THE DIARY OF A DOCTOR WHO TELLS

Evening Star, Issue 22817, 27 November 1937, Page 3

THE DIARY OF A DOCTOR WHO TELLS

WHEN SLEEP COMES HOT Monday, November 22. It is rather the irony of fate that those who need sleep most, the ’teens and early twenties, regard it least, while those to whom it is not so necessary, the middle ages, complain most when they are robbed of it. As an example, to-day Mrs Collins said to me: “ I haven’t slept a wink for nights—you might almost say for We discussed the problem and found, as usual, that the demon worry was lurking very close to the surface. Seldom is it not so in insomnia. There was also a lack of physical tiredness owing to lack of daily physical effort. Seldom is it not so in insomnia. I do not know that 1 have ever seen constant insomnia in anyone whose daily round and common task calls for physical effort to the point of honest exhaustion. Hence, one of the cures for insomnia is a week in the open air, with plenty of golf, tennis, or miles of hiking. Worry? Some cynic said that worry was only caused by two things, the opposite sex and business affairs. While there may be limited variations on these two original themes there is no doubt that they are the tunes to which we all have to dance. Tuesday, November 23.

From the slimming craze that swept the world three or four years ago has emerged a sensible regard for figure and health. The lamp-post girl is out of date, and regular but firm curves have assumed their rightful place in the scheme of things. . I was reminded of these things when. Mrs Isbin came to-day to ask could I give her a list of foods that would give health, but not fatness. She also asked what to avoid if she would keep a normal figure. ‘ . “ A complete answer would run into several pages of foolscap,’’ I said, but if you want it in a few words, here it 1S “ Don’t make the mistake of cutting out milk, butter, and potatoes because you may think they are essentially fattening. Actually potatoes are 80 per cent, water and milk is about 87 per cent. Fattening foods are what we call the ‘ fuel ’ foods, or the carbohydrates. These are the sugars and starches whether you take them in the form of sugar or sweets. Things like meat and bread are halfway, and can be taken in moderation. Fish is quite good, and so are eggs. “ Howeverj” I continued, “ it’s no good my reciting a list to you. There are plenty of good, cheap, popular books on this sort of thing now. Why not get one and try to digest it? There ought to be one on every kitchen shelf these days.”

Wednesday, November 24. Last night after midnight I was summoned urgently to attend, _ shall we say, X. P He had heard a noise on the ground floor of his house, and, rushing downstairs to investigate, had slipped and broken a leg. His wife, who sleeps at the other end of the house, was awakened by his calling for help. That was the story I was told, _ , X. was sent immediately to hospital. To-night his pain has eased, and when I called on my late round he seemed uneasy in mind. “ Don’t you think you’d better have my spine X-rayed, too, doctor?” he “Why?” I asked. “Any pain there He was silent for a minute, and then said: “ I expect you’d better hear the whole story.” “ You know the wife’s interest in temperance?” he began. '“She’s that strict I can’t even have half a drop of ale for dinner. I’ve always been used to a night-cap for some time now, so I’ve kept a bottle of Scotch on top of the wardrobe. I generally have a tot before turning in._ Last night, when standing' on a chair to get the bottle, I fell on my back, and the next thing I knew my leg was broken.” “ But,”' said I, rather puzzled at the problem, “ they found you halfway down the stairs.” “ I had to think quick,” said X. “ The missus is a tiger when she finds anything out, and, in any case, I’d hate to know that she had caught me deceiving her. So I crawled but to the stairs and halfway down. I don’t mind telling you it was agony, and the morphia you gave me when you came was the most beautiful relief I had ever known. “ It all sounds rather silly, I suppose, Doc,” he said, as I stared at him a little incredulously; “but the wife has a sort of idea that I hack her up in her views. It’s her whole life’s work, and I couldn’t bear her to think that I had let her down. "Asa matter of fact, I feel very had about it,” he added, “ especially when this came this afternoon.” He pointed out the card from a bunch of flowers. They were from the local Temperance Society. Thursday, November 25, Though the Jerkins family was of the opinion that Robert, aged throe, was getting the measles, the only thing wrong with him this afternoon was what is popularly known as a heat rash. It was due to overclothing and a firm belief that the time had not yet arrived to dispense with “ woollies,” “ You never know when a cold wind will spring up even at this time of the year,” said Mrs Jerkins, in explanation when I told her the cans© of the trouble, “ and I’m always so terrified of them catching colds and perhaps pneumonia.” Nothing is so firmly rooted in human consciousness as the thought that the human body is unable to cope with a cold wind. Actually there is no foundation for the thought, especially in the case of children, whose natural love of exercise keeps them moving briskly in any case.

The over-clothed child may grow lethargic and lose zest for the constant. movement that is essential to his well-being. And, incidentally, a wellknown authority has pointed out that “crooked spines and ill-formed chests are, among the children of the well-to-do classes, the rule rather than the exception.” While it is true that the remark applied to England and Europe rather than this part of the world, it is still worth our consideration. The pampered child, like the pampered pet, is more to he pitied than envied. And won’t someone invent a new sort of clothing for men for summer? Friday, November 26. When Charlie Long walked into the surgery to-night it was fairly evident •he was left-handed. His hair was parted on the right, and he had a slight impediment in his speech, the latter perhaps due to the fact that some earnest advocate for the commonplace had been trying to force him to line up with the herd. The world has always strongly disliked left-handed people. “ Sinister ” is merely Latin for “ left hand.” Lefthanded people wore once thought to have suspicious connections with the devil. Though occasionally teachers and parents still try to insist that lefthanded children change their natural instinct and do everything the most uncomfortable way for them, fortunately that outlook is dying fast, and these days children are allowed more than formerly to follow the more reasonable dictates of Nature. Names in this Diary are fictitious.—Copyright,