Morning rounds: The best prescriptions can't be filled by a pharmacy

Every day in the office, I prescribe medicines. On the script, I write the person's name, the drug, how it comes (in a cream, suspension or pill), the amount the person takes: one pill or three-quarters of a teaspoon or two puffs. I note the frequency: once a day or every four hours. Finally, I indicate the duration. The person should take the medicine for five days, or daily for a month or a lifetime.

More times than I wish to count, I have unintentionally written the wrong prescription. Most mistakes have been inadvertent, like scribbling the sister's name instead of the brother's. Others were beyond my understanding, such as when the choice of antibiotic didn't kill the unknown resistant germ; the patient developed a reaction to the medicine without a previous history of problems or allergies; or when side effects were greater than anticipated, when they were supposed to be rare. There are the other times when it was just plain wrong. It was the wrong medicine or the wrong dose or the wrong frequency or duration.

As a physician, the more I see young people in trouble or parents hurting or relationships crumbling or children acting out, there is a growing feeling that I am again prescribing the wrong therapy. This time, it is not the wrong name or dose or an allergy to the compound. It is realizing that what I am writing on the pad, while perhaps a temporary fix or even a long-term solution, doesn't treat the underlying pathology. Instead of pills and potions, I want to write prescriptions to dispense liberal doses of love.

For many readers, this sounds very unscientific and especially something not taught in medical school. Or it goes beyond the bounds established in the academic halls of learning. For others, it is beyond the confines of professionalism. It is foolishly and fatally sentimental, passing crazy on the fast lane.

Let me defend my thoughts. Modern peer-reviewed neuro-science supports the ideas of mother-infant attachment. Animal models, human experiments, and just plain common sense emphasize the critical role of the mother for not only the physical survival of a newborn but also the emotionally healthy existence of her offspring. The biology of this connection is visible on brain scans and chemical tests. I am suggesting that this attachment, this physical brain-to-brain synchrony, is love. And it is exactly what children everywhere need. Every parent should receive the prescription with the child's name filled in. The medicine is LOVE, the frequency is all the time, the dose is according to needs, and the duration is forever. The beauty of love is that there is no chance of overdosing, adverse drug-to-drug interaction and, fortunately, there are never any allergies.