BREAKING NEWS UK vaccine chiefs suspend newly approved jab for over 65s - reports of two deaths and 21 severe reactions
UK vaccine chiefs have suspended a newly approved jab for over 65s after reports of two deaths and 21 severe reactions.
The Chikungunya vaccine (IXCHIQ) has been temporarily paused in people aged 65 and over as a precautionary measure after two deaths.
It follows global reports of serious adverse effects in older people of 23 cases of serious adverse reaction, including two deaths.
The Chikungunya virus (CHIKV) is found in the subtropical regions of the Americas, Africa, Southeast Asia, India, and the Pacific Region.
It is spread to humans by the bite of an infected mosquito (Aedes aegypti and Aedes albopictus)—it cannot be passed from human to human.
The two deaths occurred in people aged 62 to 89 years of age who received the vaccine.
There are no changes in the recommendations for vaccination with IXCHIQ for people of 18 to 64 years of age.
A recent outbreak in La Reunion, an overseas department and region of France, saw over 47,500 people contract the virus, with 12 fatalities.
The majority of people infected with chikungunya develop a sudden fever and severe pain in multiple joints (arthralgia).
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Telegraph
44 minutes ago
- Telegraph
Just how psychopathic are surgeons?
These are the people we trust to hold a sharpened knife above our bare bellies and press down until they see blood. We let them tinker with our hearts, brains and bowels while we lie unconscious beneath their gloved hands. Surgeons live in a world of terrifying margins, where the difference of a millimetre can be the difference between life and death. That level of precision demands an extraordinary calm, or what you could also call a cold detachment. But what happens when that same self-possession curdles into something darker? In recent weeks, two surgeons have made headlines for all the wrong reasons. In France, Joël Le Scouarnec was sentenced for abusing hundreds of children – some while they lay anaesthetised in his care. In the UK, plastic surgeon Peter Brooks was convicted of the attempted murder of fellow consultant Graeme Perks, whom he stabbed after breaking into his home in Nottinghamshire. Today, Brooks was sentenced to life imprisonment with a minimum term of 22 years at Loughborough Courthouse. It would, of course, be absurd to taint an entire profession with the acts of two individuals. But it does resurface a long-standing, uncomfortable question: might the very traits that make a surgeon brilliant also mask something far more troubling? 'When people hear the word psychopath, they tend to think of serial killers and rapists,' says Dr Kevin Dutton, a psychologist and the author of The Wisdom of Psychopaths. 'But the truth is that certain psychopathic traits – focus, emotional dispassion, ruthlessness, self-confidence – can predispose you to success, and in an operating theatre, they really come to the fore.' Dutton has spent much of his career trying to prove that 'bad psychopaths' – people who have these characteristics but who can't regulate them – are the ones who commit crimes. A 'good psychopath', by contrast, is someone who can dial those qualities up and down at whim. He recalls one neurosurgeon who was regularly brought to tears by bits of classical music, but who also said, 'Emotion is entropy. I have hunted it to extinction over the years.' Similarly, a cardiothoracic surgeon told him that once a patient was under, he no longer saw them as a person – just a piece of meat. 'Once you care, you are walking an emotional tightrope,' says Dutton, 'but if you see the human body in front of you as a puzzle to solve, then you are more likely to save their life.' 'There's a ruthless part of me' Gabriel Weston, a London-based surgeon and the author of Direct Red: A Surgeon's Story, describes her profession as one that requires you to 'flick off a switch'. Sent to boarding school at a young age (much of British surgery is the product of elite schools), Weston learnt early how to detach emotionally – a skill she found served her well in the theatre. 'If you asked my family, they'd say I'm very emotional in that I cry in films or at art or literature,' she says. 'But there's a ruthless part of me. I use that in surgery – and in other parts of life where emotion just gets in the way.' Over time, Weston learnt to distinguish between two kinds of surgeons: those who switch their feelings back on once they leave the operating room, and those who never do. 'They don't just have psychopathic traits,' she says. 'They live in that space permanently.' They can also come with a reputation for being not just difficult, but dangerous. Harry Thompson*, a British abdominal surgeon, describes a world of towering egos and simmering aggression. 