NEW DEVELOPMENTS FOR MS SUFFERERS

Jan de Vries and I first met when he arranged that I should give a lecture in Amsterdam – with Jan himself translating it into Dutch – a language of which I am totally ignorant.

Then began an association which has lasted now for many years. It is based, I think, on a mutual respect. I respect him, for the breadth of his knowledge and his constant endeavour to widen it by studying different techniques in many different countries. He respects me, for reacting positively to the expert prediction of my imminent death, taking my future into my own hands, analysing my problem correctly and then solving it.

Our opinions meet in the realisation that there is no one and only way to control Multiple Sclerosis (or any other degenerative ‘disease’), no one and only cause, no one and only way to help even one individual. Certain guidelines appear to be applicable to most people who are degeneratives. (Since we are all degenerating after a certain age – that being the price for living – I should perhaps refer to people who are degenerating too quickly.) I soon became aware that the regimen which had helped me, also helped a great variety of other people in that unfortunate category.

The fact that the correct diet helped not only Multiple Sclerosis sufferers, but also victims of other degenerative complaints, was first brought to my attention quite fortuitously.

A lady, who had put her husband on my regimen, rang up to say she wanted to come to London to visit me. As she intended to drive well over 100 miles, I tried to dissuade her, but she wouldn’t listen. When she arrived the following day, it was to present me with a bottle of brandy and a huge basket of flowers, like the ones that stand beside film stars on gala occasions. I was completely taken aback ‘Don’t tell me your husband has begun to improve already,’ I said. ‘It’s not my husband,’ she replied. ‘It’s me. My arthritis has gone completely.’

This is the story that emerged. Her husband had said the regime would be too horrible to follow. To encourage him to persevere, she joined him in following the diet strictly. And in the event her arthritis had vanished (physical problems clear up more quickly than do nerve problems).

What does this have to do with Jan de Vries? Not much, I suppose, except that it illustrates the sort of gratitude we both evoke from those we help. I can’t speak for Jan, of course, but personally, over a period of many years, I have helped clear up almost every degenerative ‘disease’ in the book.

The case that is perhaps most outstanding is that of a composer, whom I first met in Santa Monica, Los Angeles. He was in hospital and on a breathing machine 24 hours a day. His problem was Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis, known there as Lou Gehrig’s Disease, after a famous baseball player who died of it, and known in Britain also as Motor Neurone Disease.

I had been taken to see him by his sister, a screen-writing friend, who told me that he was in danger of being taken off his life support machine. Five doctors had met that morning, she told me, to decide on his future, and the vote had gone three to two against him. Quite understandably – there are queues of deserving cases waiting to be helped and he had had his time. His own doctor had argued so persuasively on his behalf that he had been granted a ‘stay of execution’.

At that point I took over. He had money and was in a private room with a male nurse and also had his own fridge. I threw out the junk that was in there and stocked it with the appropriate foods. Then I had a long talk with his nurse.

A few months later, he was back home and on his machine only at nights. He acquired a secretary with a knowledge of music to whom he could dictate and began work again. Before I left America in 1982 he had already published two records of groups of songs. I had a letter a few years later telling me that he is still busily at work. Significantly too, since I last saw him he was hospitalised with pneumonia and came through unscathed.

Anyone who knows the customary course of this ‘disease’ – down and out in a year or so – will have to admit that something remarkable was achieved.

I report this case in detail, though I’m writing a foreword to a book by Jan de Vries. I know he has had many similar experiences, but they cannot carry conviction at second-hand. This is the sort of triumph that Jan has accomplished and he has done it time and time again. It is for Jan himself to tell you of them and to explain, in wiser language than mine, the various methods he has adopted.

Listening attentively to him while he listed the 13 possible causes, I never heard him mention the word ‘diet’, which created the impression that Multiple Sclerosis as a degenerative disease and diet were not interconnected.

