TALKS ON HEALTH

Greymouth Evening Star, 31 October 1931, Page 9

TALKS ON HEALTH

ABOUT BLUSHING [BY A FAMILY DOCTOIt.J This week we will try to understand the Question of blushing. I am glad some of you can still blush. It is not altogether a bad sign. You have heard the expression, “an unblushing scoundrel,” and when you want to say something nasty about your dearest friend you say he could not blush if he tried. But in some unfortune individuals blushing becomes almost a disease, and the cheeks suffuse when there is no earthly reason. It is most trying for an innocent man accused of some crime to find himself blushing to the roots of his hair. THE MIND AND THE BODY To start with, excuse me for reminding you that you have a mind as well as a body and that these two are dependent one on the other. A bad temper may give you indigestion, or a bad digestion may give you a temper. When you cry at some sorrowful news the tears come in consequence of your mental condition and the way to prevent the tears is to govern the mind, not to put some anti-tear lotion in your eyes. Mental worry may take away your appetite and your sleep, and your, normal health will not be restored by drugs until the worry is removed or overcome. Treat the mind, not the body. A man may get into his head that he is so wicked, such a miserable sinner, that he will never be forgiven, and he may, in consequence of his erroneous belief, worry himself into a weak state of health, [f you want to cure this man you must treat his mind, not his body. And now, having established this fundamental fact, that abnormal conditions of health with their real origin in the mind must be treated and cured through the mind, we will, with your permission, return to our subject of blushing.

A MENTAL DEFECT Blushes arise in the mind. Strictly speaking, it is not a physical defect but a mental defect. If_you asked me how to cure blushing I should tell you at once that you may be cured, but only by making a stern mental effort and persevering for a long time. I do hot agree that, because you blush and feel uncomfortable in society you ought to keep away from people as much as possible. You ought to train yourself by constant mental discipline to maintain your composure. The first time you go to a party and ask a young lady for a dance you will blush all over; the second time you will feel a little more at home, and by practice and perseverance you will overcome the nervousness of your mind that causes the blushing. PERSEVERANCE When you enter the ballroom choose out the young lady who most resembles the bolster you are accustomed to, and deliver your speech, and when you find you can do it without blushing think of me and bless me. Join a debating society, and make some sort of. speech at all costs. If you can stand on your feet for a few minutes in front of everybody it will bo a good start, even if your tongue cleaves to the roof of your mouth and you say not a word. Your friends will give vou a little symapthetie applause. Stick to it, and at the end of the year you will be a fair speaker and you will be able to demolish your opponents without a single blush. “I NEVER BLUSH.” It is all a matter of mental discipline. I shall never forgive you if you swallow -thirteen bottles of medicine and then write to me and say you experienced no improvement. The mind and the body are connected very closely. There are diseases of the mind and diseases of the body. One man has a brilliant* intellect and a feeble body. Another has splendid health, but is half mad. A third has a mental infirmity which manifests itself in some bodily defect, and under his latter category we must place blushing. A child who blushes should be treated with sympathy and kindness. It is cruel to make the child worse by laughing at him. There are some people w’ho blush so much that they only feel comfortable when they are so tanned by the summer sun that the blush does not show. If the doctor recommends you to go to the seaside for three months to get burnt, ask him to pay for the holiday and you will go. How do you suppose I ,’elt when I saw my first patient in bed? I blushed. But I never blush now. I cured myself, and you must cure yourself.

A POISONED FINGER An abscess is a collection of poisonous matter, and the aim of every surgeon is to get that poisonous material out of the body. The result of letting out the matter is like a miracle; the oain ceases, the temperature drops to normal, the wearied patient falls into a refreshing sleep, and the case takes a decided turn for the better. As an example, take the case of a poisoned finger. A wise surgeon insists as forcibly as he can that the only rational treatment is to let that drop of matter out, burn it, and so destroy the germs. But, alas! in too many cases the foolish patient says, “I can’t bear the knife.”