My iPhone Doctor is Killing Me

The Internet is buzzing about a new iPhone app that can help you self-diagnose skin cancer, but I’m not so sure this is a good idea. A few weeks ago I discovered iTriage, a smartphone app designed by a couple former ER doctors that invites you to input symptoms in exchange for possible diagnoses, and boy did I scare myself to death with it. The app isn’t designed for hypochondriacs — it’s designed to help you spot conditions early on and get treatment quickly — but it certainly brought out some of my hypochondriac tendencies. I’ve revisited some notes and screenshots from my first three days using the app in an effort to share the good and the bad parts of carrying a virtual doctor around in your pocket.

7:15 a.m. – It’s too early to be awake on vacation, especially after a late night spent reading the Internet and suppressing the impulse to blog about it. But I’m awake. Lately, sleeping’s been a chore, so when the sun cracked through the shades about an hour ago, I got up, revisited some Words With Friends games and, for the first time ever, tapped an ad. It takes me to the App Store and without even reading the description, I download iTriage. I’ve been on a health kick lately, so this should be interesting.

8:00 a.m. – After a confusing drive, I find myself waiting in line at the coffee shop checking out my new app. It’s got a bunch of official medical logos. Without reading the terms and agreements I dive in. First stop is the “Symptoms” section, where I find a very fit-looking naked cartoon man (genitals removed). I tap the right arm, and it zooms in. It’s my turn to order coffee.

9:15 a.m. – I’m now deep into iTriage. My too-tall coffee’s been sitting on the table for over an hour, only two sips lighter than when I got it. Coffee can raise your heart rate, which can raise your blood pressure which is symptomatic of pre-hypertension which can, ultimately, lead to to a heart attack. I’m not drinking coffee ever again, I decide.

10:30 a.m. – Still in the coffee shop and still staring at my iPhone, I switch to food: trail mix and a banana. I’m a health nut, I decide. (I’m really not.) This immediately makes me start thinking — and, of course, exploring iTriage for details — about how my stomach is working. Double tapping the stomach on the digital mannequin leads me to symptoms. “Abdominal pain (upper)” looks right, but there’s also an option for “Flank pain.” Flank pain? What am I a cow? I tap this and make it to a list of “Causes,” all of which sound horrible. I’m not even going to list them. Too gross and horrible. I’m going outside to call my dad.

1:00 p.m. – After getting a little distracted outside the coffee shop — flapping under the windshield wiper of my rental car was a parking ticket for illegally parking in a handicap spot — I decide to head to the park. It being sunny and my being in Miami means that this is a big adventure. There are all kinds of new trees and flowers and things. I immediately start searching through iTriage for potential allergies. I find two and decide that I’ve had enough of the park.

4:00 p.m. – I’m finally back at the house. Since I’m staying with some family friends, I’ve moved my clothes into the closet and my toothbrush into the holder on the sink. Teeth! I must see about that wisdom tooth I never had removed. Does iTriage do X-rays? It does not. How about analyze pictures of my gums? Nope. My teeth are important, I realize, so I start looking up gum disease and end up terribly anxious that I’m coming down with something. I tap the Home button, find the Phone app and make an appointment with the dentist.

9:00 p.m. – At dinner, I decide to hide my iPhone from myself.

6:00 a.m. – Somehow, I’m up earlier than yesterday. The sun’s not even up yet, but I’m painfully awake. I had the weirdest dream. It involved a bluegrass band, a baseball team and the Titanic, for some reason. Time to check iTriage. It must do dream interpretations, right? It doesn’t.

9:00 a.m. – The weather is weird today, slightly overcast with spots of sunshine and terribly windy. In lieu of another weird coffee shop experience, I start searching my phone for directions to an art museum.

12:00 p.m. – This town is impossibly confusing. After driving around for nearly two hours trying to find my way to the museum, I ended up on the campus of the University of Miami. They must have an art museum, I decide, so I park the car, ask a passing student if it’s okay to park there (yes) and head across the quad. Of course, I get distracted. There’s one of those bulletin boards with all kinds of neat opportunities like clubs to join, classes to take, studies to participate in. My eyes widen when I see a brain study. It pays in gift cards, and I immediately sign up.

4:00 p.m. – I’m not sure this study was a good idea. Ten or 12 questionnaires and too many iTriage taps later, I’ve decided that there’s something very wrong with my brain. Or it could be my spinal cord. Either way, I’m now making an appointment with a neurologist, thanks to iTriage’s “Find Medical Help Near You” feature. This becomes too complicated with the inevitably confusing insurance process and being confused gives me even more anxiety — is it early onset Alzheimers?! — so I hang up and hide my iPhone from myself again.

7:00 p.m. – I go to dinner with a friend from high school and some of his friends from law school. Being convinced that my brain is shutting down and I might say something crazy or regrettable, I’m a bit shy, so I focus on the fried chicken in front of me. It’s pretty good.

8:30 p.m. – Dinner wound down a long time ago, so I excuse myself and head to the restroom. Where I obviously open iTriage to inquire about some potential symptoms. Tap the head, tap “Confusion and headache.” The top cause is a brain tumor. Terrific.

4:00 a.m. – I can’t sleep. It’s probably because of the brain tumor.

8:00 a.m. – Might as well eat some breakfast. It might be my last.

9:00 a.m. – Breakfast was horrible.

10:00 a.m. – Might as well try to go to the beach for a final dip in the ocean before heading back to New York. I can’t find my shorts, so I guess I’ll just swim in my jeans. But I’ll look like a lunatic — I can just pull up the pantlegs and let the waves wash my feet. It’ll be a religious experience. And now, I can’t find the car keys. My confusion must be getting worse.

12:00 p.m. – The beach is nowhere to be found. Or rather, the roads are so perplexing I can’t even find the way to the Atlantic in a city that’s literally surrounded by it. I end up at the pharmacy, where I buy a pack of seven toothbrushes. Seven is my lucky number.

3:00 p.m. – I’m on foot now, frightened that I might get hopelessly lost if I drive around town any more. I find a bench and sit. Out comes the iPhone. Open goes the iTriage app. Tap goes my thumb on the “Gender” toggle — I hadn’t seen it before — and the bald mannequin man turns into a woman, naked except for the hair on her head. I notice the “Rotate” toggle and tap that, too. She rotates. This is getting interesting.

6:00 p.m. – I have dinner plans in an hour, and I’m most certainly going to be late. My reasons for being late will be very complicated to explain, I’m afraid.

7:00 p.m. – Clearly, I take a wrong turn at the most inopportune time, but I finally find the beach. I quickly pull over, take out my phone, avoid opening iTriage and head to the Camera app. Snap goes the shutter.

7:53 p.m. – I’m nearly an hour late to dinner. We’re at a Greek restaurant sitting outside, and it’s quite nice.

10:00 p.m. – Dinner is over, and I have a too early flight back home, so I say my goodbyes. I realize while I’m giving hugs that I’ve overdone it with the diagnoses. In the past 36 hours, I’ve convinced myself that I have hypertension, a hernia, irritable bowel syndrome, post traumatic stress disorder, multiple sclerosis, Alzheimers, some sort of glandular problem, more vitamin deficiencies than I can count and a brain tumor. This isn’t healthy. I take out my phone on the walk to the car, put my finger on the iTriage icon and hold it until it starts to wiggle. This is how you delete. I slow my stride practically to a crawl. I might need this app when I get back to New York, I think. Maybe to manage my medication or find a doctor or even to help friends when they’re not feeling well. I’m not a doctor, I realize, but it’s always good to have a First Aid kit handy. I hit the lock button and slide the phone into my back pocket. I’ll turn it off later.

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