alcohol

Lychnobite, by Simma: An album review.

There is a particular pub in Gateshead which I rather like. It’s called The Central Bar and it holds good memories for me. It’s a traditional haunt for my good friends and I on Christmas Eve, it has an excellent range of beers, and does some good nosh too.

And so it was that on one particular Sunday afternoon just before Christmas, three friends and I were in there. We were suitably adorned in tacky, sparkly Christmas attire and were festively tipsy, when a chap started playing his acoustic guitar and singing in the corner of the pub.

Given our rather jolly state at the time, we showed our appreciation of this man’s lovely voice by bellowing along to some of the songs and inventing new interpretive dance routines to others (And thus, the great Gateshead Sit Down dance was born). We were a source of amusement for the singer, who declared that he’d never had anyone invent dances for him before and patiently explained that no magic was at play when we had loudly declared that we wanted him to play Fairytale Of New York then he actually did, prompting us to look drunkenly confused. “Girls, I’m not on the radio you know. I can actually hear you.” It was a really fun afternoon, and we left giggling hysterically and wondering if we could ever show our faces in there again.

The singer in question was Simma, and I’ve since seen him play several times. He fairly recently released his new album, Lychnobite, so I snapped up a copy of it and thought I would review it for you dear people.

On first listen, it’s on the whole a cheery affair, with upbeat tunes perfect for having on in the background while you do something else. Subsequent listens via headphones reveal a more melancholic, complex side to the album.

A particular highlight for me is “Black Dog”, a song about depression which combines a nifty little toe-tapping rhythm with an almost monotonous melody. This makes for an atmospheric juxtaposition, much like the illness itself. Next up is the joyous “Sing”, a marching, uplifting little song that I tend to happily belt out when I have it on at home.

Other songs are more calmly folky, all with a touch of cleverness to the songwriting that I find really pleasing. There is a clever use of vocals throughout the album (see Whisky Highway as an example), something which I find quite pleasingly different, given my previous experience of Simma is limited to him and one guitar in the corner of the Central Bar

“The Drink” is gorgeous, plaintive, and full of feeling. Meanwhile, “Sixteen Tons” is bluesy and pleasingly cynical, managing to blend together a very American sound with tales of Benwell woe. “Happy New Year” is likely to make its way onto my Christmas Songs For The Existentially Wounded list this year, with its mix of optimism and sadness for times gone by.

The other thing that I really like about Simma is how his Geordie accent creeps into the edges of his songs, lending them a little bit of added personality. All in all, this is a lovely, complicated album which is likely to be on heavy rotation in my household, nestled in nicely between Great Lakes by John Smith and Under Mountains by Rachel Sermanni. 

Hxxx

Nelson's: Suggesting that your kids need mood stabilisers from two years old.

You know of Rescue Remedy, right? You probably had an aunt who would constantly swig a drop for her nerves, or might have even taken some before a driving test or exam.

Rescue Remedy has become a pretty well known brand- so well known, in fact, that most people don't bother finding out whats in it, or what principles its based on. You wouldn't want to know the recipe of Coca-Cola before you take a refreshing swig- you'd just assume that because its a well known brand, its probably going to work.

Rescue Remedy is, however, a whole load of woo nonsense. Sorry, but there's no other way of putting it. Some dude called Edward Bach decided- apropos of nothing- a good few years ago that some flowers, if left out in the sun and dissolved in alcohol,  will be able to balance physical and emotional distress. This is interesting, really, given that its taken the entire fields of neuroscience, psychiatry, and psychology many, many years to get to a point where there are still a vast amount of unknowns regarding mood disorders.

Science is getting there- slowly- when it comes to understanding things like depression. It's a vastly complicated subject. There's no perfect cure-all drug out there for treating such things- mainly because we don't yet understand it that well yet. So forgive me if I am skeptical that some random guy years ago has just randomly (without any basis in science) decided that, for example, mustard flower:

 "is the remedy for deep gloom and depression that descends for no apparent reason out of a clear blue sky. People in this state often list all the reasons they have to feel happy and contented, but still everything looks black and hopeless to them. The remedy helps to dispel the clouds so that we can once again appreciate the joy and peace in our lives."

Rescue Remedy is a blend of some of Dr Bach's made up flower remedies, diluted in brandy. You're supposed to reach for it in times of anxiety, as a soother. Funnily enough, brandy, being alcohol and all, it might make you feel a little bit better, but similarly to homeopathic remedies, they are dilutes such that very little or no levels of active ingredient are likely to remain. So even if Dr Bach were right about the flowers (despite evidence and science suggesting otherwise), there wouldnt be enough flower-stuff in a drop of it anyway to make a difference.

I can't quite get away from the fact that this is a cynical product which Dr Bach made up in an attempt to target wealthy women ("ooh! pretty flowers!") in the days where women were considered "hysterical" and many were labelled as having "problems with their nerves" based entirely on their sex.

