Ms Self Diganosis

If whinging about imaginary ailments was an Olympic sport then Eliza must be Complain Bolt. She sets the gold standard in self-diagnosis, hypochondria and dramatic attention seeking. 

Eliza catches up with a mate for lunch, “so what’s new girl?”. Eliza starts blubbering like she’d watched the ending to Bambi while on acid, “just to add to all my other problems I am now lactose intolerant, I had a coffee on Tuesday and I felt so sick, I had to go home”

It’s true she was as sick as a backward Monster cap, but it had less to do with the tiny bit of dairy she had a lot to do with the 10 bottles of Rosé she demolished on the weekend. That old chestnut, as they say.

Nevertheless, you don’t milk a lot of sympathy for thrashing your body like it was ice-enthusiasts stiffy on day 3 of a bender, so lactose it is. 

See, she needed a new condition after diagnosiing herself with OCD because she spent 2 hours following a TikTok tutorial to organise her pantry. It was clear evidence in her mind but her friends just didn’t seem to agree.

To make matters worse, she has woken up today with a headache and a cramping sensation in her stomach. After 4 negative RATs and half a morning of intense Googling Elisa has convinced herself she is patient X for some kind of super virus not yet identified by the WHO.

Of course, a less dramatic individual might see how a couple of glasses of water goes down. After all, she can still taste the mistakes from the weekend in the back of her throat.

Nevertheless, Eliza is very much a dramatic person and takes a day off and calls her local GP’s practice. The receptionist knows her by voice and books her in for an “emergency consultation”.

Her GP summons all the strength he has to see his least favourite patient, “Eliza? Come this way”. She drags her slightly run down arse throught he clinic while checking the notes she made on her condition on her phone.

Eliza proceeds to give her doctor a refresher course medicine. Explaining her Google findings lead her to believe she is the world’s most poorly human and will need an iron tranfusion as well as a fecal implant and 100mg of Atazanavir STAT. Move over Kerser, Eliza is the sikest.

Her doctor takes a contrary view, “perhaps feeling run down is related to some lifestyle choices Eliza”. She doesn’t take that well. Her Googling certainly didn’t incidate she was merely “run down“.

After walking away with a prescription to shut the fark up, Eliza casts the attention net wide and “seeks recommendations” for a new GP.

She goes on to add, “Hi everyone, I just had the worst experience, I can’t believe how uncaring doctors can be, not treating the seriousness of my condition with any respect!!!”

Her inbox gets flooded like it was an Insta-hoe on#freethenip day. Exploiting the sympathies of her friends is always the best medicine.

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