Another number.

The moon still hung pale over the Lake. It sneered a little then seemed to glow stronger as the snow came down in sheets. The car was slow to start: it gasped and coughed until the engine finally spluttered into life. The driver was tired and very late. He´d never wanted to leave the house but he felt obliged, obliged to be another number in a queue doomed to finish back here in the end.

New snow upon old ice! It cloaked and choked the country road, blurring the ditches and leveling the dips. The bends straightened and where they´d found old Pat dead in his overturned wreck the year before, he braked too hard and lost control.  Clutching desperately, the engine dampened and the tyres took off, they whizzed for a second then floated across the whiteness.  Time slowed; he let go.  And silently the car slid sideways down the road in the stillness of a winter morning.

He didn´t panic, moon – hedge – T-junction – hedge, he simply closed his eyes until the music then thoughts came in steady succession. “Who will buy my sweet red roses? Two blooms for a penny, a wonderful morning. You love Oliver but what was that actor´s name, the one who played Fagin? He reminds you of your Dad, dancing, singing and always smiling. How you miss those long walks on the farm, wellies disappearing in his huge footprints. Will your son think of you in the same way when you´re gone…”

His head was a hive of arcane activity, he whispered to himself as the car spun on. “Shit, you forgot the telephone bill; herself won´t be happy. Nor will she be happy when she hears about this tumour under your tongue. It doesn´t hurt but you should have told her, she´s already suspicious of these early starts and sure anyway, you´ll have to come clean in the end. Or with any luck, this will be the end.” He stopped.

The car had too, the motor cut, it now pointed back in the direction of home.  He gathered himself, removed the wool cap and mopped the sweat from his brow. Relentlessly, the snow fell still in the immense silence of space. And after a moment´s consideration, he started up again, turned the car around and continued into town.

The waiting room was busy with numbers. Knowing looks and long names isolated the professionals from the non-infectious, gloves and masks from their ulcers and lumps.  There was no explanation when he opened wide his mouth, nor when the surgeon pulled his tongue first this way, then that. Few courtesies as the painless ulcer was measured and catalogued and little poetry as the expert felt excitedly for that hard swelling beneath his chin.

Old ice and new snow, he mused, “you´ll tell her this evening so”.

Dr D. Mac Auley.

Published Meath Chronicle 27/03/2013.

Five Years of HSE Neglect

Published Meath Chronicle 24th June 2015. 

In 2010, the Fianna Fail/GP government removed the treatment of gum disease from Medical Card holders. Gum disease can cause bad breath, swollen, bleeding gums, loosening teeth, pain and ultimately extractions. Despite a 2014 survey on oral health showing it now affects 80% of adults, the current government is more than happy to leave nearly one-third of the Irish population with an untreated disease. 

And don´t think they don´t know! 
The government paid for the above study. Leo Varadkar while Minister of Health wrote, “Oral disease impacts on the majority of the population...the prevalence of dental decay and gum disease remains high. These conditions are preventable…” However, he´s not willing to do anything about it, his mates in the HSE are also happy to neglect Irish health. Although their website admits one of the best methods of prevention is a regular “scale and polish that involves having the plaque and tartar scraped away from your teeth with a special instrument, before your teeth are polished to remove any marks or stains”, the HSE fails to point out this treatment is not available to the vast majority of GMS patients. 

It´s not just about teeth! 
Inflammation in your gums affects other parts of your body; its presence increases your risk of heart disease and it´s also linked to strokes. Researchers have found that men with gum disease were 49% more likely to develop kidney cancer, 54% more likely to develop pancreatic cancer, and 30% more likely to develop blood cancers. Failure to treat oral inflammation is having wider health impacts on people abandoned by the state. 

So, why aren´t people up in arms? 
Unfortunately, gum disease has few notable symptoms until it is too far gone – loose, painful teeth that need extraction. There is also a lethargy within the dental profession to deal adequately with a disease that is so prevalent; the government isn´t exactly leading by example. In addition, successful treatment of gum disease requires a commitment from both parties – dentist and patient. Although I´ve threatened it often enough, a dentist can´t be stood looking over you every night when it comes to floss those lower molars. 

