They think I am pretending, they laugh at me behind my back (or even in front of me, those shameless devils), but I despise them just as passionately as they reject me. Do you think I enjoy taking rounds and rounds of hospitals and clinics, a different one each time, watching doctor after doctor frown at me, cut me off mid-sentence, charge enormous fees for 10 minutes of their impatient time? I have spent 20,000 INR just this month alone, on my medical fees. That’s 20% of my salary! You think I enjoy this!? I am going to need this money for my treatment when they finally find out the cause of all this! Will they repay me for the time and money I have spent on them, each time hoping to find a doctor who will listen and sympathise, who will make use of their expensive education and help me. Instead, with each passing year, the doctors coming out of these medical colleges have shorter and shorter attention spans. They throw offhanded judgements and medicines without waiting to listen to the discomforts I have faced for the past 12 years.
I now self-monitor my weight and bloodpressure I myself; I measure them both twice everyday, making careful notes. I have instructed my daughter to video-record me every time I have my pains, to show the doctors how my skin loses its colour, my body goes limp, how I shriek with true pain. I have lost almost as much money on sick-leaves as I have on my treatments. Those doctors might find these videos more entertaining than hearing me speak. Maybe one day all these notes and videos will help a more patient, more understanding doctor get closer to finding the cause of my illness. I lose more weight everyday; my temperature fluctuates every week and my body goes weak with exhaustion without any physical strain. This is not a life anybody wishes on themselves. I will do anything to not be like this, to not inhabit this body…to work everyday without having to rush home every other week, to go out with friends without making excuses for my sickness, to be distracted for even a few hours from the tickings and runnings of my system; and I definitely don’t want to see the snarky face of another doctor who thinks they know more about my sickness that I do myself.
If you want to read a quick description of Hypochondriasis, go here, and this is a slightly longer article explaining Hypochondriasis as an anxiety disorder . This is a more humorous personal account by Woody Allen in New York Times, who has proclaimed himself, on multiple occasions, to have acute debilitating symptoms of hypochondriasis.