My name is Adam S., and I am a cyberchondriac.
From Wikipedia:
"Cyberchondria (or cyberchondriasis) refers to the unfounded escalation of concerns about common symptomology based on review of search results and literature online. Articles in popular media position cyberchondria anywhere from temporary neurotic excess to adjunct hypochondria. Cyberchondria is a growing concern among many healthcare practitioners as patients can now research any and all symptoms of a rare disease, illness or condition, and manifest a state of medical anxiety."
(I was originally going to write "hypochondriac" up there, but saw the link to "cyberchondriac" and thought that was more appropriate).
At some point in my adult life, I've become very aware of my body and its sensations. I frequently feel my heart thudding in my chest (particularly if it skips or double-beats), and all sorts of run-of-the-mill aches and pains and spasms get amplified into significant issues. It's not a pervasive problem that affects me all the time, but it really can cause some anxiety in short term bursts.
When I turned 35, I decided it would be a good idea to schedule a physical exam. I had a laundry list of minor problems that I wanted to talk about (warts on my feet, expired migraine medication, etc). It had been years since I'd seen a doctor, so I figured 35 was as good a time as any to get a status update. If there were any problems, they could be discovered and treated, and if not, then at least I'd have some baseline results for comparison as I get older.
My physical went fine, but I had to come back a day later (after fasting overnight) to give blood and a urine sample. I then scheduled a followup appointment to discuss the results of said tests. At that followup appointment, my doctor went over my numbers from my tests. Every value fell right in line with the normal tolerances. My cholesterol numbers are spectacular, due to some awesome genetics. There was one exception, though, circled on my chart. I had red blood cells in my urine. My doctor (who is kind of a strange guy with not the best bedside manner) wanted me to do another test. So I headed to the lab and peed in another cup.
By the time I got back to work, I'm already starting to freak out. Blood in my urine? What does that mean? Of course, I go to the same source that I used to answer all my other questions in life: Google.
Google tells me that RBCs in the urine (microhematuria, I now know it to be called, or frank hematuria if you can actually see the blood) can by cased my many issues, some harmless, some life-threatening (my stomach lurches as I read this) and sometimes the cause is never discovered. Over the course of the next hour, I wonder if I have kidney disease, kidney cancer, bladder cancer, prostate cancer. If I'm lucky, maybe it's just kidney stones or early onset prostate enlargement. I picture my organs getting x-rayed and ghostly white blobs showing up where they're not supposed to be. I wonder if I'll have to find someone to donate a kidney.
I barely slept that night. That was Thursday.
On Friday, I called in the afternoon to see if my results were in, and they said they'd call back when they got them. I never got a call back. I got a login and password to their online system so that I could login and check my charts online, but there was a bit of a mixup and my information wasn't available. It would be fixed on Monday.
Over the weekend, I was a bit better. I could convince myself that maybe it wasn't such a big deal. Or if it was a big deal, well, it was a bridge that would be crossed in due time. There was nothing I could do about it.
I remember as a kid a TV commercial about a guy being scared to go to the doctor because he didn't want to hear bad news. I remember my dad commenting about it being a stupid commercial (strong words from Papa S, which is why it sticks out in my memory). If there is bad news, it's there whether you go to the doctor or not, and learning about it early is always better. I resigned myself to just having to wait out the weekend, and steeled myself against whatever bad news was coming. But I still checked my pee. Did it look darker than usual?
This morning, after dropping off Allison and driving to work, I pictured what was going to happen today. I'd get a call from my doctor's office (or worse, my doctor himself). They'd say I needed to come in for more testing. This would lead to urinary tract imaging, and who knows what from there. At almost that exact moment, my cell phone rang. It was my doctors office.
The nurse was just calling to inform me that my repeat urinalysis came back normal.
A chorus of angels burst out in song as a beam of heavenly light broke through the clouds and shone down through my car window. An amazingly enough, the mysterious pangs of discomfort I'd been feeling in my lower abdomen immediately cleared up. As anxious as I'd felt all weekend, I feel the opposite right now.
It's strange, because I'm typically not a stress-ball about much of anything. I can definitely look back on this weekend and laugh at myself, and hopefully apply some lessons learned in the future.
From Wikipedia:
"Cyberchondria (or cyberchondriasis) refers to the unfounded escalation of concerns about common symptomology based on review of search results and literature online. Articles in popular media position cyberchondria anywhere from temporary neurotic excess to adjunct hypochondria. Cyberchondria is a growing concern among many healthcare practitioners as patients can now research any and all symptoms of a rare disease, illness or condition, and manifest a state of medical anxiety."
(I was originally going to write "hypochondriac" up there, but saw the link to "cyberchondriac" and thought that was more appropriate).