Early gum disease

I´m a Medical Card holder and think I have gum disease. What next? 
Firstly, get a diagnosis. The next time you go to the dentist, ask him/her if you have gum disease – request it in writing as is your right. Once you have the confirmation inform the HSE – best to also do this in writing. Now you are in a stronger position, the government is aware you have a disease that they are refusing to treat. If your condition worsens, which is very likely, then they have a substantial liability should you wish to seek compensation in the future.
In a recent compensation case, a 51-year old man from the North of England successfully sued his dentist when he failed to diagnose and treat his gum disease – he received £20,000 in settlement. 

Maybe the current government will understand measuring people's health and well-being in terms of monetary value can be a double-edged sword.

Dr Don Mac Auley.

Salvage a smile.

Published Meath Chronicle 28th January 2015.

Some of the worst things in life had happened to him between those sweaty walls. But like the others he kept returning. Every time he entered their veiled faces acknowledged him, at once promising everything yet always disappointing, each one reflected the others dull failures until today was yesterday and yesterday could have been tomorrow.

This morning, the bar was different; a new drinker with a bag at his feet, propped up the woodwork surrounded by the usual posse.  There were two ways you could ingratiate yourself with the early boozers - court them with tales of drunkenness or buy your way in. Given the early hour he decided this guy was a high-roller and that meant free drink. He ordered a scotch and started on the periphery to worm his way in.

Far off, the man appeared well dressed but now up close the blue suit had seen better days. The sleeves were threadbare and the shiny patches on the trousers reminded him of our brittle Irish sea. Mulling the thought along with his third whiskey, he returned to the action. “So, what do you do mate?” the local interrogated the stranger.

The pained expression spoke volumes. But it was already too late, he´d opened a can the morning crew knew only too well - the well-paid job, the fancy car, the private schools, then the crisis and after, redundancy, banks, bankruptcy and divorce. By the time the man had finished his dirge, the other drinkers had drifted off and now they were only two. Guilt at the question and no money, the local stayed put. “What´ll ye have mucker”, the new boy chirped up having now unburdened himself.

He rummaged and pulled out a last crumpled note. Unable to hide his disappointment the local lashed down his juice while the suit smiled and slurred, “In reality, all I have left of any value are these” pointing to his teeth and smiling broadly. So perfect and white were they Michelangelo could have carved them from Italian marble. “Jaysus mate, with teeth like that you should smile more often!” They both laughed until the drink was gone.

“If ye want more drink follow me mucker”, the visitor picked up his bag and they left. It was bright and clear outside. “Where are we headed?” the local staggered in the wake of a man on a mission. He ignored the questions until they were deep in the estate. “We´re on a salvage job”, said the suit, finally stopping outside a smart, detached house. Before the next question he´d jimmied the door and walked in. “But isn´t this illegal?” he stuttered as the stranger closed the door and then proceeded to take a crowbar and shiny hammer from his satchel.

With surgical precision he sliced and tore up the entrance wall exposing the wiring then neatly extracted it from the connections. Together they pulled it out and bunched it up. From room to room, they team-worked until the bag was full of balled-up copper wire. When they´d finished in the attic the local finally broke his silence, “This scrap will buy us a load of drink mate but don´t you feel bad for the owner?”

“No, mucker”, replied the suit, “This is my house”, and he gave his new friend that perfect white smile.    

Dr Don Mac Auley.

Toothache.

Published Meath Chronicle 21st October 2014.

He switched on the bedside lamp, the clock beamed 5.22am. It was now seven minutes since the man had become acquainted with his pain, yet he still didn´t know it. His thoughts flustered over damp floorboards, the warm air forcing him outside. A streetlamp puddled rainy light upon the stairs, the bannister led down, down until he landed in the kitchen. With the first mouthful of whisky the discomfort eased and suddenly he became aware of its absence.

As the storm abated he now felt alive and tingling like an electric fence. In the toaster´s reflection he drew back his lips to see canines project from a cloud of tartar, rattling each molar without joy, the gum looked red but that could be the light and anyway his tongue had already failed to find any cavities. He finished the glass and took off again.

At the door, the queasiness returned. Square miles of waves began to roll and pitch their heaped suffering upon his lower jaw; the pain swept him back to the table. Gently cradling his head, he popped pill after bitter pill, drowning each one in alcohol. He waited for the miraculous transition but it never came. Chaos and treachery reigned. The gates of misery opened and so started a slow, monotonous descent to hell; the man dug his nails in. Then he made himself small to resist the pain however it multiplied quickly, extending its territory until throbbing radiated from above the temple all the way down his neck.

