We are bombarded daily with exhortations from government mouthpieces, via the medical establishment, to “eat 5 portions of fruit and veg per day”, to “exercise regularly”, to keep the weight from piling on, to cut down on junk foods. And of course to not take up smoking or abuse alcohol, and so on and so forth.
HOWEVER, when someone who has been following those recommendations for several decades shows up in this same medical establishment, we are treated like weirdos with hidden psychological problems. Tell them that as part of your regular training programme you push your heart-rate above 130 bpm (totally normal for anyone accustomed to regular aerobic exercise), and they don’t even believe you. What planet are they living on? (Hint: the answer is in paragraph 5 below.)
In which year do they expect the majority of patients to be aware of and practising these recommendations? 2020? 2050? Never? For now, they seem to resent your appearance in the hospital system, because the system is geared to people who are both chronically physically unfit and very ignorant.
This has happened to me and to two other friends who have decided they cannot afford – or don’t want – the astronomical cost of private clinical care in Switzerland. (All my other friends seem to be living in blissful ignorance, either because they have incredible DNA and no major health issues, or are rich enough to afford the private hospital option, or both together).
Most medical doctors are physically unfit. Even in Switzerland, where obesity is at nothing like the levels you find in many other countries around the world, a fair proportion of them are overweight. They have chosen a path that more or less obliges them to sacrifice their own health in favour of their medical careers. We all know that part of being a medical intern is being willing and able to support regular 48-hour periods without sleep. I get that.
Of course, the kind of qualified doctor such a system produces is a person driven by his/her ambition (or need to succeed, or perfectionism) – which is not at all the kind of person who has enough humility and compassion to care for the human being that contains the defective organ. Our system produces ambitious robots with a lot of knowledge in one narrow field. In so far as they think about it at all, the questions of respect and compassion for the patient are outsourced to the nursing staff or the patient’s family.
Such “experts” are in a very poor position to understand those of us who have looked after our physical bodies and our lively, enquiring minds.