It seems I get hundreds of junk emails every day, most of them offering me to STOP something: stop ear buzzing (tinnitus), stop neuropathy, stop tax debt, stop toenail fungus, stop hemorrhoids, stop erectile dysfunction (Which, by the way, if the internet is smart enough to know my shopping habits, my birthday, and my deepest fears, why hasn’t it figured out that I’m a woman?)
What I’d really like to stop is junk email.
I just deleted 5,333 emails. I’m guessing about 5,330 of them were pushing some miraculous medical breakthrough. Okay, fine—I admit even though I try to get rid of this junk every day, I don’t tidy my inbox daily like some hyper-organized folks, so these have been piling up for months. But still.
It’s like I’ve been transported back in time to the Wild West, where modern-day snake oil salesmen are pitching their potions. Except, back in the day, they at least had the courtesy to roll into town only once in a while. Turns out, a lot of their so-called remedies were loaded with cocaine, amphetamines, and opium-based concoctions. (1) Maybe that’s why the remedies were so popular and no one complained.
These spammy emails hit my inbox at lightning speed. I used to be diligent about unsubscribing or blocking them, but the senders are always a step ahead. Like whack-a-mole; for every email address I block, another pops up.
Here’s the real mystery. This tsunami of spam is hitting my primary email—the one I give to friends, doctors, and medical apps. Meanwhile, my designated “junk” email address, the email I use for online shopping and random newsletters, is practically spam-free. In February, it collected a total of 31 spam emails. Just 31! Meanwhile, Gmail’s “promotions” tab corralled about 200 marketing emails, but not a single one offering to cure my tinnitus, toenail fungus, or erectile dysfunction.
So what does that mean? That the only people I trust with my real email address—friends, doctors, insurance companies, and healthcare facilities—are betraying me? Selling my email to anyone who gives them some money? My guess is yes (except hopefully not my friends).
It’s ironic because the very people responsible for my well-being may be fueling my anxiety and raising my blood pressure with their never-ending junk mail.
I’ll admit, I’ve been tempted to click on some of these emails. Especially the ones about dementia:
“Dementia Warning—Common Bedtime Habit Skyrockets Risk!”
Should I open it? What if I’m doing this terrible thing every night without realizing it? Instead, I took the safer route and Googled it. Turns out, the supposedly sinister habit is… wait for it … going to bed early. (2)
Phew! Crisis averted. I’m a night owl. But then I kept reading: sleeping over nine hours a night increases the risk. Uh-oh. Sometimes in the morning I linger in bed, reading and dozing. But wait! Can I deduct those hours of sleepless reading and midnight bathroom trips from my total sleep hours?
Dr. Google also said the National Institutes of Health found that sleeping on your back for too long can up your dementia risk. (3) Yeah! Dodged that one, too. I sleep on my side.
Still, it’s tempting to fall for the other lures in my inbox—thicker hair, getting rid of crinkly skin. But I live in a retirement community, and let’s be real: if those miracle creams actually worked, my neighbors would have no wrinkles and luxurious, thick hair.
And junk emails aren’t the only ones trying to fool me. The ads in my favorite word game app are just as ridiculous. One minute, they’re showing a woman who looks 100; the next, she’s slathered on some mystery cream and now she’s a fresh-faced 40-year-old. I’m not buying it—literally or figuratively.
Then there are the scam emails that pretend to be from my bank or credit card company, warning me that my account is about to be closed unless I “verify” my information. The funny part? I don’t even have an account with that bank or that type of credit card.
It’s called phishing—posing as a legitimate company to create a sense of urgency and trick people into handing over their money and personal information. And it works, otherwise, these crooks wouldn’t keep casting their lines.
So, what’s the solution? I could switch emails. Start fresh, like people who move to escape debt collectors. Or maybe I should start replying to these spammers with emails of my own:
“Dear Sir/Madam, I appreciate your concern for my neuropathy, but I have bigger problems—like figuring out how to unsubscribe from your nonsense. If you have a cure for that, let me know.”
In the meantime, I’ll keep hitting delete. Because if I’ve learned that the only real cure for spam is the delete key and a good sense of humor.
References
Snake Oil, Wikipedia
Jeanna Smiley, Dementia: Early bedtime, sleeping over 8 hours linked to increase risk, Medical News Today, September 26, 2022
Head Position During Sleep: Potential Implications for Patients with Neurodegenerative Disease, NIH National Library of Medicine Jan 22, 2019
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