Mexico City and Los Angeles

Wanda Stroud gripped the armrests as the 737 accelerated down the runway at Mexico City’s International Airport.

The fluttering in her stomach increased as the plane left the earth and climbed, the force pushing her into her seat. Taking deep breaths, she glanced out her window at the metropolis rolling below. The jet ascended higher and higher, until finally it leveled off. Relief washed over her.

Wanda might be a nervous flyer—okay, I’m nervous about a lot of things since I lost Ed—but she would not let it prevent her from traveling, especially since it concerned her medical condition. She’d hoped the specialists in Mexico would identify what she had and treat her, unlike the doctors in California.

She’d always been vigilant about her health, constantly checking for signs of illness. Always anxious about whether a sore throat or runny nose was an indication of something serious, then consulting her doctor to see if she needed immediate attention.

One night, a couple of months ago, Wanda had watched a TV program about a woman who had what was feared to be a new form of incurable cancer. Convinced she had the symptoms, Wanda went to her doctor, who ran a number of tests.

“Your results are negative. You’re fine,” Dr. Singer said, smiling at her from behind her red-framed glasses.

But Wanda didn’t believe that she was well. She went to a second doctor, who, after testing Wanda, agreed with the first doctor’s findings; there was nothing wrong with Wanda’s physical health.

Still, Wanda suspected the tests were incorrect, and that she’d been misdiagnosed. She feared that she had the new form of incurable cancer. So, she did what she often did—she went online to do her own research. At her own expense, she arranged to go to Mexico to see doctors there, who—according to the online chat groups—were close to finding breakthrough therapies for the cancer that Wanda was convinced she had.

After spending a small fortune and several weeks being examined in Mexico City—first at the renowned research center, then at the cancer institute—the results came back.

“The cancer you are concerned about is extremely rare, and, I assure you, you do not have it.” Dr. Salazar of the University Center had removed his glasses, and looked at her with a measure of mild, but warm, exasperation. Then he gave her the same advice that her doctors in Los Angeles had given her.

“Mrs. Stroud,” Dr. Salazar said, “when you return to Los Angeles, I suggest you consult your physician about relaxation techniques and refrain from online searches about your health. Your family doctor might recommend medication or therapy to help you with your anxiety and coping skills every time you think you experience a symptom.”