The Pervasiveness of Health Trackers

Over the past year or so, I’ve been facing a considerable degree of health-related anxiety. This is new for me, as I've always dismissed minor aches, occasional stomach upsets, or period cramps. Recently, however, I've been struggling with recurring feelings that a different part of my body is unwell every few weeks, even though I know it's in my head since I have little to no actual symptoms. I am very diligent about my health, getting comprehensive checkups every six months, and I have a large medical insurance policy that my friends consider excessive. I maintain a healthy lifestyle by going to bed early, working out daily, avoiding alcohol and most processed foods, and eating at home most of the time. Over the past decade, I have lost several family members and one dear friend, and I suspect these experiences have heightened the awareness of my own mortality.


I can't completely make up my mind about the pervasiveness of health-related technology at our disposal. On the one hand, health trackers are undeniably useful and keep you focused on healthy habits like completing a certain number of steps a day. Health apps send notifications to remind you when routine checkups are due. On the other hand, this technology can make you overanalyse every muscle twitch. You can book comprehensive blood and urine tests online on a whim, with a phlebotomist arriving at your doorstep at the chosen time to collect samples and deliver the results online. Online consultations are available for the slightest issues. These services are affordable, even without the substantial discounts offered by pharmaceutical companies. Additionally, googling symptoms has become yet another way health information inundates our generation.


I rarely fell sick during my childhood, and on the few occasions I did, my family offered homemade remedies. My grandmother taught me to rub warm mustard oil on the soles of my feet if I got wet in the rain to prevent catching a cold. My mother showed me how to chew long (cloves) for toothaches, ajwain (carom seeds) after a heavy meal for better digestion, and elaichi (cardamom) for coughs and colds. At my childhood home, we still grow some of our own vegetables and use neem, gooseberry, and tulsi leaves to make a savoury drink that keeps us warm in winter, while mangoes grown in the backyard are used to make a wholesome nectar that protects against heat stroke in summer. Popping pills and rushing to the doctor at the drop of a hat was not only discouraged but also laughed at. 


I talk to my grandmother, who must be 93 or 94, (she belongs to a time without birth certificates, so we don’t know her birthdate or her precise age), about the health anxiety that troubles me and many others I know. Some people my age get these tests done every two months, because they can afford it. A bit excessive, if you ask me. If they wait any longer, they start imagining aches in their livers and lumps in their breasts. In their 20s, they own blood pressure monitors, oximeters, and blood glucose monitors, checking their vitals every day, often more than once a day. Additionally, a significant number of them utilise wearables that provide real-time readings.


My grandmother seems to think that we don’t work with our hands enough. “At your age, I used to do laundry by hand, and mop up the floor of this huge house twice a day. Good for the body, and good for the mind. Now people pay money to go to a gym to get that same exercise. You get your physical exercise, but your mind is still worrisome,” she says. Perhaps, she is right. Perhaps, we have nurtured a generation of hypochondriacs, even with better medical advancements than any generation before us.

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