Aha, Gingernut is a deconstructionist, lekker! A disciple of Derrida, no less! A Medical Nemesis indeed! That explains a lot (like maintaining the futility of schooling, but we can come back to that later).
The late great Richard Asher (who first described Munchausen syndrome) is supposed to have arranged outpatient sessions where the patients never actually saw a doctor (or a nurse).
The old people drank hospital tea and had a good gossip about life, the neighbours & everything and then went home. Allegedly it was a great success.
Not really possible in today's Metropolis world of strict appointments and censorious receptionists, but that's progress for you...
A lot of old people (particularly in these days of the nuclear family) are very lonely and a visit to the doctor lends importance to the day. [These days of course, the Practice Nurse would soon send them packing so as NOT TO WASTE THE DOCTOR'S TIME and get the social workers to put their dog down and bundle them off to Supervised Housing]
Asher also remarks that the schoolboy says, "I scored two goals today!", while the old person says, "I had two funny turns today" - he was a very wise man.
AA Milne(Christopher Robin loathed the stories and refused to visit his dying father) wrote a sticky but apposite poem called "The Dormouse and the Doctor"
There once was a Dormouse who lived in a bed
Of delphiniums (blue) and geraniums (red),
And all the day long he'd a wonderful view
Of geraniums (red) and delphiniums (blue).
A Doctor came hurrying round, and he said:
"Tut-tut, I am sorry to find you in bed.
Just say 'Ninety-nine' while I look at your chest....
Don't you find that chrysanthemums answer the best?"
The Dormouse looked round at the view and replied
(When he'd said "Ninety-nine") that he'd tried and he'd tried,
And much the most answering things that he knew
Were geraniums (red) and delphiniums (blue).
The Doctor stood frowning and shaking his head,
And he took up his shiny silk hat as he said:
"What the patient requires is a change," and he went
To see some chrysanthemum people in Kent.
The Dormouse lay there, and he gazed at the view
Of geraniums (red) and delphiniums (blue),
And he knew there was nothing he wanted instead
Of delphiniums (blue) and geraniums (red).
The Doctor came back and, to show what he meant,
He had brought some chrysanthemum cuttings from Kent.
"Now these," he remarked, "give a much better view
Than geraniums (red) and delphiniums (blue)."
They took out their spades and they dug up the bed
Of delphiniums (blue) and geraniums (red),
And they planted chrysanthemums (yellow and white).
"And now," said the Doctor, "we'll soon have you right."
The Dormouse looked out, and he said with a sigh:
"I suppose all these people know better than I.
It was silly, perhaps, but I did like the view
Of geraniums (red) and delphiniums (blue)."
The Doctor came round and examined his chest,
And ordered him Nourishment, Tonics, and Rest.
"How very effective," he said, as he shook
The thermometer, "all these chrysanthemums look!"
The Dormouse turned over to shut out the sight
Of the endless chrysanthemums (yellow and white).
"How lovely," he thought, "to be back in a bed
Of delphiniums (blue) and geraniums (red.)"
The Doctor said, "Tut! It's another attack!"
And ordered him Milk and Massage-of-the-back,
And Freedom-from-worry and Drives-in-a-car,
And murmured, "How sweet your chrysanthemums are!"
The Dormouse lay there with his paws to his eyes,
And imagined himself such a pleasant surprise:
"I'll pretend the chrysanthemums turn to a bed
Of delphiniums (blue) and geraniums (red)!"
The Doctor next morning was rubbing his hands,
And saying, "There's nobody quite understands
These cases as I do! The cure has begun!
How fresh the chrysanthemums look in the sun!"
The Dormouse lay happy, his eyes were so tight
He could see no chrysanthemums, yellow or white.
And all that he felt at the back of his head
Were delphiniums (blue) and geraniums (red).
And that is the reason (Aunt Emily said)
If a Dormouse gets in a chrysanthemum bed,
You will find (so Aunt Emily says) that he lies
Fast asleep on his front with his paws to his eyes.
These days it would be a PC Social Worker rather than a doctor but the moral of the tale is even more appropriate.
BTW, Illich was nothing if not consistent. During his later years, he suffered from a cancerous growth on his face that, in accordance with his critique of professionalized medicine, he attempted, unsuccessfully, to treat with traditional methods. He regularly smoked opium to deal with the pain caused by this tumor. At an early stage, he consulted a doctor about having the tumor removed, but there was too great a chance of losing his ability to speak, he was told, so he lived with the tumor as best he could.
His confused Hubbardian rhetoric (deconstructionists speak a special metalanguage that is deliberately obscure) is no longer fashionable, but his legacy lives on in a functionally illiterate generation.
"The absence of the transcendental signified extends the domain and the play of signification infinitely."
Good stuff!
