I have recently been dealing with a number of medical problems. I have tendonitis in my right wrist, scar tissue build-up in both my knees, internal cysts and a calcium deposit, also located in my right wrist.

Some of these I have learned to deal with; some have caused me to worry.

I have visited the three different doctors on seven different occasions for various problems and concerns during the course of the past two months.

My mother assures me I am just a hypochondriac, that nothing is wrong and I should listen to the doctors, who also keep telling me I am fine. She tells me that I am just reverting to the behavior I used to exhibit as a child. And I know, deep down, she is probably right.

But the media has turned me into a terrified, anxious mess.

First off, I am a rabid fan of the show “House.” Nothing is worse for someone like me. In case you haven’t seen the show it goes something like this: A person is going about his day, everything is cool, then a sudden onset of a horrifying symptom – bleeding from the eyes, total body freeze, collapsing of the skull, whatever. The person goes to see Dr. Gregory House who then goes back and forth over the course of an hour as the person’s condition gets worse. Then, always the genius, House realizes what’s wrong like an epiphany the case is solved.

But despite the lyrics, the song is always the same – it boils down to something tiny, almost microscopic, that only House, in his infinite wisdom, could notice.

This is what freaks me out. What if my doctors have missed something? What if everything looks normal, but there is really something secretly hiding, waiting to jump out and kill me? What if only House can save me? House is fictitious! I’m screwed!

You see my problem.

Then there’s my other main culprit: The Internet.

The Internet is hands-down the worst thing to ever happen to the medical world. With Web sites like WebMD, any paranoid hypochondriac like me can jump online, look for symptoms and immediately convince himself he has cancer or Cushing’s disease or non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma or any other of a million things.

WebMD allows you to find one symptom and then “helps” you by listing 15,000 things it could mean.

Oh my God. I do have a slight ache! That’s it. I must have a brain tumor. I’m not kidding, I recently scared myself into thinking I had cancer. It took a specialist, a CT scan and an ultra-sound to convince me otherwise.

I guess the point is I don’t want to see people make my same mistake. I have begun to read so much into every little thing that bothers me that I can no longer even enjoy a single day without being scared of dying a horrible, sickly death. I’m afraid of something going wrong in my body that I can’t control. But I guess that’s just life.

Like my mom says, if there’s anything really wrong, you’ll know it. So stay off the Internet, see the doctor regularly and don’t turn into me.

Side note: I just sneezed. I’m going to the emergency room.

David Thill is a senior journalism major and can be reached at 581-7942 or DENopinions@gmail.com.

Students will perform their own original songs with the accompaniment of either a guitar or piano at the Singer/Songwriter Contest at 7 p.m. today in the 7th Street Underground.

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