The Girl Who Was Not Heard When She Cried Wolf
Crusoe was called to see Lisbeth. The girl – young woman was mute and catatonic by day but after she fell asleep she had nightmares when she wailed piteously, rent her nightdress, walked in her sleep muttering ‘the children, the children’ or other such phrases. It was a similar pattern each night, the parents said. The dreams seemed to repeat.
Crusoe came in the evening when the room was dark except for a scented candle flickering in the corner. Lisbeth lay on her bed, one arm stretched out over the side. Crusoe pulled up a chair beside her. The parents hovered anxiously in the background.
To sleep perchance to dream
After she had been there for nearly an hour, the girl began to stir. She sat up and screamed, clutching her shoulders, looking at the place where her arms should be. Then her face grimaced and neck bent as though she had a severe pain in her chest. She jumped as if she had been cracked with a whip and felt for her Achilles’ tendons on either side.
She got up and walked to the bathroom. She bent down and stared at the rug for what seemed like an age. She came back and picking up a limp cloth doll from a bookshelf on the way placed it on her bed, knelt down beside the bed and began apparently sawing at where the doll’s breastbone might have been, after which she made to pull open the chest cavity as if to work on the heart inside.
Inception
When she finished this, Crusoe intervened, helped her back into bed, and moved closer. The girl was having waking dreams. Crusoe must some how have slipped into this one. Suddenly Lisbeth began talking: Dr. Crusoe, Dr. Crusoe it’s terrible, terrible. I see children born without arms or legs. I try to tell someone what is happening but no-one listens.
I went to a door marked FDA and someone looked out but couldn’t see me.
I thought it might be better in England and went to one marked MHRA. This had names on the door – Sir this and Sir that. I thought Knights of the Round Table, ah good! But, they said, you think this drug has caused children to be born with shortened arms or legs, how do you know that the drug didn’t just prevent spontaneous miscarriages so that these children who would never have been born are now born?
I told them I thought the pain in my chest must be linked to the Plavix I was taking– it came every time I tried to stop it. They said, they couldn’t be certain that I wasn’t aspirin resistant. When my tendons snapped, the pain was excruciating – I was certain it was the Cipro I was on but they stared at me blankly – don’t be silly an antibiotic couldn’t do that.
I told them I had seen Matt Miller, in his bright orange football gear, 13 years old. I can see him now – over there. I saw him put on Zoloft by his doctor when he was anxious in a new school. I followed him a week later when he went into the bathroom between his bedroom and his parents’ room and hung himself there. Are you sure they smirked that this wasn’t auto-erotic asphyxiation? You know what little boys are like! Perhaps he accidentally went too far. I watched a person from Pfizer check the carpet for seminal stains, she said, looking at Crusoe. I went and looked, but there were none there.
There are too many babies needing heart repairs, I can’t keep up, she said, and who is going to help all those children queuing up outside who have autism and learning disabilities.
When I was in America I picked up the phone and tried calling GSK, using the phone numbers on their adverts. Many of the numbers didn’t work. On others I got put through to a call centre, not a doctor. They told me not to tell them anything but to send my report to the FDA instead. This sounded good but when it got there, I saw FDA filed some reports and binned others.
There used to be a picture of the Pied Piper in my Grimm’s book of fairy tales years ago taking the children away. I can’t see him now but I can hear the tune that is leading women to take antidepressants just before they get pregnant. It goes round and round in my head. Can’t anyone stop it?
Can anyone hear me?
Can’t they see that when things go wrong, the AMA, and RCP, and ICP will line up to tell you it was your illness that caused the problem?
I see an endless line of mothers knock on doors. I see them in England where they get sent from the DoH to the GMC to the RCP, to MHRA to NICE. The Department of Health say it’s the General Medical Council’s job, who say it’s the Royal Colleges job, who say it’s the regulator who say it’s the people who make the guidelines, who say it’s the Department of Health. You’d have thought the Royals might have done something.
I see them in America where they get sent from the HHS, to the FDA to the IOM, to the AMA but the same message everywhere – “not us, lady”.
FBI, CIA, IRA, EMA, MI6, KGB – can anyone hear me?
Who dares wins
Lisbeth dreamt Crusoe held her and whispered: “When you wake, you and I will go to England to see the SAS. They don’t have them in America, but if they did I suppose they’d be called SEALs”.
SAS – Short-Arm-Squad
SEALs – thalidomide caused phocomelia – seal-like limbs
FDA – Food and Drugs Administration
MHRA – Medical and Healthcare Products Regulatory Agency
NICE – National Institute for Healthcare and Clinical Excellence
AMA – American Medical Association
RCP – Royal College of Physicians
ICP – Irish College of Psychiatrists
HHS – Health and Human Services
IOM – Institute of Medicine
EMA – European Medicines’ Agency
IRA – Irish Republican Army
SAS to Lisbeth
From Louise.Medus@yahoo.co.uk
I dreamt I saw Joe Hill last night,
Alive as you or me
Says I, “But Joe, you’re ten years dead,”
“I never died”, says he
“I never died”, says he“In Salt Lake City”, Joe, says I
Him standing by my bed,
“They claimed you died from your disease
Says Joe, “I didn’t die”
Says Joe, “I didn’t die”“The pharma bosses killed you, Joe
They pumped you full of drugs”,
“Takes more than drugs to kill a man”
Says Joe, “And I ain’t dead
Says Joe, “And I ain’t deadAnd standing there as big as life
And smiling with his eyes
Joe says, “What they forgot to kill
Went on to organize
Went on to organize”
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[…] Revisiting Luke Fildes painting, the Doctor, with a ghost of Matt Miller, who at 13 year was fatally medicated with Zoloft, while the voodoo from a MHRA/FDA continues to confound our doctors. Read Dr David Healy‘s metaphorical story about the state of modern medicine: The girl who was not heard when she cried wolf […]