Nine Pints: a Journey Through the
Mysterious, Miraculous World of Blood
Rose George
Portobello Books, 2019, PB, 384pp, £8.56,
978-1846276125
OUT FOR BLOOD
This is a fascinating account of the
mysterious red substance that flows
around all our bodies. Divided into nine
chapters to represent the nine pints in
the average human body, it cover topics
as diverse as the origins of the blood
transfusion service, HIV in South Africa,
menstrual taboos, and the management of
major trauma. The author, Rose George, is
an investigative journalist and she creates
a compelling narrative suitable for both
lay readers and healthcare professionals.
Historical details about the discovery of
circulatory system, early attempts at blood
transfusion, and blood-letting treatments
are cleverly interwoven with current
research.
I was intrigued and a little revolted
to read about her visit to a leech farm
in Wales where tanks are designed to
give the leeches the optimum amount
of exercise. They are then starved for
6 months, sterilised by UV light, before
being dispatched by post. Leeches are
used mainly following plastic surgery to
remove blood from engorged grafts where
the capillary network has yet to recover.
Nine Pints is not always an easy read. I
was disturbed to learn about the continued
use of paid plasma donors by commercial
companies in Canada and the privatisation
of the UK plasma supply industry, and I
was saddened to read of the large number
of Nepalese women who are still subject
to freedom-limiting menstrual taboos
including having to sleep outside or stay in
a crude hut when menstruating.
I appreciated her righteous anger
about girls not attending school because
of the lack of sanitary provision in many
developing countries and young women
receiving so-called ‘blessings’ (which
might include lunch money, phone credit,
or hair weaves in return for sex with older
men in South Africa), which is fuelling
the HIV epidemic. Then there are the lost
generation of haemophiliacs in the UK
who contracted blood-borne viruses from
Factor VIII (contaminated with HIV and/or
hepatitis C during the 1970s and 1980s) and
who have yet to receive an apology from the
government.
She introduces unsung heroes such
as Janet Vaughan, who established
the UK blood transfusion service, and
Arunachalam Muruganantham, who
developed a machine that can manufacture
sanitary pads very cheaply and has provided
employment in resource-poor settings.
The final chapter gives a brief history
of vampires including a US company
called ‘Ambrosia’, which offers to reverse
the ageing process by transfusing its
customers with blood from young donors.
It concludes with a discussion of the
latest efforts to develop an artificial blood
substitute.
There are occasional jarring elements:
the author asserts that her own
endometriosis was caused by exposure
to environmental toxins, despite quoting
research studies that fail to support her
point of view, and when commenting
on people with HIV being jailed for not
disclosing their status to their partners she
states that: ‘Chlamydia and hepatitis, now
more life threatening or disabling, get no
such sanction.’
The US spellings used throughout the
book are a little incongruous in a book
dedicated to the NHS.
Overall, though, this was an entertaining
and thought-provoking read, and I was left
feeling grateful to live in a developed country
with accessible treatment for blood-borne
viruses, sanitary provision available to
all, and for our blood transfusion service
supported by altruistic donors.
Katharine Margaret Bradbury,
GP Partner, Hucknall Road Medical Centre,
Nottingham.
Email:
[email protected]
DOI: https://doi.org/10.3399/bjgp20X709181
* * * * *
Waking Up: Searching for Spirituality
Without Religion
Sam Harris
Black Swan, 2015, PB, 256pp, £9.99, 978-
1784160029
ONLY THE SPIRIT?
Sam Harris captures a popular call for
spirituality that is good for mental health
and not tainted by religion. He expands
the secular concept of spirituality fruitfully,
but his insights are limited by a lack of
academic rigour or practitioner experience.
Harris argues that spirituality is not only
‘an indispensable part of understanding
the nature of the mind’ but also requires
a broader focus than the individual.
Spirituality has ethical and relational
aspects distinguishing it from concepts of
individual mental wellness or peace. This
is an important insight: the need to think
about spirituality in a more communal way.
Harris’s propositions are informed by
neuroscience, Buddhist teachings, and
personal experiences of psychotropic
drugs. He dismisses religious traditions,
including contemplative traditions, even
though they may have much in common
with what he regards as spiritual. Harris
is upfront about this, but this suggests an
ideological position rather than a genuine
enquiry. Harris creates an account of
spirituality later in the book that is primarily
neurological, calling on functional MRI
and other evidence. Extensive notes and
references are provided but these omit
mainstream academic work on spirituality
and health/mental health, for example,
that of Chris Cook, John Swinton, or Harold
Koenig, which would provide balance to
Harris’s arguments, or in some cases
challenge them.
Those looking for help with spiritual
practices will find brief advice on dealing
with negative emotions, but Harris strays
readily into bizarre-sounding meditations,
including imagining one has no head!
Harris not only references mindfulness-
192 British Journal of General Practice, April 2020
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