Dr. Google is in

The internet has helped me research history, plan trips to far-flung corners of the globe, and settle countless debates over obscure trivia. Recently, I had a run-in with the one online expert, who always seems to know everything: Dr. Google.

Like clockwork, I went for my routine physical. I dutifully endured the blood work, ECG, ultrasound, and the usual poking and prodding. A few days later, the doctor called with good news. Everything looked great. I left feeling rather pleased with myself.

That feeling lasted exactly two days. Stepping out of the shower one morning, I noticed a small, perfectly round circle on my chest. It was about the size of a quarter. Curious at first, I took a closer look and immediately spotted a second, fainter circle nearby. Then a third.

My mind began racing through recent events. Had I picked up some exotic tropical disease during my recent trip to Namibia? I had been so careful to avoid mosquitoes, questionable food and anything remotely connected to Ebola, that I had completely overlooked whatever this new horror might be.

I decided to wait a few hours, hoping the mysterious circles would disappear. They did not. Like millions of people before me, I turned Dr. Google and typed, "Small round circles on chest." Within seconds came the diagnosis. Ringworm.

The internet helpfully informed me that humans often catch it from dogs and cats. I spent the next several minutes mentally reviewing every furry creature I had encountered over the previous month. Surely there had been a friendly dog somewhere along the way.

By now I had convinced myself I needed immediate medical attention. I drove straight to my doctor's office and explained my predicament to the receptionist. Whether she sensed genuine urgency, or simply recognized the look of panic on my face, she quickly found a spot for me.

My doctor took one look and asked a simple question. "Did you have an ECG a couple of days ago?"

I nodded.

"And did they use suction cups?" Another nod.

Suddenly, everything became crystal clear. The mysterious circles were nothing more than harmless marks left behind by the ECG machine. I sat in embarrassed silence, while my doctor smiled knowingly.

This was the same physician who, the year before, had patiently explained that the alarming red colour I had discovered, was not a life-threatening illness after all. It was simply the generous serving of beets I had enjoyed the night before.

Perhaps Dr. Google should be used for travel planning and not medical advice. I'll leave that to the professionals, and avoid things that are not part of the plan.