With his head flat on the table between two bags of frozen peas, he tried to stop the advance. Contorted and gasping, he struggled again for clarity. At 6.38am, the analgesic Cavalry arrived. He welcomed them, whooping and chuckling as the pain receded but he could soon tell by their poor equipment and lack of numbers that the relief wouldn´t last long; the man grabbed the phone and dialled her number.

He heard himself imploring repeatedly “Hello? Hello? Hello?” even before she´d answered. “What do YOU want” she finally responded recognising his voice “Do you know what time it is?” “You´ve got to help me, I´m in agony…please…” She cut him off, “We´ve been through this a million times”. “But, you don´t understand, my tooth is killing me, I can´t stand it any…” Before he could finish the sentence she´d hung up. When he rang back he got a high-pitched melancholic drone that penetrated his ear, down his jaw and the ache stirred again.

Back in the bedroom, it grew worse. The dentist would be open in two hours but the man knew how he´d react from painful experience, “Don´t be a coward, man, it´s only an abscess. If you can stand a small injection we´ll take it out for God´s sake”. He could see it all clearly now, he had entered a new state, the agony had revealed his reality – he was weak and completely alone.

After that, the pills didn´t taste so bitter.

Dr Don Mac Auley.

Spinning a jig.

Published Meath Chronicle 23th April 2014.

If, in public, you´re used to flipping your nipper bottom-up to sniff his latest offering or your “wheels on the bus go round and round" all the aisles of the local supermarket then you could be accused of baby bliss; that complete lack of self-awareness parents wear with such ease, as if your little one had infected you at birth. And often to reach out to him you too regress to being an infant, squeaking, gurgling, thrumming and fee-fi-fo-fumming. You develop your act, first in private, on the bed or sofa until you take it on the road. Before you know it you´re just another street act, with a captivated audience of one. One that will smile and laugh while others whisper and stare.

But don´t take your unique fan for granted as research now shows that even newborns, despite their unfocused eyes and lack of coordination, have built in body awareness and can even learn in their sleep.

At the University of London researchers showed that when healthy newborns were shown a video of another baby´s face being stroked by a soft brush, at the same time as their own face was stroked by a similar brush they showed interest. When the video was played upside-down or the stroking was time delayed, the newborns were less interested. They concluded young babies have the ability to differentiate themselves from others - when what babies see in relation to their own bodies matches what they feel they can empathise just as adults do. Another study looked at sleeping infants just 1-2 days old. Scientists played a musical tone followed by a puff of air to their eyes 200 times over the course of a half-hour. Rapidly, the newborns learned to anticipate the puff of air upon hearing the tone by tightening up their eyelids.

So what does this mean for your distracting performances? Well, you´ll have to find new material, better routines and like every entertainer gauge the audience´s reaction, as unpredictable as it may be. For example, the other day I thought I´d brighten up the baby´s mood by showing him his reflection in the mirror; it had always worked with the dog who barked and threw mid-air tilts. At first, the baby really stared as if he didn´t recognise himself, then he put his hand up to his chin like an auld boy rubbing stubble between chubby fingers. Still looking in the mirror he wasn´t rubbing, I realised he was cleaning. The rediscovered carrot was off his chin and in his mouth before I could scrape my own chin off the floor. He gave me one of his big, thoroughly entertained smiles.

“Hey diddle diddle” seemed hollow after such a humbling experience. Like half of Ireland I had the DVD somewhere so I´d have to dig it out. Twenty years was a long time ago, worn legs and tired shoes, but it would really blow him away. It may also explain why you see your dentist jigging his Riverdance between the aisles in Tescos!

Dr Don Mac Auley.

Swings First.

Published Meath Chronicle 18/02/2014.

Becoming a father for the first time is a joyful, emotional, if shocking prospect. His eyes blinking against the bright hospital lights, your brain too searched its deepest recesses for this shiny face that stared back, one as helpless as the other. The shock passes slowly. But the first months fly by. Then one day he wants to sit up. He likes to watch the fire, the lamps and next he tries to stand. Up until this point you think you have it sorted.  If he can walk then he´ll be able to run. Down the park danger lurked everywhere – bikes, dogs, cars, your mind boggled and soon enough you feared for his future safety under a cloud of overprotection.

Now was the time to take a trip down the memory lane of my own childhood.  We would all like our youngsters to have that same carefree, happy time, as I did, playing outside in a gang of kids. Unfortunately, more and more children are finding their childhood stolen.  And the culprit is, like mine, parents´ fears. Recently, a class of eight to nine year olds was asked to describe happiness and one replied, ‘‘Happiness is being able to pay the mortgage.” Now that answer didn’t originate in the playground. The reality is kids are spending too long indoors with adults and not enough time outside with their peers.