Anyway, why am I on about Nelsons, and why am I on about children? Well, because the Bach Rescue Remedy brand- in all of its many, varying, and just-as-cynically money-grabbing-as-Big-Pharma- forms- is sold via Nelson's homeopathic brand. That's Nelson's who the FDA discovered weren't putting magic woo water in all of their magic woo water pills, but were happy enough to put particles of glass in there. That's Nelson's who are all "ooh, we care about you and your healthcare unlike those big meanie pharmaceutical companies who only care about money" all the time.

Well, I happened to stumble across this product of theirs today. Rescue Remedy Gummy Stars- aimed at children from 2 years and onwards. According to Nelsons:


"The first day back at school is a big day so parents should have a secret weapon against tiny tears on standby in the school run bag. RESCUE® Gummy stars - The latest addition to the RESCUE brand come in fun star shapes to help turn a frown upside down at the school gates and each Gummy Star contains four drops of RESCUE, the famous soothing combination of five flower essences."

What's wrong with that? The fact the Nelsons are attempting to medicalise a perfectly normal part of childhood purely for their profit, that's what. Being nervous on your first day of school is entirely normal, especially for a little one. What they need to do is to develop normal coping mechanisms to deal with their anxiety. What they don't need to feel is that their anxiety is abnormal and something which only a medicine can fix.

When encountering the world of complementary or alternative medicine, I often like to stop for a moment and replace the names of the companies with those of Big Pharma. It gives a good indication of whether or not there really is a difference in practices between the two camps, and whether people's reactions would be different

"The first day back at school is a big day so parents should have a secret weapon against tiny tears on standby in the school run bag. PROZAC® Gummy stars - The latest addition to the PROZAC brand come in fun star shapes to help turn a frown upside down at the school gates and each Gummy Star contains 10mg of PROZAC, the famous soothing antidepressant fluoxetine."

Icky, right?

Hxxx

Red Wine as a painkiller... In babies?!

A couple of years ago, I was working a locum shift in a supermarket pharmacy. It was quite late at night, and a man came up to the counter to ask me if I did circumcisions. I assumed I had heard incorrectly, but no. "I thought you would be able to do circumcisions, since you can do healthcare services and you have a private room" he said, pointing at the extremely small and flimsy consulting "room" and the end of the counter. I couldn't help but notice the small boy cowering behind him as I politely explained that no, circumcision certainly wasn't a pharmacy service.

At the time, I remember being amazed that it would occur to someone to take their child to a supermarket for what is a surgical procedure. Whilst it may be considered minor surgery, I'm sure to the young boy himself it didn't seem all that minor, and I'm pretty sure he wouldn't be wanting a pharmacist to do it in the middle of a supermarket with only some thin plastic walls between him and the vegetable aisle.

Anyway, I shall leave aside the ethics of circumcision for now, and consider a tweet I saw this morning by Andy Lewis. One particular Doctor, on his website, is advising pain relief options for babies who are about to be circumcised. He advises loading the child up on red wine as a preferred option. Now hold on here, this is a GMC registered Dr advising on giving babies alcohol. Whilst he doesn't give any information about how much wine to give, i'm assuming it would have to be enough to get the child at least slightly intoxicated to have any painkilling effect. A quick google search suggests the 8th day after birth is a usual time for the circumcision to take place, e.g:

"To give the baby sweet, red wine prior to the procedure. (Kiddush wine is ideal). This is very effective in calming the baby. Ideally it is given about 15 minutes before the circumcision and I will give it on arrival if you wish. You will need to provide the wine." (http://www.mohel-circumcision.co.uk/1298.html)

At this point, let us consult TOXbase.org, the database of the National Poisons Information Service (NPIS). They advise that any children under the age of 10 who are symptomatic due to an alcohol ingestion (i.e. intoxicated) are taken into hospital for medical assessment.

Why is it dangerous to advise wine as a painkiller in a child of this age? Well, alcohol in children can be very nasty. It can cause hypoglycaemia, particularly in children, and a seemingly well child can sometimes suddenly and quickly go downhill fast- that's why NPIS recommend that they are observed in hospital.

Such advice, coming from a trusted Doctor, is very concerning indeed. It appears from the website that he expects the baby to be "prepared" prior to his arrival, so he is expecting the parents to administer and provide the wine (whilst he says he can give it "if they wish", to me this implies that its more usual for the parents to give it). He gives no directions as to how much wine to give, which could be easily misinterpreted by worried parents. 

I  emailled the GMC to ask what their stance on such advice is. They eventually got back to me to tell me that it wasn't a concern as usually only a tiny amount is given. This doesn't seem like a very satisfying answer, given that either a) the child is given so little that they don't have effective pain relief or b) they're given enough to be toxic.