I’m not a doctor, but I do have a knack for diagnosing myself with rare medical conditions.
It’s a gift, more or less, that runs in the Bones family. As far as I know, this sixth sense that teeters between hypochondria and medical genius, started way back with Granny Bones. Many unusual diseases and disorders such as the blue finger syndrome, slappy foot, and rot nose were discovered and termed by my very own mammy and pappy Bones without them ever receiving their due recognition.
As for me, being a less “medically” gifted member of the Bones family, I take plenty of guesses at the cause of a stomach pain or headache but can only confirm the condition after extensive Google research. WebMD is generally the final authority. Forget about conferring with a White Coat when the internet is free in most places and available with the right device. There is no appointment needed to double check with Google on a deep cough to find that it is definitely tuberculosis. Why sit in a germ filled waiting room for a doc when you can search ‘bleeding from the eyes’ to find out you have Ebola?
I have just had the misfortune of diagnosing myself with a new condition, perhaps the gravest of all of my imagined conditions, brain mush. There’s no information online to support this disorder, so I hope WebMD looks into this phenomenon and recommends a non-invasive, non-physician involved treatment. If I had to guess the cause of brain mush, it would certainly be from hours of staring at a small screen looking for deals.
I wonder what I was thinking wasting so much time online before my grey matter started to deteriorate into the consistency of day old oatmeal, and I was left with only the promise of a box of thin t-shirts, a copper pot and a pair of distressed pants to be delivered within the next seven to ten days.
Before Cyber Monday, I was decisive and motivated.
I had big thinks.
Now, only mush.