Page 26 - Big Pharma and the Constant Gardener

Our three-hour wait in the solarium was broken up by the neurology

department manager introducing herself as one of Mother’s

former second grade students. Mother and I both remembered
her, since I had visited Mother’s classroom whenever I was home

on college breaks. In addition, Mother had spoken about her as an

outstanding student as she was grading papers that year. I like to

think that, in spite of the circumstances which left me otherwise
without words, our conversation with her had passed a lucidity

test.

Impersonally spoken, demeaning, with no
compassion

Soon, three physicians came to speak with us, and we all stood

together in the center of the busy solarium. One was a resident and

one was from the practice of which Dad’s neurologist was a member.

The resident said, in the presence of my father, “We pumped him
full of Depakote.” Impersonally spoken, very demeaning and with

no compassion, the resident’s words might have been about an

inanimate object rather than about Dad.

After that, the two physicians with him offered nothing further.

Had they spoken, I would remember! Had we been given discharge

papers to sign, we would have signed! Had we been provided a