Let There Be Light by J. F. Coon, M. D.

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Mar 21, 1912

“Let There Be Light”

By J. F. Coon, M. D.

J. F. COON, M. D.

The decadence of health and physical vigor in the human family is painfully in evidence in the present generation, despite the fact that it is an age of boasted enlightenment and intelligence. Added to this is the fact that, though the force of medical doctors of to-day far outnumbers that of any previous age in the world's history, chronic invalidism was never so prevalent as at the present time. It is also a fact that this condition is much more in evidence in communities where a doctor is obtainable at a moment's notice.

To the thinking mind is suggested the possibility that much of this lingering chronic illness is traceable to the fact that those who suffer from it are reaping the result of a protracted course of mineral and vegetable poisoning, administered under the direction of legalized medical practitioners. Proof of the correctness of this conclusion is by no means wanting to him who diligently seeks for it. In fact, such cases are of frequent occurrence. As an illustration of this, I cite a case that came to my knowledge while I was riding on the boat from Riparia to Lewiston a few years ago. On the trip I became acquainted with a farmer who took the boat at one of the stations along the way, and in the course of our conversation the subject of drug medication was discussed. This man gave me the benefit of his experience, which I shall relate.

During the early nineties he was located at Moscow, Idaho, and was engaged in the livery business. As times were very hard, many of the farmers were forced to sell their homes at a great sacrifice, the purchasers being capitalists from the East. Naturally these men employed a livery team, and as this man was well versed in the condition of many of the farmers and knew who wanted to sell, his services were in good demand by the prospective buyers.

His wife, who was a large, vigorous woman, in excellent health as a rule, was feeling somewhat indisposed one day, and suggested that a doctor be called. This suggestion was acted upon, and her case was undertaken by a prominent doctor of the place. Little improvement seemed to follow as a result of the treatment, and that was soon lost sight of in a change for the worse. This condition continued, and month after month passed with marked evidence that the patient was gradually and surely failing. By the end of two years her condition had become critical, and she required the constant attention of the physician. Her life was despaired of, and all the sorrowing husband could look forward to was the fatal termination of the case almost any moment.

About this time a wealthy doctor from Illinois was there, who was enabled to make many excellent purchases by the aid of the liveryman. One day the woman was very ill, and the doctor in charge of her case having been called out of town, there seemed to be no one to give her the desired attention. In this emergency the doctor from Illinois was called in and was asked to give relief until the return of the regular physician. After a careful investigation of the case he said to the husband: “I am not at liberty to practise in this State, but I will tell you what to do to save your wife. She is dying of drug medication, and will not last long if left where this doctor is. If you want to save her, take her away where he can not quickly reach her, and she will get well.”

Acting on this suggestion, he immediately closed out his business and moved down on the Snake River, twenty miles from her physician. The result was very striking. In a short time she was rapidly recovering. In a few months her health was restored; and though several years had elapsed between her recovery and the time when this was related to me, she had not had occasion to call for medical aid.

As a further illustration of this principle, I cite a case that came under my own observation in Walla Walla. The patient, a woman, was taken sick on the fifth of July, and the family physician was called at once. He had charge of the case until she was so low that her life was despaired of. For weeks she had been turned on a sheet, and was so wasted and emaciated that there seemed no ground for hope that she could ever be any better. The medicine was being frequently changed, until at last there was more than a bushel of bottles from which scarcely anything had been taken out. The anxious friends at last pressed the doctor to express an opinion as to the probability of recovery, and were told that there was no hope.

At that time I was called on the case, and though it looked so hopeless, proceeded to do the best I could under the circumstances. All medicines were discontinued, and in their stead rational methods were introduced. In less than a week the patient was able to turn over in bed without assistance, and within two weeks could sit bolstered up in the bed. A rapid and complete recovery crowned the effort, and the patient, who is now sixty-nine years of age, is still alive and well. This occurred about three years ago.

To this might be added scores of similar cases, but this must suffice, for it serves as an illustration of the principle in question.

Walla Walla, Wash.

(To be concluded)