Ah, the dreaded armchair physician. I've used this term in several of my posts over the years, but don't recall actually giving both of my readers a good definition of that—at least not my definition.
For the sake of keeping things simple, anytime that I refer to a person as an "armchair something," I'm describing a person who claims to be quite knowledgeable about a given subject or topic, but in reality doesn't know as much about that topic as they'd like people to believe: a casual observer comfy in his/her favorite chair doling out advice that may or may not have much or any merit. For instance, an "armchair engineer" can give you lectures all day long about complex mechanicalment, gears, counterweights, properties of materials, etc., and when they finally run out of steam, they really haven't told you anything that you don't already know, anything that makes even a little sense, or leaves you more confused than ever.
While I claim to be reasonably intelligent, it's all too often a false or misleading claim. I'm not really an expert on anything. I can talk your ear off about cars, diabetes, public transit, roller coasters, and a few other topics, but it doesn't mean that I'm an expert—only that I know a little something about a few things that I find interesting. I think almost any of us can do that. Generally speaking, I tend to tune out most "armchair experts," though sometimes one can slip through the crack and catch my interest if what they're saying makes sense. While the interesting folks catch my attention, others are annoying to the hundredteenth power, causing me to tune them out. The dreaded "armchair physicians" are among the worst in my experience.
"Why is that?" you didn't ask. Because unless you've gone to college, medical school, served a residency in a hospital, taken additional courses or training, you likely don't know what's going on inside someone else's body. Just because you know someone who is going through the same thing that, say, I am, it doesn't mean that you know what I'm going through. In particular, while you may know a few things about diabetes, the fact that your great-Aunt Harriet's dog's fleas were diabetic doesn't mean that you have all of the answers that I or any diabetic might need. You may suggest to your heart's content, but do understand that I may feel differently because I'm the one who has to live with the issue!
To be fair, I know that even the most staunch armchair physicians have their heart in the right place. They mean well and want the best for their "patients." They simply need to remember that they may not have all the facts and approach those whom they seek to help with some caution.
Everyone knows that I'm no doctor. But when you have to deal with a certain condition or disease, you ultimately learn a lot about it and tend to be good at managing it if you make the effort to do so. I don't know everything myself. And sometimes I find myself fighting against my own body when it does things or reacts in ways that confuse even me. Contrary to what I wrote in this post, when it comes to my health and well-being, I will ask for help if an issue arises because my well-being depends on it. If I can't find someone who can help, then I get on the internet to search for an answer and try to learn what I can.
