Importance of Correct Diagnosis and Correct Treatment
The word "diagnosis" is derived from two Greek words, "dia," meaning through, and "gnosis," meaning knowing. It therefore means literally "through knowledge," "to know thoroughly," or, as we now say, "thorough knowledge." The old form of the word is still retained in the very common expression "to know it through and through."
Diagnosis may be a source of danger
The primary purpose of diagnosis is to locate a difficulty, to find an internal disorder that is causing unpleasant symptoms. It will readily be granted that this is only desirable when, after the internal disorder has been located, we are able to do something to correct it; that otherwise it is of no more importance than to learn by post-mortem examination what caused death. Indeed, to know what the trouble is without knowing how to deal with it, is a very grave source of danger, and has caused many a death through resort to wrong methods. In a large percentage of cases Nature will heal, if her processes are not interfered with, and in all cases she is the real physician; our only proper office is to supply the right materials, and to leave her to use them as she will.
True diagnosis, merely an interpretation of Nature's language
Correct diagnosis is important because it is the guide—the beginning—the primary step in the treatment of dis-ease. Wrong diagnosis is usually followed by wrong methods of treatment, while correct diagnosis simplifies, and points the practitioner, with certainty, to the interpretation of Nature's language (symptoms). With an understanding of these, the remedy, in most cases, will suggest itself.
The human body and the linotype machine compared
The linotype machine that set the matter you are now reading is composed of several thousand parts. The keyboard is operated by the compositor, in much the same manner as that of a typewriter, and the delicate mechanism produces the metal lines of type ready to be "made up" in "forms" for the press. Where several such machines are in use, an expert machinist is usually employed to keep them in order. He can take them apart, study the mechanism at leisure, and reassemble them, yet it not infrequently happens that almost insurmountable difficulties are encountered. What would be the difficulties, then, if the machine were enclosed in a case that could not be opened, with only the keyboard exposed? What mechanical engineer in all the world could then make it work if something went wrong? One who could tell from the faulty action just what the matter was, and correct it from without, would be looked upon as a wizard.
Belief in the magical effect of drugs
The human body is incomparably more complex and delicate than any machine, yet it is a widespread superstition that one skilled in the art of locating disorders (diagnosis) can, almost invariably, correct them by the magical effect of drug applications. This is a superstition with no more foundation in fact than the parallel one that a man of vicious character can be made virtuous by a magical process. He may turn from vice to virtue in a moment, but he can become spiritually strong and wholesome only by growth, and by conformity to the moral law. In like manner bodily health comes not by magic, but by right living, by conformity to the laws of health.
Involuntary functions are perfectly performed
It is literally true that "the only perfectly performed functions of the body are the involuntary or the automatic functions." Those that are even partly under the control of the will, such as breathing, are almost invariably ill done. The infinite wisdom is strikingly exemplified in the fact that the vital functions are quite independent of our volition except for "hindrances or ruinous urgence." We may, and we do hinder them constantly, and we subject them to "ruinous urgence" almost continuously. These two facts are responsible for nearly all the bodily ills from which we suffer.
Nature's marvelous methods beyond our comprehension
The marvelous metabolism by which energy is translated into life, by Nature's processes, is not only beyond our control, but beyond our comprehension. We should make it an invariable rule, therefore, never to interfere in any way, but to confine our efforts to the task of supplying Nature with material with which to do her wonderful work, and to an observance of the common laws of health and life.
The blood-corpuscles like little workmen
The blood-corpuscles are like millions or tens of millions of little workmen in the body, each with a particular work to do; each on duty and quickly responsive to call every moment. When we recognize the fact that the body is constantly being broken down and rebuilt; that every atom of broken-down material must be floated away in the blood, and new atoms built in to keep the structure from deterioration; that all the broken-down material is poisonous, and must be eliminated from the body without delay, we realize that the internal activities are almost bewildering. When we consider that all the blood in the body passes through the heart every two or three minutes, carrying food to every cell, and at the same time carrying away the poisonous products of physical and mental activities, disposing of them by various processes; when we remember that the supply to every cell is delicately adjusted to constantly varying requirements; that all this goes on so quietly and so smoothly that we are unconscious of it—when we remember all this, we begin to have some appreciation of the Psalmist's exclamation, "I am fearfully and wonderfully made."
How faithful these little workmen are! Not for an instant do they leave their tasks. Verily, they are the sentinels forever at the portals. In our work, in our pleasures, they are ever active; in our sleep, they sleep not. Not for an instant do they cease watch. Is there a wound—be it a great rent or a tiny pin-prick, they are there in force to repair it, to wall up the breach and to make it whole—swarming to the rent as the Lowlanders to a break in the dike. Has a foreign substance penetrated the structure?—instantly they set about to expel it; but if this be impossible, they seal it in a capsule of impervious integument that it may do no harm, or, the least possible injury.
