The Visible Deformity of WebMD January 25, 2008

There is a bump that has recently swelled on my left shoulder.
 
I could begin to lie spin a tale of a fight or a moment of klutziness that caused this particular piece of ugly. Anything that would be far more flattering than the actual story of this bump. But that would be kind of like how the Bush administration began with 9-11 and, five years later, ended up with a dead Saddam (Ed. note: What? You don’t take every opportunity to bash the Bush administration?). So we’ll try out the truth.
 
It is a mass of pain that not even a bottle of Chilean Red and a box of Barefoot Contessa’s Outrageous Brownies could overshadow when I bumped my left shoulder against a wall while dancing to Ice Cube’s You Can Do It last night. (Ed. note: Suggested music pairing with this post: http://www.deezer.com/track/6077) So I decided to shower. I had – after all – gotten chocolate brownie batter in my hair while showing the world (Ed. note: My empty kitchen) that I Can Do It, Too.
 
And when I undressed? This bump became the only thing I could see. It was, as they say, the elephant in the room that is impossible to ignore – if that elephant had decided to jump onto the back of my left shoulder and stay fixed there. (Ed. note: I just pictured myself as Quasimodo and laugh-cried.)
 
What had begun as a little white bump has apparently transformed into a swelling lump of purple and red and it’s HARD and it hurts. And it’s the size of Montana. Or a Chicken McNugget. Whatever.
 
The real back story of this lump is that it may have first appeared two summers ago (Ed. note: Yes, as in Summer 2006) when I lived in my very first apartment post college, a place I liked to affectionately refer to as The Little Dungeon That Could. It is the reason why I will never live in a ground level apartment ever again. The first place I encountered a cockroach in my life and the place that saw me beginning to fall asleep in galoshes and a can of hairspray. So when I first noticed this bump, I pretended it must be some sort of spider bite and proceeded to move on with the rest of my life.
 
After one and a half years of bump hibernation, the rest of my life has now come to a screeching halt.
 
Finally seeing the ugliness of this bump before my very eyes triggered action, and I did what any normal person who is brave enough to learn that they may have gout or epilepsy via internet does and visited Web MD.
 
Well, no. The first thing I did was google whether spiders could plant baby eggs into people skin and if so, how long they took to burst open.
 
Because I do not normally use WebMD. It’s pointless. While I enjoy the unintentional comedy it can sometimes provide, I made the mistake of learning about roundworm in 10^thgrade Animal Science to know that as long as I don’t know about a certain ailment, I cannot convince myself I have it. And like the little denialist and extremist I am, this suits me just fine.
 
And the futuristic androgynous models that you click on to select symptoms scare me a little.
 
But to WebMD I went. Because, I concluded, why not. If I must learn I have Elephantitis of the Shoulder, I should at least be allowed the comfort of my own home, a bottle of Chilean Red and a mound of cooked butter and chocolate that the Barefoot Contessa dubs a brownie. God bless not ever trusting a skinny cook.
 
Age: 18-24. Check.
 
Bleeding? No.
 
Drainage or pus? No.
 
Lump or bulge? Oh God. Yes. Check.
 
Swelling? Unless the Chicken McNuggets from Saturday night took a course from my mouth to my shoulder, I certainly goddamn hope this monstrous lump is due to swelling. Check.
 
Tenderness to touch? Ouch. Yes. Check.
 
Visible deformity? Hm. Visible deformity. Well, yes. It is visible and it certainly isn’t normal. Check.
 
POP-UP: ! If you have a new visible deformity of your shoulder please seek prompt medical attention !
 
Gah! No, WebMD, no, you do not. There is a reason why I am in my kitchen drinking wine and eating brownies while naked and dripping water from the shower onto the hardwood floors rather than seeking prompt medical attention. Your livelihood depends on people like me. So no, don’t you tell me to seek prompt medical attention. Call 911 and tell the operator that I am calling because WebMD told me to? I don’t like unintentional comedy that much.
 
I continued.
 
Another pop-up.
 
On which side of your body is your visible deformity located?
 
I paused. I had already clicked on the left back shoulder of the futuristic androgynous model to begin this whole process. I wondered if this was intended as some kind of deeper question. But seeing that “Everywhere” or “My brain” were not options, I closed the pop-up unanswered.
 
And I was left with my list of conditions.
 
WebMD explained a “deformity” could be related to a dislocated or separated shoulder. Cellulitis, hematoma, or Crohn’s disease – which is when parts of your digestive tract get swollen and symptoms often include belly pain and diarrhea – were also possible reasons for My Little Tumor. To list only a few.
 
I realized then what the real problem with WebMD is.
 
And it’s not just mistakenly telling people that a bump on their shoulder could mean they have an ulcer.
 
In a doctor’s office, you get to sit, increasingly nervous, on the padded bed with the crinkly white paper that shifts whenever you move your exposed ass due to the uncomfortable robes that I’m still fairly convinced is the medical equivalent of a good joke. When the doctor finally arrives to tell you what you may or may not have, you are just grateful to hear that No, The spots you have been seeing lately are not because of Mad Cow Disease and you happily stroll away to the pharmacy to pick up your inhaler and go along your way. (Oh? I haven’t told you about the time when I went to the doctor’s office this past summer because of a possible sinus infection and desperately wanted antibiotics and my prude of a doctor prescribed me an inhaler that I then took out later that night and sprayed into my Frozen RumRunners at Cactus for fun?)
 

Cactus 2007, May You Rest In Peace and May The Corporation That Tore You Down Burn In Hell

 
WebMD, on the other hand, has too much competition for my attention.
 
I could almost believe WebMD if I really wanted to. I mean, I am just a girl with no MD in her name. Given enough time, I could start justifying its suggestions. “Well, now that I think about it, my stomach did hurt a little bit today after I ate that Chipotle burrito bowl at lunch. And my hands havebeen feeling cold lately and sure, it’s winter, but maybe it’s because my blood is weak and hema-ed and not flowing properly.”
 
But how much time does a girl have to contemplate such matters when she catches a glimpse of these Betsey Johnsons on a website up in the background?

All of a sudden, I don’t really give too much of a damn about anything other than where the hell is my credit card and can I get these delivered to me in the next 5 minutes?
 
And it hits me. As I stand there, with brownie on my fingers and maroon wine tint on my lips, I realize that all WebMD has done is distract me with visible deformities and questionable digestive tract systems while the cause for the bump on my shoulder remains unattended and I purchase pretty things that outweigh my concerns for my health and well-being.
 
So.
 
If you have any ideas what this bump might be, please share. There’s only so long that a girl can feel like her insides and outsides are ugly without wanting to cry in public and whimper, “It hurts, in [Ed. note: Insert dramatic pause] here.” And then point to her heart. Then her head. Then the lump on her shoulder.
 
I’ll leave you the shoes in my will.

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