Maurice Gueret

Should I take my tablets at night or in the morning?

Fuming president

We humans face an unholy amount of flak for the weather these days, with climate alarmism at deafening levels. Farmers, farting beasts and anyone without a bike are easy targets. Latest to be scapegoated are asthmatics, whose tiny life-saving inhalers are inside the climate-change punch bag for depleting the planet’s ozone. Irish presidents, past and present, have been at the vanguard of the clarion calling. And big air-milers, all of them. Mr Higgins jetted off to New

York in September to tell the UN that the cost of inaction on climate change would be catastrophic. On returning home, he welcomed the President of Cuba with open arms up to the Phoenix Park. Getting El Presidente up to the Aras involved a dozen large cars screeching up Dublin’s Grand Canal from the city centre. They were preceded by a huge fleet of Garda motorbikes who had morning traffic pumping stationary emissions out for about three turns of lights at each junction. Bemused motorists also witnessed a few dozen military motorcycles in hot pursuit, in case of snipers at Harold’s Cross or Rialto. In pollution circles, motorcades must rank among the worst offenders. Strange how climate-prophetsin-chief never measure the carbon footprint of diplomatic niceties.

New prescription

Social prescribing is all the buzz in British health circles. Boris & Co are sore at losing the European Medicines Agency, which left London for Amsterdam after the Brexit vote. So they want to encourage doctors to prescribe alternatives to pills and potions. A lot of it consists of things our ancestors took for granted — choirs, reading books and gardening. One that caught my eye is walking football, a kind of slow soccer for grey boomers. Run and your opponent gets a free kick. Slide tackles, or any tackles, risk red cards. And you are not allowed anywhere near the goalmouth. Sounds a bit like the Republic of Ireland soccer team. Our HSE has been doing its bit for social prescriptions, with leaflets on the benefits of transplanting men into sheds and ladies into knitting circles. I incline to the view that it’s a fancy term for what good GPs have recommended for years. The most important part of many consultations is often what’s said, not what’s written.

Pills with paella

I am fascinated by new medical research from Spain, which suggests people with high blood pressure gain more benefit from medication taken when going to bed rather than first thing in the morning. Conventional medical wisdom, or habit, usually has doctors and pharmacists advising a single dose first thing in the morning. This large study of 19,000 patients reports in the European Heart Journal that heart attacks, strokes, cardiac failure and deaths are considerably lower when medicines are taken in the evening. Their data from blood-pressure monitoring backs up the statistics. Patients who have night-time dips in blood pressure are at lower risk than those who don’t. This study suggests an evening dose helps more people receive that protective dip. Spaniards are well known for eating late in the evening

— you’d be lucky to get a mouthful of anything in Madrid before the nine o’clock news. So, don’t be surprised if you see pillboxes coming out with the paella and tempranillo. More work and study will be demanded before a wholesale shift from dawn to dusk is recommended. But it’s a most interesting observation, and certainly worth discussing with your doctor.

ID pants

There was an old medical jape told between doctors about a married couple attending their GP. The gentleman was hard of hearing, so his good lady came along to make sure none of his complaints were lost in translation. Having listened to a litany of symptoms, the doctor stroked his chin and said he would order a barrage of tests. ‘What sort of tests?’ asked the diligent wife. ‘Well a stool test, a urine test, a sweat test and some blood for starters,’ said the doctor. The man put his hand to his ear to ask his wife what the doctor had said. ‘He needs to examine your underpants,’ she shot back. I was reminded of this quip recently when it was announced that a certain Mr Al-Baghdadi of Syria was identified in advance of an American military assault by examination of his stolen underpants. Forensic wizards can now extract DNA from your best pair of St Bernard’s. No wonder the saintly

French abbot who reformed monasticism was known as the Doctor of the Church.