The diagnosis: Of all the TV dramas airing this season, my favorite is FOX's "House." The show stars British actor Hugh Laurie as a misanthropic genius with a knack for diagnosing complex medical mysteries. Each episode, Dr. Gregory House writes the patient's puzzling symptoms on a whiteboard and consults his team of specialists, always identifying the disease just in time to save the patient from imminent death. I'm a hypochondriac by nature, and watching "House" has introduced me to a host of obscure illnesses I had never considered. A pulled back muscle or upset stomach has changed from a minor annoyance to a sign of imminent demise. Maybe I have some sort of heavy-metal poisoning, maybe I have an infection eating away at my brain. I probably need an MRI, PET scan and brain biopsy, STAT.
My dad is an emergency room doctor in Arizona. I am cheap and impatient, so I never go to the primary-care physician mandated by my insurance. I just call him instead and run through my laundry list of symptoms.
Because he works in an emergency room, he's rarely impressed with anything except heart attacks and bullet wounds. When one of his 11 children has a health complaint, he rolls his eyes and prescribes "rest." If the child whines loudly enough for several consecutive days, he might recommend the allergy medication Benadryl. It has the very appealing quality of making the user sleepy and, therefore, quiet.
But I call him anyway. In the spirit of cooperation (this is the cue for all doctors to groan), I always Google my symptoms before dialing. That way, I can lead him in the right direction, away from amyloidosis and toward Monkey Pox, for example.
The only problem is that my physician is not engaged or curious like Dr. House. My dad never lists my symptoms on the whiteboard; he refuses to consult his team. He just sighs and pretends to have another call, muttering in parting: "There is nothing wrong with you. You clearly need rest. And some Benadryl."
If only Dr. House were available for a second opinion.
-- Elyssa Andrus