'If you think about it, all surgeons were in the top five of their class,' he says. 'They are all very competitive, and many play sports: they want to prove they are better than everyone. And if you are at the forefront of major surgery, you think you are invincible. It's a boiling-house environment of jealousy, envy and hatred.' He recalls one consultant who stabbed a plain-clothes policeman with a disposable scalpel after being stopped for speeding en route to the theatre. Another smashed a ward office clock when a nurse arrived five minutes late. Physical assaults were, he says, more common than you would think. 'I was in one operation when a student, John, was an hour and a half late, because he overslept. The surgeon thumped the student's head against the theatre wall until he was unconscious, screamed, 'Nobody move!' then started kicking him. No one ever saw John again.' Nor is the patient always spared. 'When I was training, I saw one surgeon thump a patient for removing a drain from his own bottom after an operation because it had become painful,' says Thompson. 'The patient only admitted this (in tears) after the surgeon had made the nurses and junior doctors line up and interrogated each one in turn about who had done it.' Thompson used to work with Simon Bramhall – the liver surgeon who made headlines and was later struck off for branding his initials onto patients' livers using a laser. 'Simon had always been a bit mad,' says Thompson. 'He was fascinated by the programme Randall and Hopkirk (Deceased) and he always wore a white suit [like the character Hopkirk], tie, shoes and socks.' As for tattooing his patients' organs: the initials were discovered by his colleagues only during a second surgery when his once-subtle etching was now grotesquely enlarged by liver damage. While Bramhall's actions sparked public outrage, some in the medical community were nonplussed. Perhaps because this is a far more commonplace occurrence than we realise: an article in Harper's Magazine cited examples of anonymous ophthalmic surgeons who had lasered their initials onto retinas, and orthopaedic surgeons who had etched theirs into bone cement. 'Why would you do that? Ego, of course,' says Dutton, 'and it isn't incidental in surgery. It's selected for. From the moment you start training, you have to fight – quite literally – for your space at the operating table.' 'I find it very freeing not to be pleasant' Dutton researched which of the various disciplines within the profession had the highest rates of psychopathy, and the results are revealing. Number one is neurosurgery (which is bad luck for any fans of Grey's Anatomy), followed by cardiothoracic or heart surgery and then orthopaedic. 'The last one is brutal as you have to smash people's bones,' says Dutton. 'Cardio more than anything is about life and death, but neurosurgery is particularly interesting to me. I think it's because this is the only branch of surgery where, if something goes wrong, you leave the patient permanently crippled or blinded or incapacitated, so only very few people can take such a calculated risk under pressure.' And though these traits are often seen as typically male, women are by no means exempt. Weston says the most difficult surgeon she ever worked under was a woman. 'She was very attractive and well-liked – mostly for being gorgeous and good at her job – but privately she made my life hell. Maybe she didn't like another woman being on the team but she did that horrible thing that women do of presenting this incredibly benign face while being very cruel in private. For months, she blamed me for mistakes that weren't mine, stole credit for my diagnoses, and made me feel like my surgical skills were terrible. She was truly villainous.' And yet, Weston admits, the operating theatre offers her a rare freedom: 'If you are a woman who is quite tough and unsentimental, surgery is a really amazing environment in which you can be yourself. There are many areas of my life – mainly motherhood, but also writing – where there is an expectation that I will be softer than I am. Like Simone de Beauvoir, I find it very freeing not to be pleasant.' Perhaps there is something in all of this (criminal and violent behaviour aside) that we, as patients, secretly find reassuring. We don't want our surgeons to hesitate. We don't want them to be emotional or anxious. We want them to be brilliant: laser-focused, supremely confident, even terrifying if that's what it takes to save us. In life, we dislike arrogance. On the operating table, many of us yearn for it. 'I had one boss,' says Thompson, 'a French surgeon. He used to say: 'There are the porters, the nurses, the managers – and then there are the surgeons. Above them, God. And above God? Me.''
