Dr No's Editor's Choice

A selection of Dr No's posts, ordered by number of page views. Older posts tend to have more weight because they have been around longer, and so have more time to gain page views.

Re-order by date (latest first), number of comments (desc), no particular order (random) or return to order by page views.



Frankie Goes to Holloway

The trouble with love is that it can cover a multitude of sins.

No doubt a number of the catholic priests who abuse little boys believe they have ‘love in their heart’. Those that do not have cynically used the love of the Mother Church to mask their obscene acts. Where better for those with sin in their heart to hide than under the cloak of the priesthood?

And as in priesthood, so in parenthood. Not all parents will have the best interests of their children at heart. Some will be misguided, others more sinister in their intent. And what better mask for such a parent than a plea of ‘love in the heart’?

The Ultimate Quack Remedy

Top Prize in the recent busting homeopathy stakes undoubtedly goes to Simon Singh for his wonderfully effective puncturing and deflating of the pompous David Tredinnick MP on the Today programme. Tredders was wind-bagging on about how they do homeopathy better in France, but he hadn’t bargained on Singh doing his homework. The best selling homeopathic remedy in France, said Singh, is a ’flu remedy made from the mashed up entrails of a single Muscovy duck that generates a staggering $15 million of revenue. It was, said Singh brilliantly, ‘the ultimate quack remedy’. Tredders had more than his wings clipped: he was permanently grounded; while Humph was reduced to muttering something about getting his hands on ‘that duck’.

Ain’t Turning No Machine Off

“I ain’t turning no machine off” said Kelly, as if she was a teenager talking about shutting down her Playstation. In fact, she was a mother talking about turning off the life support for her very premature baby.

And so it was that last night's BBC2 documentary 23 Week Babies: the Price of Life exposed one of the central dilemmas at the heart of the medical and ethical minefield that is whether to resuscitate very premature babies. Kelly was clearly up for not turning no machines off. Whether she was up for understanding, let alone navigating, the medico-moral minefield was another matter altogether. She hadn’t even in fact been asked to turn no machine off, only what her views were on aggressive resuscitation should her baby take a turn for the worst. The program’s presenter, Adam Wishart – a thoughtful cove whose brief onscreen appearances featured averted eyes, even if the eyes of his cameras probed mercilessly – asked: is it right to place such a burden of responsibility on the parents?

GP Who Wants To Be A Commissionaire?

Chris Tarrant (to camera): Welcome back to GP Who Wants To Be A Commissionaire? – our new show in which your GP competes to see how big a budget he or she can win with which to buy your healthcare. In the chair tonight is Professor Stevie Paddock, hot from the Royal College.

(audience cheers from the RCGP camp; Tarrant turns to Paddock)

Tarrant: How are you feeling, Stevie?

(music swells as camera zooms in to Paddock who looks hot and sweaty)

Tarrant: Take your time, Stevie, before answering.

Snuffed Goose Recipe

We shall probably never know whether Ray Gosling was an inspired stage name, or the portentous real name for a lad who, after a TV life rich in sauce and stuffing, would spend much of his later life stuffed and trussed, before – in a final defiant gesture – spatchcocking himself on camera in a lonely graveyard.

Last Monday, early evening BBC viewers in the East Midlands region were greeted by Gosling, decked out in a fetching overcoat, ambling through the tombstones. Speaking in his best bus driver documentary voice, he mused: ‘Maybe this is the time to share a secret that I’ve kept for quite a long time’. Viewers expecting a homely confession that he rigged a past documentary were in for a shock.

The Lies of Others

Twenty five years ago, the General Medical Council’s Annual Retention Fee for doctors to remain on the Medical Register was £20, and the “Blue Book” – the Council’s code of professional conduct for doctors – ran to some thirty pages. Today, the same fee is £410, and the code, which is now issued in several volumes, runs to hundreds of pages.

Tick Box Medicine

Dr No’s mother, a fit 80-something year old, recently attended an ophthalmology clinic, on the advice of her optician, and was told – out of the blue, by a nurse – she hadn’t even seen a doctor - that a bed had been arranged for her to come in two days later to have her cataract removed. The nurse was most put out when Dr No’s mother – who knows her mind very well – said she had no intention of coming in for an operation she neither knew about, nor did she need. Yes, she does wear reading glasses – but otherwise her eyesight is fine.

The Oxygen of Morality

Kerrie Wooltorton is dead. But she isn’t going to go away. Her sad suicide, and the aiding and abetting of that suicide by her doctors, have opened a door to a cesspit of legal incompetence and medical Eichmannship.

For those who have been frying fish for the last few days, KW was a woman with both depression and emotionally unstable personality disorder who wanted to kill herself. That’s what she said, anyway.

Lest We Forget: A Poppy for the NHS

Dr No observes Remembrance. Last Friday, the day before yesterday, at the eleventh hour on the eleventh day of the eleventh month, and this time as it happens of the eleventh year of the century, he fell silent and still for two minutes, and remembered those who have given their lives for the freedom we enjoy today. It is a moment of solemn awe for the sacrifice made, and of great humility in the face of such selflessness.

Remembrance was made that bit more poignant this year by the breaking news that Circle Health had signed the long foretold contract to run Hinchingbrooke Hospital. This contract is a clear challenge to the authority, competence and perhaps most of all to the values of the NHS; a challenge which, if not seen off, will in short order threaten the very life of the NHS.

Medical Unemployment

The Daily Hail may constantly portray doctors, especially GPs, as lazy golfing fat-cats, and no doubt more than are few are, but there are other corners in the medical universe that are not so cosy, corners closer to the dark side of the moon than the sunny terrace of the nineteenth hole; and one of those corners is that of medical unemployment: doctors who are in a position to work, but for some reason cannot find work.

To those outside the profession, medical unemployment is inexplicable, bizarre, even disturbing and unsettling. Doctors are both committed and driven individuals, trained to the highest standards (at considerable tax-payers expense, some would add), with a ticket to work in a rewarding – both personally and financially – profession. And we are, so the story goes, always short of doctors. How, possibly, could medical unemployment be a reality?