sarahsarah
20-09-09, 23:24
Hello everyone, I'm Sarah, and I am a Dr Google addict.
About 6 weeks ago, a painless, swollen gland in my neck whilst out of the country led me to Dr Google and in that time he has diagnosed me with lymphoma, breast cancer, a brain tumour, a secondary brain tumour with primary source unknown, HIV, Lyme's disease and many, many other terrible, rare illnesses too numerous to mention here. The swollen lymph node went away after a couple of weeks but the damage had already been done- I was seeking the guidance of Dr Google every day and even something as innocuous as cramping before a period, which I have experienced every month since I was 14 years old, was now being diagnosed by Dr G as cancer. I was dying. I couldn't even bear to think about Christmas or next year as I was sure I wouldn't be around. I started to experience strange pains in my body and terrible headaches in my neck and back of my head. It was serious, Dr Google had told me.
What was worrying me most of all is that while I wouldn't say I had had a lax attitude towards my health at all, I certainly wasn't an unnecessary worrier so the fact that I was going out of my mind this time meant to me that it must be very serious indeed. Every lump and bump in my body was prodded til I bruised, I was sore all over from palpating perfectly innocent body parts. My mind went back some ten years when a woman I worked with was diagnosed and died of cancer within a couple of months- a woman who was my age now. I couldn't get it out of my head, it was me now.
Even though I had medical insurance, I chose not to seek out a real doctor during my trip- why bother? I was dying anyway and all he/ she would do is send me back to the UK for further tests to confirm what Dr Google had already told me. Over-the-counter pain killers weren't working, it must be serious. The end of my trip eventually came around and I few back to the UK, a 10 hour journey during which I continued to suffer from the headaches and aches and pains. Dr Google was right and the cancer was much more virulent than I thought.
So, back in the UK and back to work, still with a headache and funny pains but feeling a little bit safer with the full backing of the NHS behind me, should "the end" come sooner than even I thought. While some of my old symptoms went away- my arms and legs no longer hurt, new symptoms started to appear, a natural progression of the illness, and Dr Google was with me every step of the way, offering my newer, more frightening variants that even I couldn't have made up. I checked my lymph glands once every minute for any slight change, could barely concentrate on my work and when, after 2 weeks of getting up, going to work, returning home and consulting upwards of 3 hours per day with Dr Google, sometimes waking up in the middle of the night to ask him questions. I knew I should go to a "real" doctor, but I was scared stiff of doing so because while I didn't, there was still that tiny glimmer of hope that Dr Google might have been wrong, and I think that was the only thing that kept me going. Seeing my GP would have taken even this away from me so I stayed away, stayed in pain and surfed the net, night after night. The happy, optimistic, rational and pragmatic woman I was five weeks beforehand was gone, probably for good. How I managed to hold it together at work, I have no idea.
Then, on Friday, from somewhere deep, deep down inside my core, something clicked. I could not go on like this, I couldn't do it to myself any longer. The weekend was looming, I was utterly exhausted from work, virtually no sleep and constant waking worry. I realised the weekend could go two ways, I could have one filled with worry and anxiety and pain like last weekend or I could bite the bullet, see my GP and get this on the road to being sorted once and for all. I knew then that whatever was wrong with me could not be as bad as the things I was imagining and yes, the GP might order tests which I would fret about and yes, she might be concerned I was seriously ill but there was no way I could go on the way I was. Where I got the strength to phone the GPs surgery and make an appointment from, I will never know. But I did it and I turned up and even though I thought I was going to suffocate as I sat in the waiting room, convinced I would be admitted to hospital within the hour and might never go home again.
Well, you can guess what happened. The doctor had the measure of me in 20 seconds and asked "what terrible disease have you diagnosed yourself with"? to which my answer was "all sorts" (thought it better to leave it at that). I left the surgery with a prescription for antibiotics, a diagnosis of a very nasty infection that had probably been hanging round my system for weeks and had manifested itself as an ear and throat problem and it was "no wonder" my glands were "slightly up". My headache all but disappeared on the spot as a I positively skipped towards the chemist to get my prescription filled. My weekend has been wonderful, I haven't consulted Dr Google once and believe it or not I am enjoying the pain of the ear infection as it starts to fade as the antibiotics kick in. I feel for the first time in weeks a little bit like my old self and only had a little bit of health anxiety (there is a name for it! I found it on this site!) and not too much feeling for lumps and bumps (though I did have a quick feel and sight panic earlier!)
I am not saying I am over all this, it is far too early days to say this. I am afraid that my headache could come back, for perfectly legitimate and non-serious medical reasons, and that me and Dr Google will be best mates again. I know cancer is real, it has touched every single one of us in some way and that one day I probably will become ill and possibly have to experience what I feared. But getting myself into the utter, unrecognisable state that I have been over the past month was ruining my life. I shocked myself with what kind of a frenzy I whipped myself up into and I think it is this which will take me longer to get over than any illness, real or imaginary.
Right, I have wibbled on now for long enough. If I do feel like seeing my old pal Dr G again, I will come here instead and absorb some of the abundant positivity here. I am going now to read some more posts and advice on this wonderful, wonderful site now and try not to check my lymph glands again, well, at least til the morning.
