You might think you're saving your life by searching the web for answers—but you could be wrecking it.
Your hiccups just won't quit. Like, it's been two days. You could head to your M.D.'s office. But, groan. So inconvenient. And Dr. Interwebs is faster, simpler, and cheaper. It takes mere seconds to type symptoms into a search engine...and just a few more to learn that those persistent throat spasms could be a sign of a pulmonary embolism. Or a stroke. Or, holy shit, cancer.
We know you know the drill. Almost 80 percent of women pursue wellness intel online, and around 60 percent of quests are done specifically to diagnose a medical condition. These days, the average gal sees an M.D. just three times a year—but spends almost 52 hours prowling the 'Net for health help. Psychologists have given this tech-enabled obsessing over real symptoms or imagined ills a name: cyberchondria. It can build slowly or strike suddenly, but it always starts the same way.
"Everybody googles their symptoms, their diagnoses, and their treatments—and that's enabled people to be a lot more knowledgeable," says Lyle Dennis, M.D., chief of neurology at Bon Secours Charity Health System in Suffern, New York. "But the flip side is people are getting scared." Nearly half of all virtual health seekers end up more anxious than they were before they logged on, and it's easy to see why: Millions of medical sites, blogs, and Wiki pages can, intentionally or not, spew out confusing, overwhelming, or panic-inducing information—or, in too many cases to count, misinformation.
This digital-age version of hypochondria, and the sketchy content that fuels it, has gotten so bad that Google recently stepped in. Together with the Mayo Clinic, it created doctor-vetted e-cards that pop up in hundreds of health searches. (Type in, say, pinkeye or tennis elbow, and a concise graphic surfaces, with legit illustrations, symptoms, and treatments.) The cards may help ease cyberchondria, which—as the three examples below (all based on stories from real doctors) prove—can range from mild to extreme and can manifest in myriad unsettling forms.
Cindy had been tired for weeks. A web search for "fatigue" brought up site after site describing her exact symptoms and pointing to a likely diagnosis: systemic exertion intolerance disease (a.k.a. chronic fatigue syndrome). She ordered scores of supplements that promised relief. When they didn't—several months and hundreds of dollars later—a blood test from her M.D. revealed the real, easily treatable culprit: anemia.
"Anxiety often motivates us to find answers," says Thomas Fergus, Ph.D., a clinical psychologist at Baylor University. It's human nature to identify any and all perceived threats, which makes online health hunting a loaded endeavor. Research shows that nearly one-third of people who type in medical terms start calm, then quickly escalate; cramps becomes ulcers becomes internal bleeding. Even common symptom-checking sites like WebMD or Healthline could lead you down a disquieting path: Per a Microsoft study, relatively harmless words like coughing are just as likely to bring up pages about serious problems as benign ones. "Based on Web searches, I've had patients with common headaches come in thinking they have brain tumors," says Sandra Fryhofer, M.D., an internist in Atlanta.
But many don't even make it that far. Of all the people who scour the Internet for diagnoses, nearly 30 percent fail to follow up with a doctor. "Some women are convinced they have an illness and decide to treat it themselves," says Michele Curtis, M.D., an ob-gyn in Houston. "Others become paralyzed by denial and don't want to hear an official diagnosis." Either way, some cyberchondriacs delay care—which can lead to serious consequences. For example, if sudden vaginal bleeding does turn out to be cervical cancer, early treatment can be lifesaving. (But, for real, you probably don't have cervical cancer!)
Maria was scrolling through Facebook when she saw a friend had been diagnosed with multiple sclerosis (MS). A link sent Maria to a site that said MS has no cure. Another link to a message board was full of patients' descriptions of early symptoms, including tingling in the hands and feet. OMG. Maria had totally felt that before! She dialed her doc, demanding a battery of expensive and invasive tests (read: spinal tap). Everything came back negative.
Thing is, you don't have to have a single symptom for cyberchondria to suck you in. Reading "real life" stories, in particular, can be a catalyst for a "what if?" frenzy that leads to "me too!" Without context or professional 411, social media–shared stories can seem almost too relatable, says Curtis. "It's the narrative that matters to people, often more than the facts."
Take, for example, last summer's ubiquitous Ice Bucket Challenge to raise awareness and money for ALS. The campaign, says Dennis, led to an increase in people calling their physicians, concerned that they, too, had the fatal—and very rare—condition. And while some cyberchondriacs shun the doctor's office at all costs, others rush in for every available exam.
Docs know they shouldn't order tests sans red flags, but many cave in anyway. The results: higher out-of-pocket fees (insurers often don't cover unnecessary scans, even if an M.D. prescribes them) and, potentially, lots more angst. "Some women are so convinced they have a certain ailment that it's hard to dissuade them, even with proof," says Curtis.
Sara had a dull ache in her right side. A quick Google search suggested it was indigestion or a pulled muscle. She kept clicking and landed on a site that mentioned appendicitis. Alarmed, Sara ferreted out more on the condition and found a self-test: press and release on the area to see if that hurts. Ouch! Sara called her doctor, who sent her to the ER—right before her appendix burst.
Few medical conditions can snowball as fast as an online health investigation—but in some cases, a little cyberchondria can lead you in the right direction. To wit, one survey found that 40 percent of digital diagnosers said a professional confirmed their suspicion. As Sara discovered, doing some homework can jump-start the healing process.
So...is cyberchondria wrecking your life—or saving it? The best advice is to learn how to channel your instincts and know when to bring in an M.D. (um, always). These strategies will put you on the path to saner, savvier searching:
Get some perspective. "Just because you share a symptom with a disease doesn't mean you have the disease," says Fryhofer. There's probably a simple, non-life-threatening explanation for your aches or pains. Don't ignore symptoms, but don't immediately assume the worst.
Cool the self-diagnosing. Repeat after us: I will write down symptoms and questions and bring them to my doctor. She'll do an exam, suggest tests, and come to a diagnosis based on factors you may not have considered, such as your age and family history.
Keep psychology in mind. One study found that you're more likely to believe you have a condition if you see all your symptoms listed in a row, rather than broken up by unfamiliar ones. Read through symptom lists completely, without skipping anything. If many don't apply to you, you can probably breathe easier.
Be all about action. Booking an appointment is useful; worrying yourself sick isn't, says Brad Schmidt, Ph.D., director of the Anxiety and Behavioral Health Clinic at Florida State University. If you still find yourself wigging out, limit searches to no more than 20 minutes each, or put a total ban on googling until you see your doctor.
For more info on how to get legit health information online, check out the June 2015 issue of Women's Health, on newsstands now.
