The Diary of a Doctor Who Tells

Evening Star, Issue 23451, 16 December 1939, Page 3

The Diary of a Doctor Who Tells

Monday, December 11. “ Nothing will induce; me ' to dripk milk,” said 1 Meg Trayellen this afternoon, having called to see me about her tendency to get a succession of colds. “Why?” 1 asked. “ In the first place I’m not passionately keen on it, and in the second place I don’t want to get fat,” she replied. . “ Milk doesn’t make you fat,” I said. “ You’re the first doctor .live. Heard say so,”; she sniffed in reply. / . “ I can’t Help that,” 1 replied. ■ “But it must make you fat,” she protested. “ Why it’s, all fat itself.”: ■“ No it’s not,” I retorted. , “ Actually, it’s practically all water.” “ Well, why not drink water and have done with it? ” said Meg triumphantly. . . , “ Because it is the infinitesimal other things in milk that matter so much,” I replied. > • ■ “ Milk is between 87 and 90 per cent, water. Think how much you’d have to drink before it fattened you. It is the excellent food and vitamin value of the few solids in it that give it its unchallenged place as the best food in the world for child and adult. As a matter of fact, you could almost call it a slimming diet.” ; .. . i. “ I’d believe a lot, but that’s jmt about too much,” said Meg. : “ Believe it or not, Mrs. Ripley,” ;I said, “ it’s true all the same.”

Everyone’s tired of .hearing of the virtues of milk, but the ■ consumption per head of the population still remains about half a pint a day. The chief trouble is the adolescent who, whether male or female, seems to think that the continuation of milk indicates some sort of perpetuation of childishness. Actually, the leaving off of milk is more likely to indicate this phenomenon.

Tuesday, December 12. I “He got it in the ■week-end,” said Mrs Pranton, displaying the back of her 10-year-old son. It’s his own fault, I told him not to stand about on the sand with only his trunks on, but you know what boys arc. And now just

look at Him.” - ' . , ! Harry Prantdn’s back was ted as tho sotting sun, but, fortunately, the skin hadn’t broken anywhere. ; . 7 ' “ I’ve been putting olive oil On it. Is that goodP ” hsked the mother. ;. “ Not bad,” I replied, “ but I would suggest calamine lotion, , Shake the bottle well before you use it. Put a towel round the area, pour somej into the cup. of your hand, and let it. run gently over the affected part. You cap use it every few hours! Probably the smarting will have gone by ' the day after to-morrow.” ' ~, „ , “ That’s a relief,” said Mrs Pranton. “ But supposing it had blistered. What then? I’d, better know, because we re going away for the Christmas holidays and he’ll probably get burnt again.’ “ Be very careful of blisters,” I replied. “Treat them as you would other blisters, and if a doctor’s handy get him to nave a look at them. It there’s no help near at; hand prick them with a sterilised needle and see that the’ area is kept perfectly clean and away from all source of infection. However, there’s no . need for anyone to blister these days when we know so much about sunburn. ; Get him to wear a singlet for a while and see that ho doesn’t expose his shoulders for more than, half an hour or so the first day, gradually increasing the tune as tho holiday goes on.” ■

Wednesdayj December 13. The family doctor has to know more than he is taught in the 'medial school; Many a time he is asked problems not mentioned in any text-book and almost beyond human solution. Such a one presented itself to me to-day im the persons of Norman Chant well and his six-year-old son. ... Chantwell came to evening surgery and refused his turn in the ofueue. “ I’ll wait till the end;” I heard him sav, as Patricia waved him in. ■ Iye only come for a bit of a yarn with doot0“ It’s' about my boy, really, *’ he said,, half apologetically, when the others had'gone in, “ although 1 m involved as well. I’d better get straight to the point. You know that ntf marriage hasn’t befih the happiest' one in the suburb. There’s noactUal open break, but I’m afraid I’ve failed to hold my wife’s interest. I don t necessarily blame her for,that.” ; , “ Has she left you? ” I asked. “ Not. openly,” he replied. ; fehe goes off for weeks at a stretch,, staying with various people or on her own. Very occasionally she takes the boy With her. I don’t think she’s very interested in him, though he adores her. Our housekeeper looks after us. Last week i found, out that she was more than interested in someone else, though .1 doubt very much whether she would risk the scandal of a divorce if she could help it. Actually, I r have been told I have, legal grounds tor it, he added quietly. ' ■ ■ ' , He got up from his chair and looked with unseeing eyes out into the night. “ You’re wondering what to do? I aS '?Yes,” he said. “ Although I know I would make it my business to get along reasonably, with her if she promised to drop this other affair, 1 wouldn’t' say I could, ever love her again.” , . ■ “ And why doh t you want to divorce her? Is it to save her feelings? ” I aS “ e i ; m nfraid not,” ho replied. “ it’s because of our son. T feel that when we brought him into the world we took upon ourselves a permanent responsibility, Ido not think I have any right

Milk is Really Slimming

to take liis mother from him, or even to give him another mother.” : “ There’s a possibility of the latter ?’S I asked. - . . “There might be if it was allowed to develop that way,” ho replied guardedly. “ Someone who .‘would make him a very good mother, too.” “ But it wouldn’t be his own mother?” I suggested. “Exactly,” ho replied. “It wouldn’t he the mother I know ho loves, and the mother who bore him.”