A seeming consciousness in the automatic action of the blood
If these little workmen are not conscious as we know consciousness, at least their work shows purposeful action, and when we see an obvious purpose definitely carried out by every available agency, we may be sure there is a consciousness back of it, whether it be like ours or not.
But while these workmen are faithful—while they will stand to their tasks to the end, they are limited in their power, and will break ranks under long-continued hindrances.
The human body a power-plant
The human body is a power-plant, a combined engine and boiler, and there is a close analogy between this conscious, self-acting power-plant and the one that furnishes the power to generate electricity, or to turn the wheels of a factory.
Symptoms compared with electric light
When your electric lights grow dim, and the defect is not cured by renewing the lamps, then you are convinced that the trouble is elsewhere. If the lights in every part of the house are dim, you will know (if you are a skilful electrician—a good diagnostician) that the trouble is not in the electric nervous system of the house. It may be between your house and the electric station, but before taking the trouble to examine the line, ask those of your neighbors who are on a different line, whether their lights are dim. If they are, you may go to the electric station with reasonable certainty of finding the cause.
The stomach and the lungs of this leviathan
Suppose we have come to the station and are commissioned to locate the difficulty. We go into the engine room and find everything in good order. The engine is a fine piece of mechanism; it has no loose joints, no leaky valves, yet it seems to lack power; is overloaded. Inquiry shows there are no more lights than formerly, while the service was satisfactory. You go at once to the boiler room. It may also be in good order so far as appearances go, but you look at the steam gage and find the pressure is low. "Yes," says the fireman, "I simply can't keep the pressure up. I shovel in coal and keep the drafts on so that I have a roaring fire, but, in spite of all, my steam pressure runs down." Look into the furnace (the stomach) of this leviathan! If the grate-bars are clean; if there is no accumulation of ashes, cinders, or clinkers to interfere with the combustion (digestion) of the black provender fed to it, you may close the furnace door and open another. Look into the fire tubes (the lungs) of the laboring monster that has shown signs of weakness! If the fire tubes are clean, free from soot and dust, the trouble is not there.
"Scale," like an irritated mucous lining
"Scale," the cause of dim light
We have now gone almost the full course; there is but one place left to explore and that is closed. The trouble is inside the boiler. It is lined with scale deposited from the water evaporated in producing steam. This scale, which may be likened unto an irritated mucous lining of the stomach, or the intestines, forms a coating upon the lower inside of the boiler, and the upper side of the fire tubes, just as it is deposited on the bottom of a teakettle, and it shuts out the heat from the water. The heat being the source of energy, and the steam only the means of applying it, the power-plant is crippled. Seldom does it happen that so great a thickness of scale is to be found in a boiler as may be seen in almost every household teakettle, yet the effects (symptoms) are found in the dimmed lights miles away, and if the difficulty is not dealt with, it will rapidly increase until the service becomes intolerably inefficient.
Difficulty in dealing with the "scale"
Had we found the grate-bars choked with ashes, cinders, and clinkers, and the fire tubes (lungs) smothered with soot and dust, we should have instructed the fireman to keep them clean and free. This is not a difficult thing to do, requiring only careful daily attention, but the scale inside the boiler is not so easily dealt with. It is completely enclosed, and there is no possibility of getting at it except by extinguishing the fire and letting the boiler cool—by making the boiler "dead," or "killing" it, as firemen term it.
Treating the "dim light" dis-ease
Having diagnosed this case of the lighting system, starting with the symptoms of a dim light in a residence some miles away, and having located the difficulty inside of the boiler of the power-plant, we desire to treat it. The boiler can be "killed," and the scales removed by going into the boiler. It can then be revived by refilling it with water and rekindling the fire.
Then, too, let us assume that there are two boilers, and that we can keep the plant alive with one; a low ebb of life, to be sure, but not dead. We will then cool one boiler at a time, go into it, and remove the scale, thus restoring the plant to full efficiency.
This method can be used where the boiler may be cooled, but as this cannot be done with the human power-plant, for the sake of our analogy, let us suppose that the steam boiler, like the human body, must always be kept under pressure that it cannot be "killed" and revived. What, then, shall be done?
Removing the cause of the scaly deposit
It is evident that the first thing to do is to cease the use of water containing the solution of mineral, which causes the scaly deposit. This will prevent the condition from growing gradually worse, and may be accomplished by distilling the water before introducing it into the boiler, or, by using rain-water. As to the scale already in the boiler, it must be dissolved, and gradually eliminated, or remain there. There are many so-called "boiler compounds" for the purpose, and every well-informed man in charge of such a "plant" knows how important it is to avoid using a compound that may cause damage to the boiler itself. A "compound" that would attack the steel, as well as the scale, would be a desperate remedy indeed.
