There’s nothing wrong with virtual GP appointments when it comes to renewing a prescription or discussing your sleep habits. They’re simple enough.
However, try describing a rash over the phone, or miming your way through chest pain on a dodgy video call, and suddenly the whole thing feels like a bad comedy sketch. Yet somehow, more and more patients are being expected to diagnose themselves while their GP sits miles away behind a screen. Here are some of the most ridiculous things doctors have tried to assess without actually seeing the patient in person.
1. Rashes you “just need to describe” in detail
There’s something uniquely maddening about being asked to describe a rash over the phone. “Is it red? Raised? Blistered?” You’re squinting in the mirror like you’re playing dermatology charades while someone jots notes a hundred miles away. It’s skin. You have to see it.
Even sending a photo isn’t always the miracle fix it sounds like. Lighting, camera quality, angles—suddenly you’re a medical photographer with zero training. And still, they somehow conclude it’s “probably nothing.” Meanwhile, you’re googling “weeping wound” and panicking alone.
2. Chest pain they can’t listen to
Try telling your GP you’ve got chest pain and watch how quickly it becomes your responsibility to judge whether or not you’re having a heart attack. “Is it sharp or dull? Does it spread?” You don’t know because you’re not a cardiologist. That’s why you called. Chest pain shouldn’t be a “wait and see” situation you manage from your kitchen table while someone listens in on speakerphone. But here we are, in a world where breathlessness can be met with, “Ring back if it gets worse.” Comforting.
3. Abdominal pain they want pinpointed with words
“Can you describe where the pain is?” is a reasonable question. What’s not reasonable is trying to diagnose appendicitis, gallstones, or a twisted ovary from someone jabbing at their own stomach while trying to describe it through clenched teeth. They might say, “Touch your lower right side and tell me what you feel.” What you feel is neglected. What you want is someone with a stethoscope, not a GP relying on your best impression of a medical textbook diagram.
4. Injuries that clearly need to be looked at
There’s a particular kind of madness that comes with being told to “move it around and tell me how much it hurts.” You’ve rolled your ankle, can’t put weight on it, and the GP’s asking you to perform some weird, self-led physio assessment over Zoom. Swelling? “Can you compare it to your other leg?” Bruising? “Is it purple or more of a deep red?” No clue, because again, you’re not trained for this. But sure, let’s gamble on your possibly fractured bone being “just a sprain.”
5. Ear infections they can’t see or hear
“Does it feel full?” they ask, while your kid screams in the background and you’re Googling how to get an otoscope delivered same-day. There’s no looking inside the ear. No testing for fluid. Just vibes and the faint hope that antibiotics might work.
If it’s your own ear, it’s somehow worse. Try describing “a stabbing, echoing, muffled throb” and see how far that gets you. And yet somehow, this is still deemed “suitable for remote assessment.” Even when half the call is you going “Sorry, can you repeat that?” because you can’t hear properly.
6. Throat infections via flashlight and guesswork
“Can you shine a light into your mouth and hold your phone up to it?” is an actual thing people are being asked to do. The result? A blurry photo of your uvula and the vague hope they’ll spot something concerning before you gag. You’ve got white spots, a burning throat, and glands like golf balls. But because you don’t have a fever, they suggest it might be viral. Possibly. Probably. Maybe. If it doesn’t go away in ten days, try again, maybe with better lighting this time.
7. Breathing issues over the phone
There’s something darkly hilarious about reporting breathing problems only to be told to “breathe normally” into the phone while they listen. As if a crackly mobile mic is somehow going to pick up on subtle wheezing or chest tightness. They ask how long it’s been going on, if you’re coughing, how much phlegm, and then usually guess at a chest infection. No listening to your lungs. No checking oxygen levels. Just another case of “probably fine, unless it isn’t.”
8. Mental health crises with a five-minute limit
You’re spiralling. You’ve finally worked up the courage to call. And the GP says, “We’ve only got a few minutes, so what’s going on?” As if panic, despair, or suicidal thoughts can be summarised like a sore throat. They mean well, but the system doesn’t give them time. And what could’ve been a life-saving check-in ends up feeling like you’re being rushed off the phone before you even get to the hard part. Not every crisis can be squeezed into a calendar slot.
9. Skin conditions from pixelated photos
Whether it’s eczema, psoriasis, or a weird rash you’re praying isn’t contagious, being told to take a photo and send it to an online portal feels deeply inadequate. You try, but it ends up blurry, with bad lighting and no context. The GP replies, “Looks like it might be fungal.” You think, “Looks like you’re guessing.” And now you’re treating something you’re not even sure you’ve identified properly, based on an image you took in panic at 2am with the flash on.
10. UTIs without proper testing
You describe the burning, the urgency, the general misery. They ask a few questions, nod along (you assume), and prescribe antibiotics without a urine test. You take them, nothing changes, and now you’re back at square one, but resistant to the first-line treatment. It’s not just uncomfortable, it’s risky. UTIs that go untreated properly can lead to kidney infections, and you can’t diagnose that over the phone. But still, you’re expected to give it a go. If it goes wrong, that’s on you.
11. Swollen lymph nodes they never actually check
You tell them you’ve got lumps in your neck. They ask if they’re “firm or squishy.” You try to decide whether you’re touching muscle or something that shouldn’t be there. The call ends with a vague “probably reactive” and no hands-on exam. Even when it’s something persistent, it often gets brushed off unless you really push. You’re left feeling like a hypochondriac, even though you just wanted someone to actually check your body, not trust your best guess.
12. Migraines through a checklist
Try explaining your debilitating migraines to someone reading from a script. “Do you have visual aura?” “Is the pain throbbing?” It’s like being quizzed for a diagnosis you already know, except no one’s there to check your blood pressure or rule out anything serious.
You might get a prescription. You might get told to track your triggers. But if you’re hoping for a real neurological assessment? Forget it. You’ll need to go through another maze of referrals, and hope someone eventually sees your actual face.
13. Sprains, strains, and possibly broken bones
You describe a fall. It hurts to move. There’s swelling and bruising. They suggest paracetamol and resting it. Maybe ice. Maybe compression. All without laying eyes on you. You ask about an X-ray. They say, “See how it feels in a week.” This is the kind of medical roulette that leaves people walking around on fractures because the pain didn’t sound urgent enough over the phone. Sometimes you need an actual exam. Not a flowchart.
14. Gynaecological symptoms they can’t examine
Try describing anything below the waist, and you’ll quickly realise how awkward phone consultations can get. You list symptoms. They throw out suggestions, but at no point is an actual exam part of the conversation unless you push for it.
Pelvic pain, abnormal bleeding, strange discharge, all discussed without anyone checking anything. It’s not that GPs don’t care. It’s that the system’s been restructured to make virtual the default. And when it comes to gynaecology, that’s just not good enough.
15. Anything that “might be urgent,” but you’re told to wait anyway
Worst of all are the symptoms that could be something serious, but you’re told to monitor them from home. “If it gets worse, go to A&E.” Cool. So now you’re stuck trying to self-assess whether your symptoms are annoying or life-threatening — with no training, no tools, and no support.
The pressure to be your own GP — to know when something’s urgent but also not waste anyone’s time — is relentless. And the irony? Most people would rather just be seen once than spiral for days wondering whether they’ve missed something serious.
