IIn the summer of 1996, when I was only six years old, I came into contact with the world of medicine for the first time. It was a humid afternoon on the outskirts of Mumbai. I was playing street cricket with my cousins and some other kids. It is the city I was born in, although at this stage our family lived in England after stints in Hong Kong and Nairobi. I stood in the road, waving my bat, as a cousin ran up to me to bowl. As he did so, an invisible force struck him: while holding his stomach, he fell to the ground in pain a few meters in front of me. I ran towards him, with nothing to offer but panic and fear. For all I knew, he was about to breathe his last. At that moment I felt so helpless.
My family rushed him to the hospital, where doctors diagnosed a ruptured appendix. I didn’t know what that meant at the time, but I knew I wanted to know. That feeling of helplessness had a profound effect on me: I decided that when I was older, I would be someone who could respond to a medical emergency, not just stand by. Now that I’m in my thirties, I accept that my six-year-old self can be forgiven. But this deep-seated sensation has shaped my career, first as an NHS surgeon and health advocate, and now, somewhat surprisingly, in the world of social media. With over 8.5 million followers on my channels, I can say with certainty that I am not the typical influencer. My videos are all about the human body, medicine and science: fun, fascinating facts and the history of medical advances; health hacks and tips on how to worry less and live better.
After that incident with my cousin, I wanted a career in medicine. My mother is a doctor and still practices. Now she is a hematologist, but in those early years she worked in emergency rooms and intensive care. That day, when my cousin was safely in surgery, I asked her what was wrong. From that moment on I never stopped asking questions. As a child, I loved the stories she would tell me about interesting interactions, certain patients, and prognosis. Stories about major emergencies and life-changing interventions during night shifts opened my eyes.
At the age of 18, I enrolled at Imperial College School of Medicine in London. I especially loved getting under the skin. Most of all, I was drawn to the practical anatomy sessions. I dissected the abdominal muscles and exposed the entire length of the intestines, several blood vessels and a network of nerves that run through the body like telephone lines. This view of life behind the scenes felt invasive and unnatural, but also essential. It was here that I decided that I would become a surgeon; to understand how our bodies are equipped to destroy us, but also how we can improve them, or adjust our lifestyles, to reduce the chance of us falling apart before the time is right.
During my studies I came across social media. The year was 2012. I had just completed a series of practice exams and realized that there weren’t many good video tutorials online to help my fellow medical students learn and pass. During your training you will be tasked with tutoring students in the year below. I would personally mentor them, and then they would be sent home with few resources to help. That’s why I started my own YouTube channel. In the first, I asked a friend to lie down on the bed and I did a cardiology exam, then a breathing exam, then an abdominal exam. A following of medical students grew, first at the university and then across the country. Soon I had viewers all over the world and it has become a permanent gathering place for medical students.
In those early days, I had no idea how labor-intensive creating YouTube videos could be. Then, towards the end of 2019, I found myself scrolling through TikTok. It was so different: with just a camera and minimal editing, I could make clips straight away.
Now, a few years into my career, I knew it was important to shift my focus. Educating my peers was no longer my sole purpose. Instead, I wanted to speak to the general public. That felt more important for all kinds of reasons. Medical misinformation is rife and a quick Google can convince even the sharpest minds that they have cancer, regardless of its symptoms. I know the feeling: For much of my time in medical school, I consistently diagnosed myself inaccurately. Yes, it’s always best to see a doctor, but what if I could arm people with more facts to help them along the way?
While wellness gurus and pseudo-scientists promote supplements and unsustainable lifestyles, my experience with evidence-based medicine tells us that small, sustainable changes can dramatically improve our health. It is that information that I am determined to get out. Accessible, achievable advice that can change lives.
For example, did you know that the recommended amount of fiber per day for an adult is 30 grams? The average Brit consumes about half of that. Published evidence suggests that increasing your fiber intake by 10 grams per day (that’s two tablespoons of chia seeds, or a pear and some lentils or a banana) can reduce your risk of colon cancer by 10%. A small change with an incredible payoff. And the whole “you need eight hours of sleep” thing? That’s a total myth. We all have clock genes and individual clock proteins in every cell of our body: little clocks that respond to the master clock in the brain (the suprachiasmatic nucleus). These clocks are different for all of us, so one person might need six hours, another might need more than eight. All you need to know is: aim for a consistent sleep and wake time, and you’ll know you’ve had a good night’s sleep when you wake up refreshed.
Did you know that it takes about 90 minutes for 50% of the stomach contents to be emptied into the small intestine? For this reason, it is a good idea not to eat for two to three hours before going to bed. Eating high-fat meals before bed can slow stomach emptying thanks to a hormone called cholecystokin, which can also worsen acid reflux if you have it, and will upset your chicken.
I tested the waters by making videos about strange medical facts to get people’s attention: your stomach acid is strong enough to melt razor blades; the dangers of plucking your nose hairs. Holding in your farts can be dangerous – the gaseous emissions are absorbed into your bloodstream and eventually exhaled through your lungs (yes, fart breathing). You currently have as many bacterial cells in your body as the entire human species. From there I covered every nook and cranny of the human anatomy.
Empowering people with knowledge is not just an educational goal. There is some evidence that it may also improve health outcomes. Take pain: There is research showing that if you explain to a patient how pain works and why he or she experiences it, that information can help reduce the perception of the pain itself. Pain is a physical manifestation of our thoughts, something that happens in our brain. It is not purely mechanical. Explaining how it works can sometimes reduce that suffering. We can apply that logic to many circumstances: knowing and understanding gives you control over the situation. When a patient is in poor health, helplessness can be a heavy burden to bear.
It can be a very strange feeling to have such an intimate understanding of the human body. Sitting in a crowded train car, I can notice the conditions of others – Parkinson’s by the way they walk; hyperthyroidism by the appearance of their eyes – sometimes before they even realize it. Certainly, I prefer to talk about topics (menstruation, bowel movements, blood and intestines) that may be sensitive to people who work in another field. I’m often unfiltered in a way that friends can find it a little off-putting at dinner: there’s even a chapter in my book on how to get the perfect poop… It’s all about angles.
How I view life and death is also colored by this knowledge. I can appreciate the wonder of what’s happening under my skin, yes. I am also aware of how fragile it is; how quickly things can break down and unravel. I’ve seen it happen to patients: you can walk through the door thinking you’re healthy and be dead within a few hours. Understanding all this will help you embrace opportunities and not take a single moment for granted. That’s why I try to live every day to the fullest.
As counterintuitive as it may sound, all of this is why health and wellness are not my only priority. Becoming obsessed can be all-consuming and suck the joy out of life. I prioritize my family, my friends and embracing new experiences, as well as making the healthiest choices, day in and day out. Consider arming yourself with health and medical knowledge as a way to help you make wise, informed choices that can give you more time to do what makes you happy. And believe me, health literacy can help you live a happier life. So why be a stranger to your own inner self?
As told to Michael Segalov
This book can save your life by Dr. Karan Rajan is published by Century for £18.99. Buy a copy for €16.71 Guardianbookshop.com