Daily Mail
an hour ago
- Daily Mail
Terrifying hospital loophole that allows doctors to remove your organs while you're still ALIVE
As Anthony Thomas 'TJ' Hoover II was wheeled into surgery to harvest his organs, his eyes flitted back and forth and began to open. Despite doctors declaring the 36-year-old dead, Hoover's brain was becoming more and more active- and as he was taken into the Kentucky operating room, he began thrashing on the bed and crying, patient records show, and was very much alive. Doctors halted the surgery only after arguing with the team responsible for procuring Hoover's organs, who wanted to continue anyway. Hoover's case prompted a years-long federal investigation into Kentucky's organ donation procurement nonprofit, whose team reportedly scrambled to find a surgeon willing to harvest the organs of a living man when the first surgeon backed out. The federal Health Resources and Services Administration (HRSA) investigation delved into about 350 cases involving Kentucky Organ Donor Affiliates (KODA) in which plans for organ retrievals were ultimately scrapped because declared-dead patients began waking up. In 73 cases, federal investigators found organ harvesting should have been stopped sooner as patients showed improving consciousness and signs of pain or distress, according to the New York Times. While most patients are deemed eligible to donate organs after being declared brain dead, these patients had experienced circulatory death - when the heart stops functioning and blood and oxygen no longer circulate in the body. Opponents of donation after circulatory death (DCD) argue the practice has looser criteria for declaring someone dead, leading to the potential for someone who is not definitively dead being taken off of life-sustaining measures for premature donation. DCD has been steadily becoming more common over the years, and involves recovering organs after the heart stops, though some brain activity may remain. Traditionally, most organ donations come from patients declared brain dead, the complete and irreversible loss of all brain function - though patients may be hooked up to machines that keep the heart and lungs working. Because heart and lung function is maintained with machines, organs remain viable for transplant. With circulatory death, death is declared when circulation and respiratory function has stopped - even though they haven't been declared brain dead. When hospitals identify patients nearing death who might be eligible donors, they notify organ procurement organizations (OPOs) such as KODA. An OPO representative then visits the hospital to assess whether the patient shows signs of imminent brain death. If brain death is unlikely but the patient cannot survive without life support and the family is considering withdrawing care, the case may be appropriate for DCD. In these situations, the OPO works closely with the family and medical team to coordinate end-of-life plans and organ donation. DCD helps increase the number of available donors, offering hope to more than 103,000 Americans waiting for life-saving heart, kidney, lung, and other organ transplants. But the practice has proven to be an ethical minefield. While organ procurement organizations like KODA insist they do not harvest organs from live patients, federal officials and activists say Hoover's case was not a one-off. DCDs have become increasingly common as a way to meet the needs of a growing number of people on national waiting lists. The number of organs recovered from DCD Donors in 1993 was 112. By 2021, over 10,000 recovered organs came from DCD donors. The federal inquiry into Kentucky's organ procurement practices began last fall when the House Energy and Commerce Committee learned of Hoover's experience. Hoover was rushed to the hospital after a drug overdose in October 2024. He was unresponsive in the hospital. For two days after Hoover's family agreed to donate his organs, KODA officers tested the man's organs and lined up transplant surgeons and recipients. During one exam on his heart, Hoover was 'thrashing on the bed,' according to patient records, and was sedated to prevent further motion. His sister, Donna Rhorer, remembered watching him being wheeled to the operating room as his eyes moved and tracked where his sister was, keeping his gaze in her direction. She and the rest of the family were told this was a common reflex. 'It was like it was his way of letting us know, you know, "Hey, I'm still here,'' Rhorer told NPR. The hospital staff 'was extremely uncomfortable with the amount of reflexes patient is exhibiting,' case notes read. 'Hospital staff kept stating that this was euthanasia.' A procurement organization coordinator assured them it was not. A former KODA employee told the New York Times that had it not been for that doctor who called off the procedure, 'we absolutely 1,000 percent would have moved forward.' Natasha Miller, who used to work for KODA as an organ preservationist, told NPR last year that, at the time, the organ procurement case coordinator was scrambling with her boss about what to do next as Hoover thrashed and cried. Miller said: 'So the coordinator calls the supervisor at the time. And she was saying that he was telling her that she needed to 'find another doctor to do it' – that, 'We were going to do this case. She needs to find someone else.' 