Health, the stolen word
February 18, 2009 - By Al Gallo
Almost every time the word 'health' is mentioned by doctors, politicians, journalists and pharmaceutical company representatives, it really means disease, medical attention, or the mere promotion and dispensation of drugs.
This shouldn't be anything to worry about if the people who
belong to these categories had a reasonable knowledge of what health is
all about. They don't. When Government authorities and politicians talk
about health they use this word as a misnomer, placed in a context
where disease, medical intervention or body repairs of some sort would
fit more adequately. The reason for this is that the idea of health is
more appealing than that of a condition associated with pain or
anything else that produces unwanted feelings in our bodies.
Health is what we like to enjoy and see promoted for the benefit of our
family, friends and the rest of the community. The problem is that
unfortunately we can't buy it from a doctor or a drug vendor; all we
can get from them is a fix, perhaps the feeling that we can keep on
going. That doesn’t mean we have acquired or recovered our health;
we’ve just been patched up. If we are healthy we don't need any of
them.
Back in the early eighties I drove from Sydney to Melbourne to spend my
holidays and enjoy relaxation after a full year of intense physical
work. As I walked along Melbourne's streets I began to feel a series of
numbness and tingling sensations in my arms and hands. While driving
back to Sydney, holding the steering wheel became a painful experience.
I visited a doctor as soon as I arrived and was diagnosed with
arthritis in the neck, for which he prescribed an anti-inflammatory
drug.
As the days went by the condition worsened to the point that I couldn’t
sleep. I went to the doctor again and he prescribed some little pills
he assured me would allow me to rest comfortably. My condition did not
greatly improve and there was a period when I kept on going back to the
doctor to collect prescriptions, with the hope that next visit would be
the last. One day I asked the professional how long the treatment was
likely to last. His response was very unambiguous: -“Permanently” he
said. I felt as if a bucket of cold water had been thrown at my head.
Making a great effort to be polite I thanked him, got out of the
surgery and walked towards the public library nearby. Somehow, the old
conventional acceptance of what doctors, priests or journalists of the
big media had to say didn’t fit comfortably with my almost instinctive
skepticism.
The quiet environment at the suburban library of St Mary’s, NSW, became
my new world of discovery. A row named ‘Health’ was there like a magnet
waiting for me. The first book on the top shelf was ‘The Health
Revolution’, a striking title suggesting that something like a war and
fighting had in a certain way something to do with what I had assumed
was a state to be peacefully enjoyed by everyone without question. This
book was my introduction into a world where health means more than a
personal lifestyle dictated by simply filling our stomachs with
whatever edible stuff we've got on hand and going to the
quack when we feel sick.
That happened 24 years ago and it was the last time I was given a medical prescription. Adopting the habit of eating foods that are friendly to body functions swiftly eliminated my illness. In that case, I estimate that sensitivity to my regular consumption of meals containing monosodium glutamate triggered those very unpleasant reactions.