During question time, I asked him whether he thought that there was no connection between Multiple Sclerosis and diet. He replied that there was absolutely no relation, but that he had heard of people who stressed the importance of a dietary connection. These people, however, were only interested in making money out of this particular affliction. I could not help but inform him that when I studied acupuncture in China, I did not come across Multiple Sclerosis cases. Unfortunately, to my great surprise, visiting Taiwan a short time later to attend a congress in the city of Taipei, I was slightly surprised to be asked to give a lecture on this subject.

I asked the organisers on my arrival for the reason behind their choice of subject and was told that Multiple Sclerosis used not to be a problem there but, unfortunately, nowadays it was. One of the Chinese professors blamed the convenience foods as well as the foods imported from the West into Taiwan.

In a way, I was quite happy to hear this, as I had always felt that diet had so much bearing on this dreadful disease. When I told the lecturer about this particular incident, he responded by saying that China was a great distance away. I suggested we stay nearer home and look at the geographical distribution of Multiple Sclerosis and relate this to the intake of foods rich in linoleic acid or fatty acids, such as fish.

If we look at the Faroe Islands, we see that there is a very low incidence of Multiple Sclerosis. The Faroe Islanders have a Danish genetic background and remained fishermen. In our own Shetland Islands, however, a drastic change in diet took place, in line with agricultural influence from Britain. With the British diet, the Shetland Islanders acquired the British incidence of Multiple Sclerosis. Similarities are noticeable in the Netherlands and in Scandinavian countries.

Although Multiple Sclerosis occurs in most western countries, with a higher incidence in the cities, we cannot underestimate the fact that the highest percentage of Multiple Sclerosis is noted in the Orkneys and Shetlands in northern Scotland. In these particular areas, occurrence of Multiple Sclerosis is three times higher than in the rest of the UK, followed by New York City, which has the second highest rate in the world. It is also interesting to see that the intake of fat in the north of Scotland is 19 per cent greater than elsewhere in the United Kingdom and, of course, one cannot forget the fact that the intake of alcoholic drinks is very high in Scotland.

It is a fact that incidence of Multiple Sclerosis is low in tropical countries. This would appear not to relate so much to the temperature as to dietary management.

In 1960, a lady consulted us in our clinic in the Netherlands. She had made a remarkable recovery on a diet designed by Dr Evers from Germany. When I examined the diet regime, I noticed that the advised fat intake was very low. Large amounts of fresh fruit, fresh vegetables and grains were recommended. From that time on, we treated Multiple Sclerosis according to the Dr Evers methods and we achieved a certain measure of success.

After having settled in Britain over 30 years ago, a lady patient informed me that she had been following the Roger MacDougall diet. She followed his instructions carefully and had improved quite considerably. Of course, I was interested in her story and wrote to Roger MacDougall. He immediately replied with the message that he felt like a caller in the wilderness. After a lot of research and then strictly adhering to a gluten-free diet, he had achieved great success in his own management of the disease. Any assistance in establishing his diet and views would be most welcome.

I went to see him shortly after, on a visit to London, and could not believe my ears when I heard him running down the stairs. When he opened the front door, I found myself looking at a most active person and the thought immediately arose that if this man had spent a period of more than 20 years in a wheelchair, a miracle must have happened. After a long conversation with him, I came to the conclusion that this man did not just have a remission; the credit for his present condition must largely be ascribed to his dietary regime.

Later on, I had to go and see some Dutch patients who stayed in the Hilton Hotel and as we found we still had so much to discuss, he decided to come along with me. Both of us walked the length of Piccadilly and his step was faster than mine.

My curiosity about his methods was aroused and I decided to do some double tests. I put a group of people on the Evers diet and another group on the MacDougall diet. Undoubtedly, the last group made more progress than the first group and since that time, working along the lines of this dietary regime, some surprising successes have been achieved.