One degree of variation in temperature indicates dis-ease
The marvelous economy of Nature
In the human body something happens very similar to the deposit of scale in a steam boiler. But the human body is a furnace as well as an engine. It is so intricate and so delicate that if the temperature rises or falls one degree above or below normal, the condition is one of dis-ease. As food is its fuel, how can we expect the mechanism to remain in order if we utterly disregard the body's requirements, not only as to the character of the fuel supplied, but also as to the quantity, especially if we so choke it with fuel that Nature is unable to burn it up in the vital processes, and to dispose of the resulting ashes and cinders? Nature is resourceful—full of expedients and makeshifts! If she were not, the span of life would be much shorter than it is. As previously stated, she will seal up a foreign substance that cannot be expelled, and not only will she do this with solids that have penetrated the flesh, but she will actually build "catch basins" in the body, called cysts—bags, somewhat like a bladder, in which the excess or refuse that cannot be eliminated may be impounded, and the ruin of the body postponed for months or even for years.
True diagnosis locates a disorder; also the causes
The true office of diagnosis is not only to find the disorder, but to discover also the conditions that lead to it, or have a bearing upon it; hence that diagnosis is faulty which comes short of this, for the reason that even if the disorder be located and overcome, it will recur if its cause persists, just as the scale in the boiler will form again if the causes that produced it are not removed.
As the blood is the life, as it brings to every cell life (nourishment), and carries away death (poisonous by-products of vital activities in the form of dead matter to be eliminated from the body); as it does this by its marvelously rapid circulation through every cell, it is obvious that every part of the body will be in a state of health if the blood itself is pure, and its supply and circulation such that every cell is abundantly fed. The supreme law of health, therefore, may be expressed in two statements, one positive and one negative:
1 Feed the body correctly
2 Do not interfere with the circulation of the blood
Both the storing of fat and the disposing of waste are expensive processes
If the blood is not a perfect building material it is because we have not put into the digestive mill the right materials; and if it is not properly circulated, it is because the circulation is impeded by positive constrictions, or, as is more frequently the case, because the composition of the blood is not perfectly suited to the demands of the vital activities. As a result, much of the material must be rejected as unusable, thus involving a great deal of extra work in disposing of it. If the excessive material is wholesome, though not at present usable, it may be packed away for future use as fat, this being the easiest, and perhaps the only possible way of disposing of it in the rush. The builders are not only overworked, but literally overwhelmed with excessive and unsuitable materials—and why?—that we may indulge perverted appetites.
Corpulency considered unhealthy
Even the excessive material packed away in the wholesome form of fat may, merely by its bulk, become an impediment to the circulation. It not only reduces the efficiency of the bodily mechanism, but also is so potent a factor in shortening life that a corpulent person is likely to be rejected by an insurance company, even though his present state of health may be good.
Defective circulation reduces efficiency
A condition often found illustrates most forcibly the manner in which defective circulation reduces the efficiency of the human power-plant, even as the scaly deposit impairs the efficiency of the steam boiler. "That tired feeling" of which so many complain, is so called because the person thus afflicted has a sense of painful exhaustion upon slight exertion—is tired all the time. If our diagnosis shows a state of chronic exhaustion, and we endeavor to increase the body-efficiency by increasing the food, we shall make the same mistake as the fireman who shovels more coal under a scaly boiler.
Exhaustion, the accumulation of body-poisons
Painful exhaustion in a perfectly healthy body results from violent, or too long-continued exercise of a muscle, and if there are no intervals of rest, excruciating pain results. The cells are broken down more rapidly than the resulting waste can be carried away by the circulation, hence the body-poisons and pain. The pain is a symptom, and where the condition of which it is the index is temporary, rest soon restores the normal condition of ease.
Rest is imperative
There would be no sense of exhaustion if the building and the eliminating processes could be carried on with sufficient rapidity concurrently to make good all the expenditures of mental and bodily activities. Not only should we not need rest, but we should not even need sleep. The only occasion to stop, then, would be to take in more fuel (food), and if this could be taken while the body is in action, as fuel is fed to the steam boiler, there would be no necessity to stop. But apparently both the upbuilding and the elimination of waste normally lay behind the demands of even ordinary activity, so that a given muscle must have very frequent intervals of rest (every few seconds), and the organism, as a whole, must reduce activity to the minimum by sleep about one-third of the time.
Nature's devices to provide rest
As some of the muscles are used with practical continuity during the waking life, Nature resorts to some very cunning devices to provide the necessary rest. The tension upon the muscle of the eye is relaxed for an instant in the unconscious act of winking, but by reason of the persistence of visual sensation, this does not interfere with vision. Thus Nature has always used the principle involved in the moving picture. The heart must perform its work every instant, from the time before we are born until the end, but each muscle rests about one-third of every second—when it relaxes, and the chamber of the heart expands with the inrush of blood.
The body a pile of mysterious atomic masonry
Nature alone is the builder, and will do all that should be done if she only has the proper materials in proper proportions. We may well stand in awe and admiration of her mysterious atomic masonry, but let us lay no sacrilegious hand upon her work.