About 6 weeks ago, a painless, swollen gland in my neck whilst out of the country led me to Dr Google and in that time he has diagnosed me with lymphoma, breast cancer, a brain tumour, a secondary brain tumour with primary source unknown, HIV, Lyme's disease and many, many other terrible, rare illnesses too numerous to mention here. The swollen lymph node went away after a couple of weeks but the damage had already been done- I was seeking the guidance of Dr Google every day and even something as innocuous as cramping before a period, which I have experienced every month since I was 14 years old, was now being diagnosed by Dr G as cancer. I was dying. I couldn't even bear to think about Christmas or next year as I was sure I wouldn't be around. I started to experience strange pains in my body and terrible headaches in my neck and back of my head. It was serious, Dr Google had told me.
What was worrying me most of all is that while I wouldn't say I had had a lax attitude towards my health at all, I certainly wasn't an unnecessary worrier so the fact that I was going out of my mind this time meant to me that it must be very serious indeed. Every lump and bump in my body was prodded til I bruised, I was sore all over from palpating perfectly innocent body parts. My mind went back some ten years when a woman I worked with was diagnosed and died of cancer within a couple of months- a woman who was my age now. I couldn't get it out of my head, it was me now.
Even though I had medical insurance, I chose not to seek out a real doctor during my trip- why bother? I was dying anyway and all he/ she would do is send me back to the UK for further tests to confirm what Dr Google had already told me. Over-the-counter pain killers weren't working, it must be serious. The end of my trip eventually came around and I few back to the UK, a 10 hour journey during which I continued to suffer from the headaches and aches and pains. Dr Google was right and the cancer was much more virulent than I thought.
So, back in the UK and back to work, still with a headache and funny pains but feeling a little bit safer with the full backing of the NHS behind me, should "the end" come sooner than even I thought. While some of my old symptoms went away- my arms and legs no longer hurt, new symptoms started to appear, a natural progression of the illness, and Dr Google was with me every step of the way, offering my newer, more frightening variants that even I couldn't have made up. I checked my lymph glands once every minute for any slight change, could barely concentrate on my work and when, after 2 weeks of getting up, going to work, returning home and consulting upwards of 3 hours per day with Dr Google, sometimes waking up in the middle of the night to ask him questions. I knew I should go to a "real" doctor, but I was scared stiff of doing so because while I didn't, there was still that tiny glimmer of hope that Dr Google might have been wrong, and I think that was the only thing that kept me going. Seeing my GP would have taken even this away from me so I stayed away, stayed in pain and surfed the net, night after night. The happy, optimistic, rational and pragmatic woman I was five weeks beforehand was gone, probably for good. How I managed to hold it together at work, I have no idea.
Then, on Friday, from somewhere deep, deep down inside my core, something clicked. I could not go on like this, I couldn't do it to myself any longer. The weekend was looming, I was utterly exhausted from work, virtually no sleep and constant waking worry. I realised the weekend could go two ways, I could have one filled with worry and anxiety and pain like last weekend or I could bite the bullet, see my GP and get this on the road to being sorted once and for all. I knew then that whatever was wrong with me could not be as bad as the things I was imagining and yes, the GP might order tests which I would fret about and yes, she might be concerned I was seriously ill but there was no way I could go on the way I was. Where I got the strength to phone the GPs surgery and make an appointment from, I will never know. But I did it and I turned up and even though I thought I was going to suffocate as I sat in the waiting room, convinced I would be admitted to hospital within the hour and might never go home again.
Well, you can guess what happened. The doctor had the measure of me in 20 seconds and asked "what terrible disease have you diagnosed yourself with"? to which my answer was "all sorts" (thought it better to leave it at that). I left the surgery with a prescription for antibiotics, a diagnosis of a very nasty infection that had probably been hanging round my system for weeks and had manifested itself as an ear and throat problem and it was "no wonder" my glands were "slightly up". My headache all but disappeared on the spot as a I positively skipped towards the chemist to get my prescription filled. My weekend has been wonderful, I haven't consulted Dr Google once and believe it or not I am enjoying the pain of the ear infection as it starts to fade as the antibiotics kick in. I feel for the first time in weeks a little bit like my old self and only had a little bit of health anxiety (there is a name for it! I found it on this site!) and not too much feeling for lumps and bumps (though I did have a quick feel and sight panic earlier!)
I am not saying I am over all this, it is far too early days to say this. I am afraid that my headache could come back, for perfectly legitimate and non-serious medical reasons, and that me and Dr Google will be best mates again. I know cancer is real, it has touched every single one of us in some way and that one day I probably will become ill and possibly have to experience what I feared. But getting myself into the utter, unrecognisable state that I have been over the past month was ruining my life. I shocked myself with what kind of a frenzy I whipped myself up into and I think it is this which will take me longer to get over than any illness, real or imaginary.
Right, I have wibbled on now for long enough. If I do feel like seeing my old pal Dr G again, I will come here instead and absorb some of the abundant positivity here. I am going now to read some more posts and advice on this wonderful, wonderful site now and try not to check my lymph glands again, well, at least til the morning.