Strong Medicine (7 page)

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Authors: Arthur Hailey

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claimed or promised. All they wanted was sales. They'd guarantee any

result to get them."

Often, Celia went on, such nostrums and folk remedies were marketed by

families. It was some of the same families who opened early drugstores.

Later still, their descendants continued the family tradition and built

drug manufacturing firms which, as years went by, became big, scientific

and respectable. As it all happened, the crude early selling methods

changed and became more respectable too.

"But sometimes not respectable enough. One reason was that family control

persisted, and the old snake-oil, hard-sell tradition was in the blood."

"Surely," Andrew observed, "there can't be many families left that

control big drug companies."

41

 

"Not many, though some of the original families control large blocks of

stock. But what has persisted, even with paid executives running the

companies, is the out-of-date, less-than-ethical hard sell. Much of it

happens when some detail men call on doctors to tell them about new

drugs."

Celia continued, "As you know, some detail men-not all, but still too

many-will say anything, even lie, to get doctors to prescribe the drugs

they're selling. And although drug companies will tell you officially

they don't condone it, they know it goes on."

They were interrupted by a stewardess announcing they would land in New

York in forty minutes, the bar would be closed soon, and meanwhile would

they like drinks? Celia ordered her favorite, a daiquiri, Andrew scotch

and soda.

When the drinks were served and they had settled down again Andrew said,

"Sure, I've seen examples of what you were talking about. Also I've heard

stories from other doctors-about patients being ill or even dying after

taking drugs, all because detail men gave false information which the

doctors believed." He sipped his scotch, then went on, "Then there's drug

company advertising. Doctors are deluged with it, but a lot of the

advertising doesn't tell a physician what he ought to know--especially

about side effects of drugs, including dangerous ones. The thing is, when

you're busy, with patients to see and a lot of other problems on your

mind, it's hard to believe that someone from a drug company, or the com-

pany itself, is deliberately deceiving you."

"But it happens," Celia said. "And afterward it's swept under the rug and

nobody will talk about it. I know, because I've tried to talk about it

at Felding-Roth."

"So what's your plan?"

"To build a record. A record no one can argue with. Then, at the proper

time, I'll use it."

She went on to explain.

"I won't be calling on you any more, Andrew; that's company policy, so

someone else from Felding-Roth will be covering your office and Dr.

Townsend's. But whenever you have a detail manor woman-visit you, from

our company or any other, and you discover you're being given wrong

information, or not warned about side effects of a drug or anything else

you should be told, I want you to write a report and give it to me. I

have some other doctors doing the same thing, doctors who trust me, in

Nebraska as well as New Jersey, and my file is getting thick."

42

 

Andrew whistled softly. "You're taking on something pretty big. Also some

risks."

"Someone has to take risks if it's. to improve a bad situation. And I'm not

afraid."

"No," he said, "I don't believe you ever would be."

"I'll tell you something, Andrew. If the big drug companies don't clean

house themselves, and soon, I believe the government will do it for them.

There are rumblings in Congress now. If the drug industry waits for

congressional hearings, and then new laws with tough restrictions, they'll

wish they'd acted first on their own."

Andrew was silent, absorbing what he had just learned and mulling other

thoughts. At length he said, "I haven't asked you this before, Celia, but

maybe now is a good time for me to understand something about you."

His wife's eyes were fixed on him, her expression serious. Andrew chose his

words carefully.

"You've talked about having a career, which is fine by me, and I'm sure you

wouldn't be happy without it. But I've had the impression, while we've been

together these past weeks, that you want more out of a career than what

you're doing now-being a saleswoman."

Celia said quietly. "Yes, I do. I'm going to the top."

"Right to the top?" Andrew was startled. "You mean head up a big drug

company?"

"If I can. And even if I don't get all the way to the top, I intend to be

close enough to have real influence and power."

He said doubtfully, "And that's what you want? Power?"

"I know what you're thinking, Andrew-that power can be obsessive and

corrupting. I don't intend to let it be either. I simply want a full life,

with marriage and children, but also something more, some solid

achievement."

"That day in the cafeteria . . ." Andrew stopped, correcting himself. "That

memorable day. You said it was time for women to do things they haven't

done before. Well, I believe that too; it's already happening in a lot of

places, including medicine. But I wonder about your

industry-pharmaceuticals. That whole business is conservative and

male-oriented-you've said so yourself."

Celia smiled. "Horribly so."

"Then is it ready yet-for someone like you? The reason I'm asking, Celia,

is that I don't want to watch, and see you hurt or

43

 

unhappy, while you throw everything into the effort and then maybe it

doesn't work out."

