Now the one thing I have always marvelled at is medicine. The science of medicine is the most remarkable of humanity’s achievements.
The day man discovered that he could actually do something about ailments and other conditions affecting the body will go down in history as a discovery without rival.
Once upon a time, human beings would die from simple illnesses which, as time went on, were found to be actually treatable. Back in the days when remedies were few and far between, the determinant of how long our ancestors lived was considered the business of the big man in the sky. If you lived long, it was because of his fondness for you.
If your life was brutal and short, again it was because you were not in his good books. That is how, for thousands of years, human society functioned. Gradually, those not prepared to go down without a fight started experimenting with herbs and all kinds of stuff to find a cure for the ailments affecting them and their families. Hence the science of medicine was born.
When man realised he could actually cure some disease by ingesting some herb mixture, he became more confident. He decided if there was a troublesome internal organ why not open up the body, fix it and sew up the body for life to go on.
Man’s interest in medicine derives from his quest for a better life free from pain and discomfort. In fact, our fixation with medicine will remain for as long as man cracks the puzzle of how long he can live forever.
It must be admitted that things were rough back then. For instance, surgery was conducted without the benefit of anaesthesia. But such was the longing for life that many poor souls put themselves through the pain in order to have another day with their girlfriends at the local drinking hole.
With time and through the dedication of many selfless people, medicine improved a great deal. If one had a headache all they had to do was pop a pill. In fact, the invention of the pill brought about incredible changes in the way we live.
For instance, it empowered women.
If a woman did not wish to have a child just yet, she could pop a pill and her life would go on unimpeded by some screaming little devil.
To cut a long story short, medicine changed our life for the better. That is why in the trust index, doctors feature right at the top because they are the difference between pain and comfort.
They are now in close competition with the big man who lives in the sky when it comes to whether we live or die. Tell me of a family that does not wish to have a doctor among its ranks. Show me a family that has a doctor and is not proud. Who would not be proud that their son can open somebody’s chest cavity, remove the heart, fix it and put it back in order for the patient to be back home soon.
I wanted to be a doctor. I did well at school. But the grades were not good enough for medical school. I was not happy. But with time I understood that only the very bright could be trusted with opening up our bodies and reconstructing us again. For this reason I admire doctors.
I literally worship doctors.
In fact, I want to get married to a doctor. Imagine when you don’t want to go to work and you instruct you wife to concoct a mystery disease that will have your enemies celebrating your imminent demise only to be dismayed when they see you rocking up two days later, very fit and raring to go.
Because I admire them so much, I follow the exploits of doctors. Everything that involves doctors and medicine piques my interest. That is why I got the shock of my life when I heard that Michael Jackson’s doctor is set to be charged for killing him. I could not believe it.
As far as I am concerned no doctor has ever killed anyone. Doctors are practitioners of the science of medicine and they are there to cure us.
It must be said that in their attempts at tackling our ailments they sometimes lose out to the big man who lives in the sky. Remember, I said doctors are now in competition with him. Many a times they outwit him and the patient makes a full recovery. But he also has his days when he outfoxes the doctor and the patient dies.
In simple, terms that is what happened to Michael Jackson. I saw the doctor on television. He is nice looking man who would not hurt a fly. The suggestion by the singer’s family that he is responsible for his death is plain ridiculous.
I am disappointed in the American police. Sometimes I get the sense they dream of being celebrities. They have decided to charge an innocent man simply because the family of his patient cannot come to terms with the death of their cash cow.
I can bet you, members of that creepy family are already thinking of ways to cash in on the trial. The doctor was doing what many doctors do every single day. He was looking after the needs of his patient. Unfortunately the patient, who also happened to be weird and crazy, ended up dying.
Michael Jackson is not the first patient to die in the care of a doctor. Many of my relatives went to hospital and came out cured. By the same token some beloved relatives were admitted and died in hospital. They were tended by bright sparks who spent many years in school learning how to open chests and seal them again.
I grieved when my relatives failed to make it. Instead of blaming the doctors, I went ahead and buried my beloved.
For millions of people around the world that is how we interact with doctors and medicine.
Therefore, I am not amused when the name of this mighty profession is dragged in the mud by people who never stayed long in school.
When you look at the Jackson clan, you can tell they all had a short stint in the classroom.
They must not mistake medicine for dancing. If the court does not release that doctor then I am going to sue all the doctors who attended to my relatives who died in hospital over the years. One wrong move by the judge to appease the Jackson clan, then my love affair with doctors is gone. Every single doctor who ever treated a dead relative of mine will have to appear in court.
I am watching!