The Family White: An Arsenicum Poem

Enjoy learning about Arsenicum – Homeopathic Remedy
Arsenicum
The Family White
Welcome to
Dr John English’s Homeopathic Poems
This poem and its cartoons introduce you to the
homeopathic remedy Arsenicum
This poem contains over 100 rubrics (symptoms characteristic of
the Arsenicum constitution). Can you spot them?
For the answers and much more see:
www.enjoylearninghomeopathy.co.uk
Text © Dr John English, 2014
Illustrations © the estate of Cecil Holden, 2014
The Family White
Dr John English
I.
Come all and listen while I tell
A tale you should all know full well,
Of Arthur and of Amy White,
And of their family’s sad plight.
23
Compounded with tobacco smoke.
No wonder they would wheeze and choke!
The cause of it, do not forget,
Was living in the cold and wet.
Their diet, too, was never good,
They ate more soft fruit than they should,
45
They knew ‘twas wrong, and therefore built
A life of anxious fear and guilt
In which, despite their every care
Was hopelessness and black despair.
67
But first of all I need to say
They are not always seen this way;
In time we will portray the worst,
The better features must come first.
Their house and garden might be seen
Pictured in a magazine.
Furnished with so great a care
It doesn’t have a ‘lived in’ air.
A place where every flower grows
In formal, neat and tidy rows,
89
So horrified at any dirt,
No spot of it on any shirt.
As if such cleaning could begin
To wash away their inner sin.
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II.
Arthur’s keen and lively mind
Is of the intellectual kind.
His logic leaves unturned no stone,
He picks each problem to the bone.
13
Perfection is his worthy aim,
And if not reached, then he will blame
Himself severely, and he’ll rail
At anyone who made it fail.
1415
Immaculate in every way,
His dress, surroundings, thoughts, array
Themselves so tidily they give
The feeling they’re too good to live.
1617
From somewhere deep within, a drive
Forces Arthur still to strive
When other peoples’ work is done,
If his life’s battle’s to be won.
Restlessly it makes him pace
The floor, as if all life’s a race,
Nor mind nor body ever still
While there’s a spark of hungry will.
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Then at the weekend he may stop,
And with a fearful headache drop.
2021
His staff are seldom heard to moan
At his authoritative tone,
Though critical, he’s always fair
If work’s well done, so they don’t care
To flout the least of his commands
And have to face much worse demands.
2223
His business sense is very good,
His projects flourish as they should.
From humble start, as mere inspector,
Success as Managing Director
Demonstrates achieved ambition –
It’s a family tradition!
Though anxious now about his health
He shows some signs of increased wealth.
His (also Ars.) finance advisor
Eggs him on to be a miser,
Also to arrogance and pride.
2425
If with challenge now you tried,
Or criticism of any kind
You’d see a different sort of mind,
For these he cannot take at all,
Or anything that makes him small!
2627
III.
Amy’s ambition now appears
Focussed on family’s careers.
29
A disciplinarian at home,
3031
Yet in their interest she’ll roam
The country till she’s tried
And found the best. Then, satisfied
She takes the children off to schools
Whose spotless uniforms and rules
Accord most with her own desires.
3233
To more than school, though, she aspires,
And for their lives to be complete
Her children now must all compete:
Piano, violin and dance,
Brownies and scouts. If there’s a chance
3435
To win some special scholarship,
No effort spared, she’ll make the trip,
And hours spend in her smart new car,
Chauffeuring children near and far.
3637
At home, while she may nag and scold,
Which neighbouring Mum would make so bold
To criticise her darling brood?
She’d boastful turn, or even rude
In their defence. Put to the test
Her children have to be the best.
3839
Yet, strangest thing I have to tell:
She never thinks they’re really well.
The herald sniffle of coryza
Alertly heard, she deems it wiser
To pack the poor kid off to bed,
Lest in the morning he’ll be dead!
“Pneumonia at least!” she’ll say,
“Please doctor, quickly! Come this way!”
Her ‘please’ is an imperious ‘must’:
Her doctor has to earn his crust!
4041
IV.
It’s midnight round to one or two
That little Willie White is due
To get whatever his next plight is,
Asthma or gastroenteritis.
43
Whichever form his illness takes
With striking suddenness he wakes,
And then, with swift acceleration
From fearful, anxious agitation,
Too gross, ‘twould seem, should one observe
Than his apparent ills deserve,
Restless to his mother turns,
And lies exhausted on her bed,
Wishing and fearing he’ll be dead!
Upon his pale face a sweat,
Then cold and shivery he’ll get,
Relieved when mother makes him warm
– If he’s running true to form.
4445
Now, should you not be a believer
In the Arsenic Album fever,
I’ll tell you more about young Willie:
He starts by being extra chilly,
Till violent rigors rack his frame,
And icy wave sensations tame
His spirit. Then his doting mother
With heated drink helps him recover.
But not for long! Soon burning heat
Will make his misery complete.
“Help, help!” he cries, his mind in turmoil,
“My blood is just about to boil!
There’s bees and wasps around my bed!
Why are they buzzing round my head?
And over there that horrid shape
Must be a thief! Help me escape!”
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Suddenly he’s through the door
To another bed on another floor;
Then, breaking into copious sweat
Cold and exhausted soon he’ll get,
Which leads him to a raging thirst
For icy drinks, till he would burst.
But do not, please, form the belief
That drinking will give him relief.