'And she's like, 'There is no one else.' She's crying — the coordinator — because she's getting yelled at.' Three other former KODA employees have attested to seeing similar cases. Patients are typically taken to the operating room, where doctors remove them from life support and wait for the natural dying process to wrap up. The organs are only transplantable if the patient dies within an hour or two. Strict rules are in place barring any procedure from beginning before a patient dies. But the HRSA investigation, as reported by the Times, shows that KODA employees repeatedly pressured families to green-light organ harvesting, improperly took over cases from doctors, and tried to push hospital staff to pull patients from life support even amid indications that patients were becoming more aware of their surroundings. KODA employees also failed to recognize that hospital-administered sedatives or illegal drugs could mask a patient's actual neurological condition, making them appear in worse shape than they are. In another case, in December 2022, a 50-year-old man who had suffered an overdose began stirring in his bed less than an hour after being removed from life support. He woke up and started looking around. The retrieval attempt was not immediately scrapped nor was the patient given any explanation as to what was going on, 'but was becoming more aware by the minute,' a doctor's notes said. The attempt wasn't called off for another 40 minutes, the point at which his organs were no longer viable. In the ICU, he was awake and speaking with his family, though the patient died three days later. KODA, now Network for Hope after a merger, said it 'is disappointed in the New York Times story that declines to include factual clarifications and critical context about organ and tissue donation. 'Network for Hope remains committed to transparency and to the mission of saving lives. That commitment has not changed. The only people hurt by inaccuracies in journalism are those who are awaiting a second chance for life. 'Network for Hope is in full compliance with all requirements of the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services (CMS). We are fully committed to transparency and accountability to their regulations regarding Donation after Circulatory Death (DCD) donation.'
The Guardian
2 hours ago
- The Guardian
The Guardian view on fitness: evidence of the benefits of exercise keeps growing, but who is listening?
The role of exercise in promoting good general health, and helping to prevent heart disease, strokes and diabetes is well established. No wonder, then, that long‑distance running keeps growing in popularity. Popular tracks and parks have never been busier, with groups in stretchy Lycra and fitness trackers on their wrists. The internet is awash with exercise videos, while figures earlier this year showed that gym memberships have climbed to a record 11.5m. The 16.9% of people aged 16 or over in Britain who belong to a gym is one of the highest proportions in Europe. The older teenagers and young adults of generation Z are a key demographic behind this social trend. And recent news from the world's biggest cancer conference, in Chicago, shows how right they are to take the health benefits of fitness seriously. A landmark trial compared the outcomes of patients in several countries who were placed on a programme of structured exercise – assisted by a personal trainer – with those offered standard health advice. The results showing that exercise could be as effective as drugs, without the side-effects, in preventing the recurrence of colon cancer, were described by Prof Sir Stephen Powis, the national medical director of NHS England, as 'really exciting'. The expectation is that the study will influence treatment guidelines worldwide – including in the increasingly fitness-conscious UK. But there is another narrative about exercise in Britain that is hard to reconcile with the one above. This is that we are a chronically unwell, overweight and sedentary population, whose health problems are only partly linked to the Europe-wide demographic challenge of ageing. These difficulties are widely recognised to be psychological as well as physical, with particular concerns around the worsening mental health of children and young people, which is widely linked to the rise in smartphone use. Which of these accounts of British fitness habits is more accurate depends which segment of the population is being scrutinised. Government figures show that the age gap – with 16- to 24-year-olds the most physically active age group – is not the only one. There is also a significant socioeconomic disparity. Students and adults in managerial and professional jobs are much more likely to keep active than manual workers or people who are long-term unemployed. As with other indicators of health, such as weight or smoking, there is a clear correlation with income. Richer people with more education and higher social status are more likely to be well. Could gen Z buck this trend with its more general embrace of fitness, which some point out is far cheaper than pub-going? It is too soon to be sure. Some young people believe their gym-going habits are as much about economic insecurity and status anxiety as they are about commitment to health. But as ministers finalise their 10-year plan for the NHS, which is expected to place a strong emphasis on prevention, they have an opportunity to build on, and shape, the way that exercise is offered and experienced. That being physically active is good for you is reinforced by the latest cancer study. But a preoccupation with personal appearance can be debilitating. A public health approach to exercise should seek to maximise the gains and minimise the harms associated with fitness culture.
