The Friend of Health, part 7: Final Words

In the late 1700s, Samuel Hahnemann wrote a 2-part novella, The Friend of Health, that revealed the sagacity of the man who would later create the homeopathic medical model. My last six blogs have highlighted specific topics from this book, and I've covered all the ones that have relevance today. But, before I move to my next blog series, I want to share a few final tidbits from the book.

Regarding visiting people with potentially contagious diseases:

Don't do it. Consider any fever to be contagious, even if it turns out not to be. Hahnemann wrote, "it is likewise quite praiseworthy to make our children believe that the brook that flows by is somewhat deeper and more fearful than it actually is."

Who does the seriously ill patient need at his side? Only necessary persons—at the most a father, a mother or a spouse, but best of all a nurse and/or a doctor. If a pastor, priest, rabbi or other religious person is needed, he must follow the doctor's instructions on how close to stand to the patient.

In Hahnemann's day, epidemics came along fairly frequently and killed many, so his precautions were extreme. But some of them still apply, and perhaps "home health" needs to be re-envisioned. Hospitals tend to harbor the worst germs!

Regarding "Old Women's Philosophy":

Hahnemann agreed with midwives that brandy, in cases of "newly confined women," often did much good if there were "serious symptoms arising from weakness or excessive irritability of the nervous system, accompanied by impurities of the stomach and bowels."

And—

The claim that swollen cervical glands disappeared when "pressing thrice upon the swollen glands with the thumb, in silence, each time that the moon is on the wane," had some validity in Hahnemann's opinion. He explains, "the glandular swellings…not unfrequently disappear by rubbing and moderate pressure. Thereby is produced an increased circulation of the blood and a greater activity of the lymphatic vessels." But he had no clue what the thrice pressure, the silence, and the moon had to do with it since he was not "endowed with the super-subtle sixth or perhaps seventh sense."

Maybe we need to embrace the brandy idea again? A little tipple while going through the hurdles of labor makes good sense!

Regarding purgatives:

Don't take them if you're healthy. "It is only in the cases of excessive over-loading of the stomach in delicate persons, and such as are afflicted with chronic diseases, that the circumstance occurs of nature being too weak to expel the ordure at the right time, and we require to assist her by means of a purgative medicine."

If you're healthy, maybe avoid those trendy detoxing programs?

Regarding boot-camp style regimens:

Don’t go overboard. Hahnemann wrote, "Father Hippocrates, whose knowledge of mankind was of the most profound, remarks in one part of his writings that changes from one extreme to another cannot be undertaken without danger and caution, and I cannot too strenuously insist upon the truth of this observation…Let us imitate nature – let us never make January to follow close upon June, nor July upon January, if we do not wish our tender plants to be blasted and withered by both of these extremes." The same holds true for human creatures. Hahnemann concluded, "it is incredible what man can endure if he be gradually habituated to it," and "if it be supposed that there are peculiar varieties of the human species, that would be to make a great mistake; they have come from their mother's womb as delicate and soft as any of ourselves."

Perhaps Hahnemann was inspired to write this chapter because of the trend in his day of trying to harden "young persons destined for various pursuits and for fighting their way in the great world." These regimens involved tramping barefoot over frosty ground and bathing in cold rivers. Many of the boys got frost-bitten feet and hands or, worse, died of consumption or catarrhal fevers.

Regarding an outward show of wealth:

Hahnemann shares a conversation between Socrates and a man, Physon, who has recently inherited great wealth and has bought many things for himself. Socrates chides, "Knowest thou the man that has just passed us clad in a coarse woolen garment? In his venerable aged form beams universal philanthropy. That is Eumenes, the physician. The many thousands that he yearly makes by the practice of his art, he does not spend on fine country houses and on the other vain trifles of the luxurious. His happiness consists in doing good! …Go, Physon, and engage in some better pursuits, and then count on my esteem."

On choosing a family physician:

"Search for a plain man of sound common sense, who takes great pains to ascertain the truth of all he hears and says…who knows how to give clear and condensed information…and never obtrudes his opinion unasked or at an improper time… let the man you choose be one who does not show temper nor get angry, except when he beholds injustice…who listens attentively to the complaints of those who seek his aid, and does not pronounce an opinion without mature reflection, who prescribes but few generally single, medicines in their natural state, who keeps out of the way until he is sought for, who is not silent respecting the merits of his colleagues, but does not praise himself." One last bit of advice: "See how he behaves to the poor, and if he occupies himself at home unseen with some useful work!"

How different our current medical system would be if everyone took this advice! Of course, doctors who "take great pains to ascertain the truth," would have to be okay with questioning what they learn in medical schools—as Hahnemann was.

Next time, I hope to begin a series about specific homeopathic remedies, bringing them to life for my readers. The series will help me complete my final project for school, so wish me luck!