Last week I used this column to moan about my spinal column and so expected to be inundated with get-well cards, aromatherapeutic unguents, surgical corsets and old-wives’ tales. Instead I was sent a book the sort that all IT enthusiasts assiduously avoid. So don’t read Zap! How your computer can hurt you, by Don Sellers, unless you’re either prepared to come down with a chronic case of the screaming habdabs or take the necessary precautions to ensure that your computer doesn’t ruin your health.
If you dare open the pages, you’ll soon learn a few more of those smart-alec TLAs (Three Letter Abbreviations) that punctuate the chatter of computer folk: RSI, CTD, CTS, DCS and TNS. But in addition to repetitive strain injury, cumulative trauma disorder, carpal tunnel syndrome, double crush syndrome and tension neck syndrome, you’ll find out more than you wish to know about De Quervain’s Disease, dermatitis, double vision, epicondolytis, rotator cuff tendinitis, tenosynovitis and a host of other ghastly afflictions induced by too much time at the keyboard. Indeed, compared to the computer, those rats that carried the Black Death begin to look positively cuddly.
The root of the problem is simple enough: Homo erectus was designed to lope along the plains hunting wild boar, and not to hunch over a computer screen. So it’s not surprising that our backs give us gyp, and we occasionally feel as if our heads are about to fall off. It can also explain why a long session at the keyboard can leave Homo anoraksus knackered.
As you sit for hours at the VDU, you’re churning out the lactic acid normally associated with strenuous exercise, and consequently producing all the aches of muscle fatigue experienced by Mr Motivator but without the beneficial effects of having put your cardio-vascular system through its paces. I suspect that the possible inaccuracies in my clumsy summary of Mr Sellers’ explanation will have induced a chronic attack of SLS (Sardonic Laughter Syndrome) in anyone with a pass in human biology at GCSE a qualification, not a TLA disorder. But others might risk the next paragraph on CTDs.
Cumulative trauma disorder is, according to Mr Sellers, “the epidemic of modern times”. Dull aches, localised pain, tenderness, numbness and stiffness in the shoulders, arms, wrists and hands ignore them for long enough and you might end up a chronic sufferer. You don’t have to be Homo anorakus to run the risk of CTD. Each time you engage in an unnatural physical movement pressing keys or clicking a mouse, for instance you cause micro-injuries to muscles, ligaments, joints or whatever bits of gristle happen to be involved.
Each action is harmless, but the cumulative effect over years can cause irreparable damage. Just because you don’t spend the entire day in front of the computer, don’t feel that you’re immune: “CTDs are often subtle affairs, developing slowly over time. Even light strokers and short stinters can eventually develop them”.
I’m going to have to leave eyestrain and headaches to another column in which I’ll also deal with the ozone pumping out of the laser printer, together with the range of skin disorders, allergic reactions, and eye, nose and throat irritations that can result from exposure to the micro-climate created by the fan purring away in your computer. I also feel a duty to write about EMR the electro-magnetic radiation being beamed at you by your hardware. It makes your time in front of the keyboard as advisable as a trip to Chernobyl.
Fortunately, Mr Sellers’ excellent book offers plenty of useful tips on how to protect yourself from the worst ravages of too much IT. So I’ll also be able to devote a column to “safe computing”. In the meantime, I’d advise you to buy a copy of Zap! or, alternatively, to keep well clear of that computer. If that leaves you with time on your hands, you could always go out and hunt a boar.
Zap! Peachpit Press, Pounds 11.99, Computer Manuals Ltd, 50 James Road, Tyseley, Birmingham B11
