NHS doping scandal: they were all at it
The world of professional doctoring has been rocked to its foundations by news that clinicians have been routinely giving performance-enhancing drugs to patients.
While doping has become commonplace in other sports including cycling and athletics, doctoring has enjoyed an untarnished reputation until now.
As further revelations about fallen hero Sir Lancelot Spratt continue to emerge, the scale of the scandal is becoming apparent.
Sir Lancelot is said to have bullied reluctant members of his team into using drugs to “enhance the recovery rates” of patients claiming that it would make them “get better”.
Almost all the patients interviewed at one hospital admitted having been given drugs either by doctors themselves or by nurses acting on their instructions.
“In the ward I was on, everyone was doing it. It was considered normal,” said one. “A nurse would say ‘Come on, just take this. We’ll soon have you back on your feet’.”
“Drugs would be handed out from trolleys. It was completely blatant – they didn’t even try to hide it.”
Another patient told how Spratt and his team put pressure on reluctant victims to “medicate”.
“We weren’t given a choice. Anyone who made a fuss was told that it would be ‘bad for them’ if they didn’t co-operate.”
Behind the scenes, doctors were routinely aided and abetted by teams of pharmacists and found no shortage of organisations willing to supply them with controlled substances.
“Practically the whole of the pharmaceutical industry is in on it. Billions of pounds were riding on Spratt and his team,” said an insider.
If Spratt’s legendary performances always appeared too good to be true, it now appears that they were.
Said a former colleague: “Sir Lance wore the yellow waistcoat year after year because there wasn’t a consultant on Earth who could keep up with him on a gruelling ward round. He also won numerous awards for his brilliant work curing the sick.
“We now know that he couldn’t have done it without the drugs.”
Spratt denied wrongdoing until the end. In a now infamous interview he boasted: “People always want to know what I’m on. I’m on the ward for a couple of hours a day and in private practice the rest of the time.”
In this time of uncertainty and change I find it quite astounding that the editor cannot focus more seriously on the stuff that we're all worried about. I had fully intended to not enjoy any part of this morning, and hoped others would feel the same. However, to my very deep dissatisfaction, I distinctly heard a few chuckles and have found some colleagues in a slightly better mood as a result of this annoying attempt at levity.
The mere fact that there are 26 serious articles after your blog does not detract from the fact that some of us haven't got a sense of humour, and hate to be reminded of the fact.
Yours surlyly. etc.