MEDICAL
INFORMATION
FOR KIDS
INFORMATION
FOR KIDS
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12 Mar 2010 | Press Release
Being a massive hypochondriac, I was apprehensive about reading what are basically detailed outlines of diseases I might get. Having convinced myself already this month that I have bowel cancer, diabetes, stomach cancer, tuberculosis, and malaria, I was wary of adding another four potential illnesses to my already abundant roster of life threatening conditions.
I practically lived in Great Ormond Street Hospital from the ages of 4 to 6 after I was given a diagnosis of the bowel condition Hirschsprung's disease. It's fair to say that dealing with illness has not been my forte; the false calmness of the hospital waiting room and any word ending in "osis" still send a fearful shiver down my spine.
The hysterical media coverage of the recent swine flu pandemic has not helped, and after many sleepless nights filled with routine forehead temperature checks I was glad to see those now familiar words on the cover of one of the four comic books I had received for review.
As soon as I heard the words "medical comics" I expected them to be little more than science books with a few sheepish drawings of swords and ninjas peppered across the jargon rich page in a vain attempt to engage children with words they can't even pronounce let alone understand. I also expected the "dumb kid" stereotype to be used, and I was not wrong, with the title "Medikidz" indicating that whoever the big shot doctor person was behind these books clearly thought that a disregard for spelling would attract children.
It's not cool - or should I say kewl - or clever to change an "s" to a "z"; and as I fall in the age bracket (9 to 15 years) that these comics are aimed at, I was annoyed that they hadn't even been able to write the title without patronising already sick kids.
Despite these early misapprehensions I found the comics (there are now more than 30 in the pipeline, illustrated by the graphic novelist John Taddeo of Marvel Comics fame) fantastic. The characters had big, hilarious personalities, and the illustrations wouldn't have looked out of place on Pixar's drawing boards. More to the point, I learnt a lot from reading them.
The language wasn't in the slightest bit condescending, and the larger than life medical superheroes taught me a lot about HIV, attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, allergies, and, of course, swine flu. The comics expertly mixed scientific terms with simple analogies and achieved a superb balance of seriousness and bright humour. I didn't feel as though the heroes were undermining the seriousness of the illnesses.
As I expected, there were ninjas, but they were used to symbolise white blood cells as part of the outstanding personification of the immune system that was one of the books' major virtues. Made into an army, the immune system was always going to be a key component in a book about illnesses, and this metaphor was empowering, putting into context the complex job of the immune system while making readers feel secure in the knowledge that they command deadly legions of crack soldiers, always ready to defend the body against evil pathogens. I'm sure that the perceived companionship of the immune system would help a sick child no end.
Thanks to a complex array of drugs and other treatments I remember little of my own medical experience. An x-ray here, an injection there are all that is left of an experience I'm glad to have left behind. What I do remember clearly, though, was how meaningless my illness seemed.
All it was to me was a strange name and a list of painful symptoms. I don't ever recall anyone explaining to me what was happening inside my body and why my stomach always felt like it was on fire - it was just "Eat this" and "This won't hurt" or "Inject this and you won't feel that." It made my illness seem undefeatable, like an invincible behemoth of horrible twinges and feelings.
These comics really show their worth in explaining what is actually happening, making the illness seem 10 times less daunting and, ultimately, manageable. To explain ADHD "your message cells are on strike" seems a lot less frightening than "You won't ever be able to sit still or concentrate." As Sun Tzu says in The Art of War, "If you know both yourself and your enemy you can win 100 battles without a single loss."