I Googled My Symptoms and Now I’m Planning My Funeral

There are two types of people in the world:

Those who go to a doctor when something feels wrong.

And those who open Google and emotionally prepare for death.

I am proudly the second type.

It always starts innocently. A harmless curiosity. A mild discomfort. A whisper from your body that says, “Hey, something’s a little off.” And instead of responding like a responsible adult, you do what we’ve all done at 2:17 a.m. — you open Google and type:

“Why does my left eyelid twitch?”

Congratulations. You now have seven hours to live.

Google does not believe in moderation. Google does not say, “Oh, you’re probably tired.” Google jumps straight to:

• Rare neurological disorder

• Early-stage something

• Terminal, but interesting

By the third result, you’re no longer worried about your eyelid. You’re worried about how your family will survive without you and whether your ex will pretend to be sad on social media.

And somehow, every diagnosis includes the phrase “If left untreated.”

Untreated by who, Google? You? A wizard? A monk?

I once Googled a headache.

Just a headache.

Google gently informed me that it could be dehydration…

or a brain tumor that only affects people who Googled headaches.

Google doesn’t just diagnose you.

It judges you.

It asks questions like:

“How long have you had this symptom?”

“Oh. That long. Interesting.”

Then it offers a forum post from 2009 written by someone named DragonSlayer47 who says, “I had this and I died two weeks later.”

Why is every medical forum filled with ghosts?

And why is there always one comment that says, “It’s nothing, relax,” followed by another that says, “Same thing happened to my cousin. He’s gone.”

No in-between. No calm. Just chaos.

At this point, you don’t even want to be healthy. You just want certainty.

You start bargaining.

“If I survive this, I’ll drink more water.”

“If this goes away, I’ll stop Googling symptoms.”

(Lies. All lies.)

The worst part is when the symptoms suddenly disappear.

Now you’re not relieved.

You’re suspicious.

Why did it stop?

Was it waiting?

Is this the calm before the storm?

You start poking yourself, trying to trigger it again. Because at least when it hurts, you know what you’re dealing with.

Doctors, by contrast, are wildly underwhelming.

You finally gather the courage, book an appointment, sit in the waiting room like someone awaiting a verdict, and explain everything dramatically.

“I’ve had dizziness, headaches, random pains, and an overwhelming sense of doom.”

The doctor checks your blood pressure, looks at you for six seconds, and says,

“You need sleep. And less screen time.”

Less screen time?

Sir, Google said I’m dying.

Doctors don’t respect your research.

They don’t care that you read twelve articles.

They don’t care that you “know your body.”

They say things like, “Stop self-diagnosing.”

Self-diagnosing is all we have left.

Especially when WebMD adds that beautiful line:

“Symptoms vary from person to person.”

So even if you don’t have the symptom, you might still have the disease.

Amazing system.

And don’t even get me started on fitness trackers.

One day your watch says, “You slept great!”

The next day it says, “Restless night. Heart rate irregular.”

Irregular how?

Cute irregular or hospital irregular?

You spend the rest of the day walking carefully, like your organs are glass.

We live in an age where information is everywhere, peace is nowhere, and every mild inconvenience feels like a medical mystery.

Back pain?

Aging.

Fatigue?

Capitalism.

Anxiety?

You Googled symptoms again.

In the end, most of us survive. Not because Google was right—but because the human body is surprisingly resilient and Google is surprisingly dramatic.

So here’s my medical advice (which you should absolutely not Google):

Drink water.

Sleep more.

And for the love of sanity, stop typing your symptoms into a search bar.

If something is actually wrong, your body will let you know.

And if it’s not, Google definitely will.