I do hope that from the following chapters Multiple Sclerosis sufferers will gain a little more enlightenment and will also learn the importance of eating the proper food. Several other methods which will help their condition are also described.

However, let there be no misunderstanding: Multiple Sclerosis is not curable. Let me quote Roger MacDougall on that point: ‘As well try to cure a Chinaman of being Chinese. I was born a Sclerotic. It’s in my genes. It’s the hand I was dealt at conception with which to play out the game of life. Short of genetic engineering, I will die a Sclerotic. But I have lived a symptom-free life for quite a considerable number of years, except for a few brief lapses when I have been foolish enough and indulgent enough to break the rules. If I mistreat my body, it responds by renewing the old familiar symptoms – weirdly in exactly the reverse order in which they vanished. First to return is a touch of nystagmus (the last to go), then comes a slight paralysis in my right hand – my worst hand when I was crippled and the second last symptom to clear up. I’ve never dared to go on misbehaving and find out what would happen next.’

The important point then is that Multiple Sclerosis, though not curable by present drug-dependent medical methods, is controllable.

It was inevitable that his talents would be snapped up by the busy British film studios. His pen was prolific and over the next few years he had no less than 26 screen credits to his name including Midnight Menace, This Man is News and This Man in Paris. At the famous Ealing Studios, he wrote several films, one of which was to become a screen classic, The Man in the White Suit, which starred Alec Guinness and for which Roger MacDougall received an Academy Award nomination. Other films followed including The Gentle Gunman (starring Dirk Bogard and Sir John Mills), The Mouse that Roared (starring Peter Sellers) and A Touch of Larceny (starring James Mason and George Sanders).

Constant demands from film studios did not mean that MacDougall neglected his first love, the theatre. His play, To Dorothy, A Son (later filmed with Shelley Winters), was a smash hit. It ran for 18 months, as did Escapade (which was later filmed with Sir John Mills and Alistair Sim).

It was just after Escapade had opened (in 1953) that Roger MacDougall was admitted to hospital for diagnosis of a strange deterioration in his eyesight and ability to walk properly. Multiple Sclerosis was diagnosed but the truth was kept from him. Only his wife, Renée, was told of his condition, while he was told he had ‘inflammation of the nerves’. Slowly his condition worsened until he was a helpless invalid confined to a wheelchair. Defiant of his condition, he continued to work as best he could, dictating and using a tape recorder. By these means he wrote The Facts of Life and A Touch of Larceny.

Not content to accept the steady deterioration in his condition without question, it was inevitable that before long he learnt the truth – that he had Multiple Sclerosis. Refusing to believe that his condition was hopeless, MacDougall set out to evaluate his condition. At university, he had not studied medicine but he had studied logic, so that was the discipline he used, and this was his analysis. Because of his training, from anatomy onwards, a doctor naturally regards his patient as a sort of living cadaver with some flaw which is his job to correct. It might perhaps be more fruitful if he thought to consider that patient as a biochemical process going wrong, so that his job was to analyse and correct the biochemical process involved. Pursuing this biochemical approach, MacDougall went all the way back to the diet of the hunter-gatherer, the natural sustenance of our early ancestors, the diet from which modern man had progressed. As closely as he could, he reverted to it, and the effect he first noticed was that he stopped deteriorating. Encouraged, he continued it (primitive man did not have access to cows’ milk or the various cereals which became available only after the agricultural revolution). So these and many other things like artificially treated foodstuffs had to be eliminated from his diet.

Four years passed and he got no worse. And then, still strictly following his diet, he began to improve. One day he managed to button the right-hand sleeve of his shirt. That was a memorable moment. The fingers of his left hand were coming to life! Then he found that he could stand erect without support. Next he could lift a pencil with his right hand. Soon he could actually write. And all the time his spectacles were becoming too strong, so he was forced to revert to lenses prescribed previously, when his eyesight was less affected. One by one his deadened faculties came back to life and, after a few more years, he was, as far as could be seen, back to normal.