That which can quickly downward plummet
Just as fast returns – as vomit.
Thus does he change, from spell to spell,
Till he’ll eventually get well.
4849
V.
Now, as if looking through a glass
I’ll tell of Arthur’s Auntie Floss.
She lies, knees drawn up, on her bed,
Believing that she’ll soon be dead,
51
Which really will be no surprise:
Her sallow, pale, sunken eyes
And wasted, shrivelled dried-up skin
Bespeak the plight that she is in.
The flesh has gone that once did grace
A full and quite attractive face,
Her bony knee and matchstick arm,
Protruding ribs and joints alarm
Her family and doctor too,
Who know the pain that she’s been through.
52
53
“If only she would eat,” they say,
“Or she will surely waste away.
The tastiest morsels she could choose,”
But in the end she will refuse.
She feels so sick with just the sight
Or smell of them, although she might
Just sip a little drink of water,
Proffered by her anxious daughter.
5455
The wracking bouts of pain, which burns,
And comes in periodic turns
Is at the zenith of its power
At midnight’s dark and dreary hour.
Attacks her then like red-hot pins –
A punishment for bygone sins?
5657
Of strangest features this is chief:
More heat will bring her pain relief.
It isn’t only auntie’s gloom
That spreads itself throughout the room.
The pungent, cadaveric smell
Which we, the doctors, know too well,
Is more than just the diarrhoea
That can incontinently appear –
Reminds us all of Adam’s curse:
The diagnosis can’t be worse.
5859
Her body is too weak to try
To move, yet restless, anxious eye
Beseeches everyone to stay.
She’s frightened when we go away.
6061
VI.
Treating patients of this kind
Lingers in the doctor’s mind.
In anxious, though commanding tone
They question you upon the phone.
What do you do? Where qualified?
Eventually, when satisfied,
So you will understand them better,
Their history, neatly in a letter
Precedes the consultation date.
63
Early there, they sit and wait
Inspecting all with eagle eye,
The room, staff, patients, all espy
Fidgeting, till from smart brief-case
Extracting work with which to grace
The lagging time till consultation.
What a trying confrontation!
64
65
He tells the story his own way,
Not allowing you to say
More than “yes”, “indeed,” “ah so!”
Through endless detail he will go,
Complete with full interpretation
6667
Told with conviction and elation.
Then, when all has been confided,
He’ll tell you next what he’s decided,
How to investigate, refer –
And only then can you confer!
6869
His anxious fear is plain to see
His speech and body both agree,
Gaze gimlet-piercing through and through,
Getting ever nearer you,
Leaning forward on his chair
His hands are clasped tight in despair.
7071
As the meeting nears its end
More anxious energy he’ll spend
To keep it going. Now he’ll bring,
Repeatedly, “Just one more thing!”
And afterwards, to make quite sure,
He’ll button-hole you at the door,
Giving not the slightest heed
To other patients, and their need.
Though the pathology he hates,
Just have a care when it abates,
He’ll view your therapy’s achievement
As if it were a huge bereavement!
He so loves talking of complaints
He’d try the patience of the saints.
7273
Accompany what you prescribe
With reassuring diatribe.
With ills so bad he burns in hell,
And he demands you make him well.
You! You’re responsible for his plight
So just make sure you put him right,
Or else! And in the end th’unspoken threat
Will make you anxious, make you sweat!
7475
Dr John English’s Homeopathic Poems
Dr John English has written over thirty poems and
other creative learning materials for homeopaths. This
poem contains over 100 rubrics (characteristic
features of Arsenicum). Can you spot them? For the
answers, other poems and much more see:
www.EnjoyLearningHomeopathy.co.uk
Other titles
Sepia
The Confessions of Clara Cuttlefish
Rhus Toxicodendron
The Rhyme of Ivy Rusto
Gelsemium
No Joy for Jasmine!
About the Author
Dr John English FRCGP FF Hom Dip Med Ac, lives in
Salisbury with his wife, Wendy, and Jem the dog. They
are visited frequently by an ever increasing number of
grandchildren. He graduated in medicine in 1957, soon
discovering – during national service in Nigeria – that
general practice was where his heart lay. He developed
a thriving and unusual National Health Service practice,
introducing homeopathy and other complementary techniques to his
patients. For this innovative approach, he was awarded the Fellowship of
the Royal College of General Practitioners. He taught homoeopathy for over
forty years, developing his unique body of teaching materials as a lecturer at
London’s Royal Homoeopathic Hospital and as a guest speaker worldwide.
He was also rapporteur for an EC (EU) committee that met for three years
evaluating homeopathy, though its positive findings were never published.
Whilst most famous amongst his family for verses on annual birthday cards,
his homeopathic poems have been received with affection – and sometimes
astonishment! – by his pupils and colleagues. Accurate, yet engaging, the
remedy poems reflect his creative approach to passing on the wisdom of
homeopathy to new generations of homeopaths.
About the Artist
Cecil Holden (1919–2004) started sending cartoons to magazines as a
glider pilot during the Second World War. After demob he entered the
teachers’ training scheme eventually spending his working life in primary
schools in Sheffield. As well as watercolours and cartoons, he was an
accomplished musician, writing and arranging music and publishing poetry
and articles on a variety of subjects.
And plenty more!
7677
Did you spot the Arsenicum rubrics in
the poem?
For the answers and much more, visit
www.enjoylearninghomeopathy.co.uk
Enjoy Learning Homeopathy