FALKS ON HEALTH

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume 77, Issue 23, 27 January 1934, Page 3

FALKS ON HEALTH

(By A FAMILY DOCTOR). THE MENTALLY AFFLICTED. When a patient is discharged from a hospital for mental diseases the prevention of a relapse depends largely on the conduct of the relatives and friends. It is best to avoid all mention of the patient’s affliction; his life in the asylum should not be discussed; and, of course, all joking or gossip avoided. The sufferer must have plenty of nourishing food, so that the brain can have a plentiful supply of rich blood; and he must have plenty of sleep, Nature’s sweet restorer. Constipation should be guarded against, chiefly by diet, and drinking water and daily walking exercise; not by drugs. Sleeplessness is a bad sign, and if it occurs a medical man should be com suited at once. All worry and annoyance should be spared the patient; unnecessary care should never be placed on his shoulders. He needs kindness, patience and forbearance. His surroundings should be bright and cheerful. If his bedroom window overlooks a burying ground he should change his residence. At the first sign of eccentric conduct a medical man should be seen. The sooner remedial measures are taken the sooner will the patient be well. Although he may not be able to return to business, he should be encouraged to take up hobbies; gardening, wood-carving, photography—anything that will keep his brain pleasantly occupied; he must not be allowed to brood in silence. Alcoholic liquors should be forbidden; alcohol inflames the brain. There is no reason why a man should recover from an attack of mental disease just as he does from pneumonia; but he must learn his lesson. If the life he led brought on a mental breakdown he must not return to his old ways. Late nights, insufficient food, rush and hurry, failing strength artificially buoyed up by frequent draughts of spirits, working too late, and taking no holidays— all these things lead to overburdening of the brain and nervous system. Change of Occupation. A change of occupation may be necessary. An outdoor life may be the means of saving a man from misery; no man should be asked to spend all his days in an office with insufficient light and ventilation. If after two or three breakdowns it is established beyond all doubts that the man has an unstable nervous system, he should be dissuaded from marrying; unfortunately, he is just the sort of man to undertake a rash step without heed to the future. In looking through the records of the patients admitted to hospitals for mental diseases, it is a striking fact to find the word “heredity” occurring over and over again. In the eyes of the law it is not a erime to bring into the world a string of children tainted with hereditary weakness; but in the eves ot all decent people it ought to be "regarded as a grave offence. Public opinion is rotten on the subject. This is a Land of Liberty, and the lunatic claims the right to exercise his liberty in propagating children destined to fill our asylums. Nature the Healer. y hke to remind you occasionally of the curative power of Nature. I was taught in my earliest youth that my duty as a doctor was to place the patient in as favourable a position as possible to allow Nature to perform the cure. Nature does the work and I take the foe. I get the credit, and I always take it with a smile on my face because I get a good deal of unjust blame, and I reckon that the blame 'and the praise cancel each other. But to return to this curative power of Nature. No one knows about it except you and me, dear reader. The most extravagant claims are made for methods of treatment which have no curative value at all; they depend, one Nature ° U the curat * ve P owc r of Mother’s Kisses. Take as an instance a cut finger It IS very wonderful to watch how each tiny particle of flesh and skin grows until the wound is soundly healed. Nature is very clever. But what happens in this funny old world ot ours? Old Mrs. Bloggins makes an ointment of lard, spiders' aDd hartsho ™. and swears that the finger would never have got well without it. The little Japanese maiden before the shrine of the goddess of healing and calls the attention c. the goddess by tinkling a bellshe knows that her finger would never 7■ G’T “ nless the beU had been tiuMed. Dear old Farmer Chawbacon puts on a poultice of cow’s-dung, says his grandmother taught him that, and „. . . nover been known to fail. The Christian scientist sits up all night reading Mrs. Eddy, and, sure enough there is no getting away from it, the finger does heal ; Mrs. Eddy does look after her disciples. The tiny tot firmly believes that mother’s kisses make the place better. That is the most sensible view of all; the tiny tot has more sense than a whole university of prohenVTi, ° f eoursc ' mother’s kisses heal. I hope my own mother can see me writing this. The Doctor’s Artifice. A little Boman Catholic girl in sweet and simple piety, will trot off to Chapel to burn a candle before the image of her own saint, and implore her to heal the finger quickly. The bouth Sea Islander knocks a couple of his wives on the head and sacrifices them to his Mumbo-Jumbo in the hope of enlisting Doctor MumboJumbo s kind interest in the healing ot the wound. And he is well satisfied with the bargain when the skin is healed over on the fourth or fifth day And this is the Art of Medicine as earned on in the world to-day. What d ° \ dWise One > the All-know-ing-? Well, I put in a couple of stitches to draw the raw surfaces together; I wash the wound in a dilute antiseptic and I cover it with a dresslnS that will protect the wound from dust, dirt, and germs. That is what I did. to the finger of one of my patients a little while ago. I did not put cow’sdung on it; I did not tell him to read Mrs. Eddy; I certainly did not offer to