"Antibiotics, October 16th 1940 : 75 Years Young !"

My first book on "Agape Penicillin" ,  due out early in 2015 , is all about the brave Scottish Presbyterian doctor (Dawson) who first gave us penicillin the antibiotic.

It is not at all about the Scottish Presbyterian doctor (Fleming) who discovered penicillin --- but then only used it indolently, for twelve wasted years , as an useless antiseptic.

I have entitled it '75 years young' rather than '75 years old' to emphasize that the real miracle of antibiotics has mostly been for in its effects on younger rather than older patients.

Because, just as in the earlier miracle with Lazarus , people who get life-saving antibiotics still die - the miracle simply consists in moving the goalposts further along , to a point closer to Life's natural ending.

Before 1940, few large upper class families - let alone poorer families - did not know the terror of a healthy five year old child being here today and in an premature grave a few days later.

Those of us of a certain generation know well the difference between an antiseptic and an antibiotic.

Antiseptics were when we scrapped our knee falling off our tricycle - it was part of a ritual involving a cookie, "a kiss to make it better" and some orange liquid from a little bottle.

The orange stuff hurt like hell, hindered healing and promoted scarring but it was all part of the ritual back then.

But antibiotics !

You'll alway remember that fast as the ambulance was , your old family doctor (who usually moved with slow dignity) was much faster.

His car came around the corner on two wheels and he took the steps three at a time - no word of greeting - simply hauled a big needle out of his black bag and plunged it into your baby sister.

You were too young to know exactly why the room was so still and tense - a neighbour had whispered 'meningitis' but that tension suddenly broke with the doctor's next and unexpected act.

He cuddled up to your mother , put an arm familiarly around her shoulders and said "Marge , where's that cuppa ?"

Marge !?  Not even your father called her that.

She looked up startled and then happily bustled off , saying "oh , where my manners."

And your father - for the first and only time in your young life - starting crying - big sobs - but smiling to beat the band all the time.

Your little sister is now a grandmother as old as the doctor was then, with grandchildren of her own.

That's what an antibiotic is - and that is why it is so worth celebrating ...

Oct 16 1940 : the disease was MODERNITY

A marvellously effective drug lay on a British shelf, unused, for twelve long years --- 'a miracle cure in search of a disease' --- on October 16th 1940 in a Manhattan hospital it finally found it : the disease was MODERNITY and the cure was penicillin.

The nominal disease Dr Martin Henry Dawson was seeking to cure that day (almost exactly 70 years ago) with the first ever needleful of the antibiotic penicillin was SBE, an invariably fatal calcination of the heart valves.

 However the real disease he was seeking to heal was modern utilitarianism, aka stone-heartedness.

Neither Fleming or Florey - to put it mildly - were up for this job.

In a few weeks,Dawson discovered he himself was dying as well but he felt duty-bound to carry on helping the helpless and the hopeless, despite a 'Total War' atmosphere which assigned 'useless mouths' like the SBEs to baneful neglect --- or worse.