STAT means now. Everything else means consult a specialist.
Treatment given before surgery to shrink tumors first—reverse-order medical strategy that confuses patients.
The organism (you) that a pathogen invades and uses as real estate—basically becoming an unwilling landlord.
When the heart's interior lining gets inflamed, usually from sneaky bacteria throwing an uninvited party in your cardiac chambers. It's basically sepsis, but with more dramatic consequences for your most essential organ.
Magnetic Resonance Imaging—using powerful magnets and radio waves to create images without radiation, perfect for hypochondriacs.
Anything relating to a fetus—the pre-born human in its gestational glory. Used to describe everything from fetal development to fetal distress, because apparently 'baby-related' wasn't scientific enough.
When your blood performs a disappointing job of oxygen delivery—courtesy of too few red blood cells or hemoglobin skipping work. The result: paleness, fatigue, and the sudden discovery that climbing stairs is now a cardio event.
To examine by listening, usually with a stethoscope—the method that makes everyone think doctors are contemplative.
A consequence or complication that shows up after a disease resolves—the unwelcome gift that keeps giving.
In evolutionary biology, your reproductive success score—measured not in gym visits but in viable offspring that survive to breed. That gaudy peacock's tail? Terrible for dodging predators, excellent for fitness, which explains why he has so many descendants despite being a walking target.
Anything remotely related to digestion or the digestive system—as in 'peptic ulcer,' that burning sensation caused by stomach acid throwing an absolute tantrum against your stomach lining. It's the body's passive-aggressive way of complaining.
A disease that gets better and worse in cycles—basically playing emotional roulette with your health.
An obscure protein in your blood plasma that acts as hemoglobin's personal bodyguard—binding to free hemoglobin to prevent oxidative damage and keep your blood chemistry from rusting from the inside out. It's the unsung hero of hemolysis prevention.
Abnormally low blood pressure—when your cardiovascular system decides to work in slow motion.
The classification and naming of diseases—taxonomy for the things trying to kill you.
To examine by touch—the doctor's way of pressing on you while maintaining professional composure.
Complete Blood Count—a laboratory test that counts every type of blood cell to determine if your immune system is throwing a party or having a meltdown.
Excessive urine production—when your kidneys decide to practice their dilution strategy to an extreme.
A sign or symptom uniquely characteristic of a disease—the smoking gun that makes diagnosis obvious.
The percentage of people in a group who die from a particular cause—basically medical math about inevitable human demise.
A substance that kills bacteria or inhibits their growth—humanity's favorite chemical weapon against microscopic invaders.
An objective indication of disease that the physician observes or measures—the evidence that proves the patient isn't imagining it.
Cancer's worst party trick—when tumor cells go on a malignant road trip and set up shop in new locations throughout your body. It's the medical term for 'really bad news, now distributed.'
The complete absence of sexual desire; what you've got when your libido took an indefinite vacation and forgot to leave a forwarding address.
The microscopic detective work of examining tissue samples under a microscope to determine if they're cancerous, infected, or just being their weird normal self. It's the tissue gossip your doctor actually needs to hear.