It’s a problem,” I said, pushing the cigarette box over •to him, 4 “ and I’m not going to presume to advise you on it. By the way you have spoken I gather that your line of action, is going to be dictated purely by the best interests of the boyr’

“ You ’ye said it,’’ ho answered* “ Because we’ve failed, I don’t see why the boy should be deprived of either* his natural father or mother. As I’ve been talking to : you here . ; . it’s funny how talking about anything seems to make it clearer . . . I see that what I’ve got to do is to try and persuade her . . and myself ... to think reasonably as two humans: with, rather a sacred responsibility towards another human they’ve created. 'We’ve got to make a do of it if it’s humanly possiblc. You agree?” “'I can’t help but agree,” I said* “Your hoy’s a fine little chap. Ha has every child’s right to (his own father and mother. Why not write to your wife to-night and put that point of view to her?” “ 0.K.,” he said. '

It is. impossible to pick, up- any; , child delinquency treatise ■ without' seeing pointed reference to the factor, of “the:broken home”‘as’the outstanding, causation of the problem child. ’- Al parent who fails to consider that > before contemplating divorce or separation _ is simply refusing to do, his or her job. ,: . ■ ■ '■

Thursday, December 14, “ All my life I’ve wanted to* have a garden, and now that I’ve been able to do something about it, just see what has happened,” said Richard Leadlovr disgustedly. i /'He displayed two unpleasant-looking hands and wrists, each being -■ red, scaley, and showing tiny' blisters.' He said they itched.-

“You’ve got some coming on .your forehead and the back.of the neck,’’ I told him. . . ■ ■ “ Thought so,” said Richard. .‘lt's been itchy in both places all day. Mr blood must be, shockingly out of order.” ■ “ I don’t think it’s anything to do with your blood,” I said, “ One of hhe most popular of all fallacies is that skin eruptions are intimately connected with what is vaguely colled bad blood.” ■

Further questions revealed the fact that the eruption came a few hours after Richard had done his first gardening, and then the secret becam® plain. ' “You’ve got ,a dermatitis due to your being susceptible to a certain plant,” I told him. “ It’s not at alt ,au uncommon thing. Most,of us are susceptible to poison .ivy, for instance; but others of us are ;)affected by common, weeds' grasses, or even garden flowersi Sometimes it' affects the skin,- other times the nose or lungs, and we get hay fever or asthma.-Last week J saw a patient who suffered severely if sho got near Iceland poppies. I’m afraid you’ll have to give up gardening for ..a while till we find out just what it is that is your particular enemy. I’ll get an allergy specialist to have a look ■at you.” ■ Richard wanted to know why the rash picked out 'certain parts of , the skin and left others alone. I explained that it was just where the weed had come in contact; the hands naturally being, first affected. ■■ . ; “ When you wipe the perspiration off your forehead or the back of your neck you make contact with the weed in those particular parts,” I added. “ You’re lucky you haven’t got it oa the ankles, too.” Friday, December 15. Nothing shakes the public’s confidence in the bottle of medicine as : a cure for all ills. Admittedly there are conditions in which medicine is a .valuable help, but there are also conditions in which it is by no means an indispensable accompaniment. About a month ago Mrs _ Turner came along complaining of indigestion, a general feeling of fullness and heaviness, frequent headaches, and constipation. After examining her at some length it seemed obvious that she was suffering from no particular disease. “ Here you are, a woman of 38. getting no outdoor exercise at all,” I.said to her. “ On top of this you are seldom in bed before midnight, and you eat heartily into the bargain. I’ll offer you a proposition. Join a golf club . . . you played a bit some years ago . . . play at least once a week and sometimes oftener,-have a brisk walk every day you don’t golf, get to bed by ,10 a couple of nights a week, and try > your hardest to get an afternoon siesta, even if it’s only for half an hour.”“What’s the: proposition?” slis “The proposition is that if you’re not feeling much in a mouth)* time you needn’t pay the'bill for this visit.” . A ... v* . ; She promised to carry out instructions. and by this mornings mill I received a cheque for, half a guinea pinned to a little note, which read:-- “ I don’t mind losing bets like these. • • « It was a wise man who said that many women would ensure good health by daily dozen and daily dozing. Names in this Diary are fictitious. Copyright.