Abstract
The Americans call it ‘bullshit’, the Irish ‘blarney’, the English ‘the gab’, the Scots ‘patter’, the RCGP ‘drug Doctor’, but whatever it is it’s a type of magic. He was 62, dressed in a pin-striped suit, cufflinks, thick grey hair swept in a side parting, his stomach heaved at his shirt buttons; he smoked like a chimney, swore like a trooper, drank like a Glaswegian, knew nothing about and had no interest in knowing — modern medicine. He prescribed at will, used all the latest and most expensive medications, loved drug reps (it was mutual), and hated the BNF and NICE. Patients waited weeks to be …
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Schedule a callMore From: The British journal of general practice : the journal of the Royal College of General Practitioners
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