Instead, recreation is now locked up in a home flush with gadgets. Excused as educational devices, televisions and computers become their convenient window on the world where, with less monitoring, our children make their first decisions alone. Changing the channel or surfing the web, there is no democracy of the gang and there is no social or sharing experience. We are creating a generation of individuals, mere fodder for advertisers who ruthlessly exploit them for profit. So you can’t really blame kids for wanting more stuff. And when refused we find we´re breeding resentment, not the well-adjusted offspring we hoped for.

But at least inside they are safe, I hear you cry. Safe from what? The bombardment of hungry corporations, the violence of negligent TV programmers or the obesity of inactive lifestyles; take your pick. In the 1970s, Northern Ireland wasn’t exactly the safest place on the planet yet we played outside from dawn until dusk. We heard bombs, we were aware of the dangers but it didn’t rule our lives or our parents’ every waking moment.

It is, however, silly to argue that nothing has changed since then or that nothing changes for the worse. Still we passively accept the hype and fear thrust upon us, forcing decisions that are not in our children’s best interests. We also share little or no responsibility for this unsatisfactory situation and often make the mistake of concluding that everything outside must be bad. Alternatively, we could question the world around us with more interest. We could take stock of the past and place trust in our children giving them more time together on their own terms.

I thought, we´ll start with the swings then maybe the slide. He looked chuffed.

Dr. Don Mac Auley.

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Fluoride in our water – Money down the drain.

Published Meath Chronicle - 1st Jan 2014

The Irish government has been adding fluoride to our tap water for the last 49 years to supposedly reduce tooth decay. It costs the state €12 million annually to buy, transport, store and inject the chemical into our drinking water. And next year thanks to their generous new meters we´ll be paying for the privilege. However, with the truth the government is more selfish; they don´t tell you the chemical they dose us with is an industrial waste product imported from phosphate manufacture in Spain. They don´t confess it´s NEVER been passed as safe by the Irish Medicines Board. Nor do they reveal that nearly all of this fluoride will end up in the Irish environment.

Government dentists dictate that diluting this toxic slurry in our water strengthens kids´ teeth however the mathematics of fluoridation leaves you wondering whether it´s more about waste disposal than cavity prevention. The Commission for Energy Regulation confirmed last month that 41% of our water nationally is lost in leaks – that´s €4.8 million´s worth of fluoride directly dumped into Irish streams, rivers and lakes. Of the remaining 59% that actually reaches a tap, close to 9/10s is used by industry and farming. Therefore, only 0.06% of the chemical arrives at any given house. But we only drink about 1% of the water we consume; the rest is used for washing machines, showers, toilets etc. And considering the target audience for fluoride is kids with developing teeth who don´t brush their teeth, this means that 99.9994% of the fluoridating chemical is wasted every year, €12million down the drain. That´s if fluoridation worked!

What our government can´t explain is why other European countries that don´t fluoridate have better teeth than the Irish.  World Health Organisation 2012 data for 12 year olds shows us Denmark, Belgium, Sweden, Germany, Netherlands all have less decay. 98% of Europe drinks water free from fluoride chemicals, countries that have also enjoyed vast improvements in dental health since the 1960s. Germany tried fluoridation but stopped in the 1970s, The Netherlands prohibits the addition of fluoride by law. Across the world, the fluoride tide is turning with regions in Australia and Canada now voting it out. Last summer, Israel´s Supreme Court declared the 1930s science behind fluoridation was seriously outdated so much so the danger to health far outweighed any possible benefits for teeth.

These are the same health concerns that Fine Gael cited in 2001 when they made a pre-election promise to stop fluoridation upon winning office. Their declaration referred to “skin irritations, mouth ulcers, headaches, stomach upset and it could also cause irritable bowel syndrome”. However last month, FG voted with Labour and FF to continue forcing fluoride down our throats. Profound memory loss and the ability to perform U-turns would appear to be a new fluoride side-effect that only plagues political parties in power.

Mary Raftery, the journalist who exposed child abuse in church-run schools once posed the question – Do they think we're eejits? Regarding fluoride in our drinking water, the answer is yes. And next year they'll expect us eejits to pay for their poison – as if we haven't already paid enough.

Dr Don Mac Auley.