At some point in my adult life, I've become very aware of my body and its sensations. I frequently feel my heart thudding in my chest (particularly if it skips or double-beats), and all sorts of run-of-the-mill aches and pains and spasms get amplified into significant issues. It's not a pervasive problem that affects me all the time, but it really can cause some anxiety in short term bursts.
When I turned 35, I decided it would be a good idea to schedule a physical exam. I had a laundry list of minor problems that I wanted to talk about (warts on my feet, expired migraine medication, etc). It had been years since I'd seen a doctor, so I figured 35 was as good a time as any to get a status update. If there were any problems, they could be discovered and treated, and if not, then at least I'd have some baseline results for comparison as I get older.
My physical went fine, but I had to come back a day later (after fasting overnight) to give blood and a urine sample. I then scheduled a followup appointment to discuss the results of said tests. At that followup appointment, my doctor went over my numbers from my tests. Every value fell right in line with the normal tolerances. My cholesterol numbers are spectacular, due to some awesome genetics. There was one exception, though, circled on my chart. I had red blood cells in my urine. My doctor (who is kind of a strange guy with not the best bedside manner) wanted me to do another test. So I headed to the lab and peed in another cup.
By the time I got back to work, I'm already starting to freak out. Blood in my urine? What does that mean? Of course, I go to the same source that I used to answer all my other questions in life: Google.
Google tells me that RBCs in the urine (microhematuria, I now know it to be called, or frank hematuria if you can actually see the blood) can by cased my many issues, some harmless, some life-threatening (my stomach lurches as I read this) and sometimes the cause is never discovered. Over the course of the next hour, I wonder if I have kidney disease, kidney cancer, bladder cancer, prostate cancer. If I'm lucky, maybe it's just kidney stones or early onset prostate enlargement. I picture my organs getting x-rayed and ghostly white blobs showing up where they're not supposed to be. I wonder if I'll have to find someone to donate a kidney.
I barely slept that night. That was Thursday.
On Friday, I called in the afternoon to see if my results were in, and they said they'd call back when they got them. I never got a call back. I got a login and password to their online system so that I could login and check my charts online, but there was a bit of a mixup and my information wasn't available. It would be fixed on Monday.
Over the weekend, I was a bit better. I could convince myself that maybe it wasn't such a big deal. Or if it was a big deal, well, it was a bridge that would be crossed in due time. There was nothing I could do about it.
I remember as a kid a TV commercial about a guy being scared to go to the doctor because he didn't want to hear bad news. I remember my dad commenting about it being a stupid commercial (strong words from Papa S, which is why it sticks out in my memory). If there is bad news, it's there whether you go to the doctor or not, and learning about it early is always better. I resigned myself to just having to wait out the weekend, and steeled myself against whatever bad news was coming. But I still checked my pee. Did it look darker than usual?
This morning, after dropping off Allison and driving to work, I pictured what was going to happen today. I'd get a call from my doctor's office (or worse, my doctor himself). They'd say I needed to come in for more testing. This would lead to urinary tract imaging, and who knows what from there. At almost that exact moment, my cell phone rang. It was my doctors office.
The nurse was just calling to inform me that my repeat urinalysis came back normal.
A chorus of angels burst out in song as a beam of heavenly light broke through the clouds and shone down through my car window. An amazingly enough, the mysterious pangs of discomfort I'd been feeling in my lower abdomen immediately cleared up. As anxious as I'd felt all weekend, I feel the opposite right now.
It's strange, because I'm typically not a stress-ball about much of anything. I can definitely look back on this weekend and laugh at myself, and hopefully apply some lessons learned in the future.
6 comments:
Ah, WebMD, the bane of our existence....
Gwen
Looks like I did a poor job of reassuring you it's probably no big deal. Yikes - sorry you were so stressed. But we do see this all the time, only rarely is it something to worry about in your age group, as in this case.
Discostup
Gwen: Sowwy... :( Trust me, I don't like the situation much either.
Mick: No worries. When you're dealing with a certain level of irrationality, there's only so much you can say. :)
Everyone has their little foibles. This is one of mine.
"Foible".
What a great word.
Nice work on the 35 physical! I did the same thing. And I am now taking a vitamin D supplement (apparently, I don't see the light of day enough).
Too bad about the cyberchondria. Our friend Tony has that also and can freak himself out something fierce.
Adam,
There's nothing wrong with educating yourself about what's going on in your own body.
At least you have good insight in the fact that you fixate a bit. :)
You're nowhere near as bad as the one patient who had migraines without aura who asked me for a "whole body MRI" because why else would she have headaches?
THAT is a true hypochondriac. I'd say you're a health worry wart. Completely different class.
Gwen
Post a Comment