Menswear - The Founder

24 The Founder | Wednesday 23 February 2011
Hypochondria:
a health condition
in its own right.
Kate Brook
Features Editor
No one gets through life without
a health scare. Everyone knows
what it is to rush to the doctor in
a panic, or to scour self-diagnosis
websites with bated breath and
sweaty palms. After a trip to the
doctor, however, and perhaps a test
or two, the majority of us go back
to everyday life and forget all about
it. But some do not. Some cannot.
Some remain so convinced that
their symptoms are the sign of a
terminal disease that no amount of
reassurance can convince them otherwise;
others are so scared of what
their doctor might say that they are
unable to make an appointment in
the first place. Hypochondria, now
known as health anxiety or illness
phobia, is frequently dismissed as
needless fretting, a trivial concern
of the neurotic and the self-absorbed.
But in reality it is a genuine,
disabling psychological condition,
and it can have a devastating effect
on a sufferer’s ability to lead a
happy and fulfilling life.
When I was sixteen, I spent the
best part of a year convinced I was
dying of multiple sclerosis. It began
when I watched ‘Hilary and Jackie’,
the biopic of the legendary cellist
Jacqueline du Pré, whose career was
cut short by MS when she was in
her twenties and who died of the
disease at the age of 42, fourteen
years after it was diagnosed. By the
end of the film, du Pré, played by
Emily Watson, is confined to her
bed, unable to control a single muscle
in her body and dependent on
carers to feed, wash and dress her.
It was perhaps not a wise film
choice for someone with a chronic
fear of disease. But I didn’t think
of that. I just thought it was a good
film, so I watched it again, and
again, and as I watched it, something
happened in my brain. In
the weeks that followed, I began to
wonder if I wasn’t exhibiting some
of the same symptoms du Pré had
experienced in the early stages
of her illness. The tired feeling I
sometimes had in my legs, especially
when I climbed stairs – did it
mean something was wrong with
me? My hands trembled sometimes
too – should I be worried? The
tingling sensation I occasionally felt
in my back made me uneasy, as did
the muscle palpitations that seemed
to be occurring with increasing
frequency. My concern rapidly
turned into fear. Before long I was
convinced that something terrible
was happening to my body.
Panicking, I googled ‘multiple
sclerosis’. Reading the lists of
symptoms brought me out in a
cold sweat; those I had not already
noticed I began looking for obsessively.
After reading that uncontrollable
head or tongue movements
were always cause for serious
concern, I found myself in front of
the mirror, examining my tongue
for signs of abnormal movement. I
scrutinised my hands and panicked
over the slightest tremor. I held
my arms and legs in strenuous,
unnatural positions and told myself
that any resulting pain or muscle
fatigue was evidence of something
sinister. I even watched my shadow
for twitches and shakes. It comes as
no surprise to me now to learn that
health anxiety is often classified
within the Obsessive Compulsive
spectrum of anxiety disorders.
According to Terri Torevell of the
charity Anxiety UK, some sufferers
of health anxiety will go to their
doctor ‘countless times’. Negative
test results and verbal reassurance
from medical professionals do
nothing to quell their fears. Others,
like me, are the opposite – they
avoid doctors because they are too
afraid to face up to the diagnosis
they believe to be inevitable.
I didn’t just avoid telling my
doctor – I avoided telling anyone
at all. For months, I kept my fears
to myself. I longed for the reassurance
doctors had offered me in
the past, but I didn’t for a moment
believe I would get it. There was so
obviously something wrong with
me, I thought, that anyone I told
would have no option but share
my concern. Whenever I considered
going to my GP I imagined
her recommending, with a grim
expression, that I go to hospital for
further tests, and I simply couldn’t
bring myself to make the appointment.
However miserable they were
making me, I preferred to live with
my fears than risk having them
validated.
Had it occurred to me at any
point that I might be suffering from
an anxiety disorder rather than an
actual physical condition, I would
undoubtedly have been able to
move on much quicker than I did.
Seeking help might have opened
my eyes to the fact that being
‘healthy’ doesn’t necessarily mean
being entirely pain or sensationfree,
and crucially, to the possibility
that my constant state of fear might
not just have been the result, but
the cause of the symptoms I was
experiencing.
‘Anxiety produces very real physical
symptoms,’ says Torevell. ‘With
people suffering from health anxiety,
they misinterpret these normal
physical reactions to anxiety, and
believe them to be signs of their
feared illness.
‘One of the things we often say
to people on the helpline, when
they’re calling in the throes of a
panic attack, is that nobody has
ever died from a panic attack,’ she
continues. ‘The worst thing that
can happen to them is already
happening. And panic attacks and
prolonged anxiety cannot go on
forever. It has its ebbs and flows, it
has peaks and troughs and it will
ease eventually.’
Calling a helpline such as this
might have saved me months of
misery. Instead, I let my fear take
over my life. It cast a shadow over
everything I did. I couldn’t bear
to think about the future – about
going to university, or starting a
career, or travelling the world –
because I didn’t believe I would
live that long. I was plagued by a
constant, nagging worry, which regularly
escalated into panic. Sometimes
I was so scared I couldn’t
think straight. There was no respite,
no situation in which I could feel at
ease. I simply could not escape it.
Eventually, when I could stand
it no longer, I told my mother
everything. Just talking to someone
made me felt better, although it by
no means solved everything. But as
the days and weeks went by, I found
myself feeling more relaxed. I began
considering the possibility that my
symptoms were nothing more than
my body telling me to do some
exercise. The less I worried, the less
I noticed them. Gradually, they
disappeared altogether, taking my
anxiety with them.
But my experience with health
anxiety has left its mark. Even now,
five years later, I avoid reading,
watching or listening to anything
that so much as mentions multiple
sclerosis, and while I don’t fear it
like I did, I do fear the appearance
of some new and unmistakable
symptom. I fear the blind panic
that will inevitably ensue. I fear the
sinking feeling, the cold sweat, the
rising heart rate. Most of all, I fear
the possibility that next time, my
worries will be justified.
Health anxiety is not trivial, and
nor is it comic. It can ruin people’s
lives. It ruined a good few months
of mine, and I am fully aware that
it might do so again. But next time,
at least, I will know that I am not
alone, and that help is out there,
and that I do not have to suffer in
silence.
Anxiety UK is the nation’s
leading anxiety disorders charity.
Advice and support for sufferers of
conditions including agoraphobia,
post traumatic stress disorder and
social phobia can be found at www.
anxietyuk.org.uk, or by calling the
helpline on 08444 775 774. Lines
are open Monday to Friday between
9.30 and 5.30. All members
of staff have personal experience
with anxiety.