A man sat in the ER, his face pale and sweating, but he was smiling as if he’d just won the lottery. He had stopped taking his life-saving HIV medication months ago because of an “online consultation.”
“I met a witch online,” he told me, his voice full of pride. “She sent me these special herbs every month to cure me. And it worked. I took her online test, and it said I’m 100% clean.” I reached into his backpack and pulled out a bag of what looked like crushed kitchen spices. The smell hit me immediately—it was nothing but dried oregano mixed with something that smelled like household bleach.
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He refused to believe the blood tests I ordered, insisting the “witch’s” digital questionnaire was more accurate than modern pathology.
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