Relaxing From the Symptoms
Daily Observer
S.Q.
Lapius always maintained a discreet silence when I sprinkled the food grains
into the tropical fish tank on the theory that since he didn’t enjoy being
disturbed while eating, the fish harbored the same prejudice. The fish were a new addition to the
ménage. A substitute for color
television.
When
Lapius had successfully parried my arguments in favor of color TV, I was
reduced to the contention that it would add some color to the room. “If it is only color that you want I have a
better solution, and much quieter too.”
Lapius said, and the following day an aquarium resplendent with
iridescent fish, appeared.
“Of
course you will have to take care of them and clean the tank since it is you
who wanted them,” Lapius informed me. It
was useless to remind him that I didn’t want the fish in the first place.
The
fish hypnotized him and he would stand for hours watching them undulate in the
water. As soon as I had finished feeding
them he took his position in front of the tank.
“See if you can get me a news program,” I suggested.
“After
a hard day in the office this is just the type of silent relaxation that I
need.” Lapius murmured.
“What is so hard about a day in the
office?” I asked.
He
spoke with his back towards me, his eyes glued to the aquarium.
“Oh,
it’s something I run into every winter, Harry.
The patients grill me. They want
to know the cause of their troubles. Why
does my arm hurt, what is the cause of bursitis, do you think the headaches
could be nerves, which food caused me to belch?”
“But,
of course, you patiently explain these matters, don’t you?”
“Bah,
Harry. Explanations in medicine are
impossible, because each answer brings up new questions. You know that.”
Lapius
tapped on the glass and watched the fish prance. “At least,” he said, “in the old days when
they were testing atomic bombs, I never got questions like that.”
“What
have atomic bombs to do with it?”
“Everything,
Harry. Then, when patients came to the
office with a complaint, they would say, ‘I guess it’s due to atomic radiation,
eh, doctor?’ I would nod wisely without
saying anything. Patients like to have a
cause for their suffering. Not a deep
scientific cause, but something they can relate to their day-to-day
affairs. You have those patients, don’t
you Harry?”
I
nodded wisely, but Lapius had his back towards me.
“I
thought you did Harry,” Lapius continued.
“Don’t you have those nervous women who can’t take any medications?”
“You
mean when every medication you give causes a symptom?”
“Precisely,
Harry. These people are neurotic, with a
storehouse full of symptoms; nausea, diarrhea, tingling of the toes, headache,
blurred vision. Every time you prescribe
something they pull one of these symptoms from their repertoire and the next
time you see them they tell you the medicine made their eyes burn or their
hands go numb.”
“What
happens when they are not on medication?”
“Oh
then it’s different. Their hands burn
and their eyes go numb.” Lapius chuckled
suddenly. “I recently was called to
attend a man in shock from a sudden heart attack. He was cyanotic, his pulse was racing at 150
beats per minute. He was gasping for
breath. He was close to death. His wife came over to me and said ‘I told him
not to eat that fish.’”
I
laughed. “Sure Simon. I recognize that breed. We all have those patients. But why are you so suddenly afflicted with
them?”
“Not
suddenly, Harry. But it always gets
worse after the summer.”
“What’s
so special about summer?”
“Oh,
during the summer they have air-conditioning.
Whatever they come to the office with, they blame on the
air-conditioning. The lame shoulder –
‘Doc, don’t you think it was because I was laying near the
air-conditioner?’ Or the diarrhea, ‘I
knew I shouldn’t have kept the air-conditioner in the bedroom.’ The air-conditioner offers an immediate cause
for all summer complaints. But in the
winter they can’t figure out why they get sick, and keep asking me all these
confounded questions. After all, Harry,
we really don’t know the reason for a lot of things, do we? We don’t know what causes migraine, nor can
we really explain epilepsy, etc. etc.”
Lapius
was still staring at the fish.
“Honestly, Simon,” I said, “wouldn’t we be better off with a color
TV? At least once in a while it would
say something. Occasionally there is
even a football game.”
“Absolutely
not, Harry,” Lapius said emphatically.
“Color TV makes my eyes water, and usually gives me a headache.”