Ophthalmologist Andrew Doan, MD, PhD, is a recovering video game addict. In a book due out soon, "Hooked On Games: The Lure and Cost of Internet and Video Game Addiction" (www.hooked-on-games.com), the Vietnamese immigrant details how he almost lost everything important in his life due to his gaming addiction — his family, his prestigious medical career, his health.

He figures he played more than 20,000 hours of video games over a 9-year period. "I enjoyed playing video games more than I enjoyed eating," he says. "In those early years of gaming, I found a sense of purpose and before I knew it, I was addicted."

At the height of his addiction, while a second-year ophthalmology resident, he played an online game called StarCraft for almost a week straight while his wife and 2 kids spent Christmas break at his in-laws. From 7 a.m. until he'd finally crash at 3 a.m., he spent virtually every hour playing StarCraft. He didn't shower. He hardly ate. He got by on

caffeine and the dopamine rush he got from gaming.

"Video games are a poor man's drug. They dupe the mind into thinking you're connected to the people you're playing online," he says. "I was seeking false accolades and achievement. Instead of building up ophthalmology accolades, I thought it was better to be ranked high in some of the games."

His marriage was crumbling. He became verbally abusive and physically violent. Besides the mental and emotional toll that gaming took on him, a sedentary lifestyle with the video game controller was wracking his body.

He gained 30 pounds (complete with stretch marks). He developed hemorrhoids from sitting so much, urinary incontinence ("You learn not to use the restroom during an intense match," he says) and carpal tunnel syndrome in his right index finger.

Carpal tunnel syndrome turned out to be a blessing in disguise. The only thing Dr. Doan loved more than video games was ophthalmology. The carpal tunnel caused such searing pain to run up his right forearm every time he performed cataract surgery or wrote in the medical chart that it threatened his career.

"That was the turning point, when my ophthalmology career was in jeopardy," says Dr. Doan, now fit and 40 and recovered. He quit video games in 2004, relapsed in 2007 and quit again in 2008.

The beauty of his recovery? He suddenly had 40 free hours a week to devote to what he calls "God-honoring legacies." He's become an expert in online reputation (he authored "Protect Your Online Reputation" on p. 62 of this issue) and search engine optimization. He's helped build a social network for the American Academy of Ophthalmology.

"The Internet is my rehab," he says. "I'm filling my plate up with things that matter."

His message is that video game addiction is very real. He cites studies that show that 1 in 10 U.S. kids aged 8 to 18 is pathologically addicted to gaming. That's 13 million people devoid of innovation and skills to live in the physical world, making up what he calls Generation Vidiot. "Everybody knows somebody who's affected," he says.