very well and receive blanketed advice that has been handed to everyone based on regulatory recommendations and pharmaceutical agendas.

We want to know how the other guy turned out that had similar complaints.  Searching for personal stories and forums can give us audience to the more relatable dramas of others.  We crave that word of mouth advice from people who suffer similarly.  We feel entitled to the secret cures that doctors aren’t taking seriously but people are finding success with.  No one wants to be alone in their struggles, and reaching out into Internetland can abate that loneliness.

What can I do about this right now?

As a society we are impatient.  If it is 1:00 am and we have a rash we want to guess what it is and buy something for it tonight. We desire easy answers and quick solutions we can do at home. I call this “armchair healthcare”, where we would rather complain or pretend like we are making progress while not putting out any real efforts. People skim and choose the remedies that fit their level of motivation, and this gives temporary satisfaction.  It’s part of our conditioning as consumers of healthcare, where special equipment, apps, supplements, and over-the-counter medicinal salves can be purchased 24 hours a day, not interrupting us while we watch YouTube or eat chicken nuggets in our cars.

Should I feel guilty/worried/sorry for myself?

The popular culture pendulum swings between self-blame and victimization, and we’re unsure how we should feel about our ailments.  We want to discern if something is self-inflicted, random, or if we should sue somebody.  The internet helps us decide.  What does this have to do with me and who I am, or who I’ll be?  Maybe it’s all about ME, dammit!

Are there treatments I might have to go through that look painful, expensive, or that result in me being uglier, disfigured, or disabled? I might need to feel guilty about this, so I need to prep.  Either that, or get angry at someone.  Wait, what is the route of transmission? (Maybe I got it from a toilet seat?) Just tell me who I should blame!

Don’t get me wrong—I do believe the internet is a valuable tool for my health and the health of those around me. It connects us to others, gives us access to helpful information, and lets us find resources quickly. Doing your own research can bolster your knowledge and empower you.  You can find inspiration and ideas and get the honest opinion of 1467 of your closest friends. You may truly be able to captain your wellness ship in ways that were impossible 30 years ago.

However, there is so much information out there that if you read enough you may find contradictory information, your eyes just might glaze over, and you could possibly end up doing your own dental surgery or booking a leeching in a back alley clinic. User beware!

*Chapped lips. This is my favorite ER diagnosis ever.  Someone actually came into a hospital seeking care for this.  Seeing it in writing, up there on the patient information board, made me laugh and was an “aha moment”—people are crazy, and either don’t know how much an ER visit costs, or don’t care.  Maybe he should have googled “chapped lips” first, or called Kip to bring his chapstick to school….