A Child is born ..

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Being Christmas time there is a great deal of activity happening around the place, with the buying of presents, preparing food and having parties; and in all the fuss and turmoil, one senses that the real meaning of Christmas is being overlooked - apart from the dreaded "canned" carols in all the major malls and shopping centers! Ocassionally one stumbles across a Nativity scene in a large store, and as always, the little children are still fascinated by the strange sight of a baby in a crib surrounded by cattle, sheep and men in funny clothes.

Being born is a miraculous event - what starts off as two cells fusing into one, ends up becoming a living, breathing human being, and all in the space of 9 months. But the passage from conception, to the time when the baby becomes independent and able to forage for itself, is probably the most "dangerous" period in our lives. For Jesus to be born in a "cattle shed" to a young teenager who had no ante-natal care, and who is having her first baby surrounded by men,and not a midwife in sight, would classify as an extremely high risk birth. And to highlight what faced infants born before the time of modern medicine, here's a quote on conditions in a well known country in the mid 18th century:

    "Infants under one year old accounted for a quarter of the total deaths in England and Wales. Half of all of the deaths were infants under five. Sanitation and hygiene were serious problems. Filth or contaminated foods often caused infection. Diarrhea was so common and dangerous that it could cause death in a baby in less than forty-eight hour." Palestine at the time of Christ was a fairly primitive place and under siege, (not much seems to have changed!) so it would be a fair guess to think that similar conditions would have existed in His time.

If Christ were to be born today in an undeveloped country such as Mali, there would still be a one in five chance that He would be dead before the age of 5! Paradoxically, if He were to be born in Egypt or Albania, He would have a one in five chance of being overweight by the time he was five!

Where we are born has a significant impact on our health and longevity, and for many infants on this planet, they have a fairly rugged start in life. Where a child is born is a major factor in predicting its future health, but the family - or lack of - into which that child is born and which nurtures it in those first 5 years, is equally vital. Critical biological imprinting goes on in those vulnerable first five years, and if parents neglect themselves or their child, the result could well be that the child will spend the rest of their life paying the price.

The gift of one child 2,000 years ago gave us all hope: lets make sure that for what remains of the rest of our lives, that we try our best to give every child the best opportunities in those critical first five years.
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Special Christmas "Gifts" from my patients.

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As it comes towards Christmas, I have been reflecting on the "gifts" that I have received over the years from patients whom I have cared for. These gifts are not the regulation bottle of plonk, but are those experiences that have helped forge me into the person I am now. Some of the gifts I would rather not have received, but they have been a part of the tapestry that is my life story.

There was dear old Mrs Little, a lady I had never met until I received a phone call from her. "My son Bill is wetting the bed still, any suggestion?" she asked. I asked a few pertinent questions such as how long had this been going on, and what sort of things had she tried already. Then I asked "How old is Billy", to which she replied, "65". It turned out that Bill was an alcoholic who lived in the caravan at the back of her ancient home in rural Victoria! When I visited him, it also turned out that Bill had advanced head and neck cancer that he had never bothered to get checked. Over the months of caring for Bill in his final illness, I got to spend a lot of time with Mrs Little who was full of ancient wisdom: "Catholics should be graded like eggs" was one that sticks with me, and this from a lady who attended almost daily Mass. She lived to be 105 with her faculties still intact.

Another delightful lady who always cheered me for other reasons was a lady in her 80's who was also an alcoholic. When I visited her at home, usually mid morning, she was already drunk and greeted me with the words "God, you're handsome", which always does some good to a middle aged man's ego!

Mr D'Arcy was a gentleman to his bootlaces, always gracious and always welcoming. He had the most severe airways disease and yet always walked me to my car after a visit and shook my hand in thanks for coming to his house.

Matt was a very intelligent, but troubled teenager, who made his parents life hell. But there was something about the kid that I liked. He was smart and insightful, but he was an unmitigated risk taker and "defier" of authority. We used to have long conversations on life and all the great opportunities that were opening before him and how he could do great things, if just he could accept that life does present us with boundaries which we all have to live within. Matt would smile, and I knew he was in some other place that I could never enter. He was seeing psychiatrists and taking various medications: I think he used to see me more for a chat than anything medical. He committed suicide and I was devastated not only for his family, but for a life that had so much, and yet chose oblivion over challenge. Thanks Matt for teaching me about how tough life is for some teenagers.

Bob Jefferies was a grumpy, hard individual who was rude to all and sundry, Doctors included. He was one of those "heart sink" patients whom you dreaded to see in the waiting room. For some reason he picked on me, and over the years I got to know Bob really well and also got an insight into why he was grumpy. He had been a rear gunner in the last great war and was shot down over Germany. He jumped from the burning plane at a height of 2000 feet, with his parachute on fire too! Fortunately it was winter and he fell into a snow covered pine plantation and skidded down the trees into deep snow fracturing both feet into the bargain. He tried to walk to safety, but all he got was frostbite to his burnt broken feet before he was captured and interred. After the war he married and had a son: when his son was a teenager, he was killed in an accident that left the parents devastated. Bob never talked about his son, his wife told me, but he did open up about his war years and when he left these consultations, he would shake my hand and smile and say "Thanks Doc".

To all the patients with whom I have shared such amazing moments, I would like to say "Thanks to you all", you have enriched my life.


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