"I won't be unhappy. I'll promise you that." She squeezed Andrew's arm.

"It's new for me to have someone care as much as you do, darling, and I

like it. And as for your question-no, the industry isn't ready yet, for me

or any other women with strong ambition. But I have a plan."

"I should have known you'd have it all figured out."

"First," Celia told him, "I intend to make myself so good at my job that

Felding-Roth will discover they can't afford not to promote me.,,

"I'd bet on that. But you said 'first.' Isn't that enough?"

Celia shook her head. "I've studied other companies, their histories, the

people who run them, and discovered one thing. Most of those who make it to

the top get there on someone else's coattails. Oh, don't misunderstand

me-they have to work hard, and be excellent. But early on they select some

individual-a little higher up, usually a bit older-who they believe is en

route to the top ahead of them. Then they make themselves useful to that

person, give him their loyalty, and follow along behind. The point is: when

a senior executive gets promoted, he likes someone he's used to, who is

capable and whom he can trust, coming up behind."

"At this point," Andrew asked, "have you picked someone to follow?"

"I decided some time ago," Celia said. "It's Sam Hawthorne."

"Well, well!" Her husband raised his eyebrows. "One way or another, Sam

seems to loom large in our lives."

"In business matters only. So you've no need to be jealous."

"All right. But does Sam know about this decision-that you're hitching to

his star?"

"Of course not. Lilian Hawthorne does, though. We've discussed it

confidentially and Lilian approves."

"It seems to me," Andrew said, "there's been some womanly plotting going

on."

"And why not?" For a moment the inner steel 'of Celia flashed. "Someday all

that may not be needed. But right now the corporate business world is like

a private men's club. So a woman must use whatever means she can to become

a member and get ahead."

Andrew was silent, considering, then he said, "Until now I hadn't thought

about it a lot; I guess most men don't. But what you say makes sense. So

okay, Celia, while you're making your way to

44

 

the top-and I truly believe you just might-I'll be behind you, all the

way."

His wife leaned over in her seat and kissed him. "I knew that all along.

It's one of the reasons I married you."

They felt the airplane's engines moderate in tempo and the "Fasten Seat

Belts" sign came on. Through windows on the port side the lights

ofManhattan shimmered in early evening darkness. "In a few minutes," a

stewardess announced, "we will be landing at Idlewild International

Airport."

Again Celia reached for Andrew's hand.

"And we'll be starting our life together," she said. "How can we miss?"

5

On returning to their separate jobs, Andrew and Celia discovered they had

each, in differing ways, achieved celebrity status.

Like many important medical developments, the news about Andrew's

successful use of Lotromycin took time to circulate but now, some six

weeks after Mary Rowe's remarkable recovery, it had been picked up by the

national press.

Morristown's tiny Daily Record had carried the story first under a

heading:

Local Medic Uses Wonder Drug

Patient's "Miracle" Recovery

The Newark Star-Ledger, which clearly scanned the local papers in its

bailiwick, repeated the item which, in turn, came to the attention of

science writers at the New York Times and Time. When Andrew returned he

discovered that urgent phone messages had been left for him to call both

publications, which he did. Still more publicity resulted, with Time, the

more romantically inclined, adding to its report the fact of Andrew and

Celia's marriage.

As well as all this, the New England Journal of Medicine informed Andrew

that, subject to certain revisions, his article on

45

 

Lotromycin would be p.~blished in due course. The suggested revisions were

minor and Andrew agreed to them at once.

"I don't mind admitting I'm consumed with envy," Dr. Noah Townsend

observed when Andrew told him about the New England Journal. Then

Andrew's senior partner added, "But I console myself with the luster it's

already bringing to our practice."

Later, Townsend's wife Hilda, attractive in her early fifties, confided

to Andrew, "Noah won't tell you this, but he's so proud of you that

nowadays he's thinking of you like a son-the son we'd both have liked but

never had."

Celia, while receiving less personal publicity, found her status at

Felding-Roth changed in not-so-subtle ways.

Previously she had been an anachronism, to some a source of curiosity and

amusement-the firm's sole saleswoman who, despite an initial and

unexpected accomplishment in Nebraska, still had to prove herself over

the long term. Not any more. Her handling of Lotromycin, and the

continuing publicity which delighted FeldingRoth, had put both the drug

and Celia squarely on the road to success.

Within the company her name was now well known to top executives,

including Felding-Roth's president, Eli Camperdown, who sent for Celia

a day after her return to work.

Mr. Camperdown, a lanky, cadaverous industry veteran in his mid-sixties,

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