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“What do you really think of the supreme supervisor?”



“Remediation will now begin,” came a soft voice floating somewhere above his head.  

He was strapped so tightly into the chair that he’d lost the feeling in his thighs and his head was cruelly anchored into place.

“What do you really think of the supreme supervisor?”

His mind screamed against what he really wanted to say, he tried to lie but he couldn’t.

“I hate you,” he heard himself say, and then with an enormous effort, added, “you’ve robbed me of my life, all I do is collect evidence to satisfy you, and my evidence is never good enough.

“I hate you, we all hate you, don’t you understand? You think everything’s OK because no one dare say anything.”

A stinging serum was injected into his arm and the bonds tightened. He was shown secret footage of himself cutting corners and showing initiative. Voice recordings were played back and photographs were held up in his line of site. All showing him engaged in activities which didn’t accrue CPD points.

“You have been wasting your time,” whispered the voice. “You are not one of us.”

The oxygen of free thought was pumped out of the air chamber and, like any sadomasochistic relationship, he was expected not only to fear the supreme supervisor but to love him as well.

After hours of remediation the voice ripped through his head: “This is the way things are.”

“Yes,” he stammered, with thick lolling tongue, “this is the way things are.” And, broken down, exhausted, he added, “and this is the way they will always be.”

Dr Kevin Hinkley is a GP in Aberdeen