Professor Gillian Needham and Hemlock. Les Liaisons Dangereuses

Seduction is the Ultimate Game

Today, we all decided to xray Professor Gillian Needham's past. For all those who have missed it, she was responsible for suspending a junior doctor for the heinous crime of calling Dame Carol Black a shitbag [ or words to that effect]. To analyse Needham's past, we need some sharp contrast. We then needed to send her material for MRI imaging. The results were the posts described here by Witchdoctor.

Professor Needham's love affair with Hemlock was described here , here and here . Of course, while the boys don't read Hello magazine, I do :) :).

The curious discovery today was the fact that Professor Needham and David G Currie a famous neurosurgeon apparently live in the same house. This puzzled my fevered brain. My brain alas has suffered, what with strange Scottish men accelerating my poor oestrogens and JD decelerating my progesterones, I have no idea whats happening in the world. Day 3 of my flu and alas not even a word of sympathy from the surgeons at Raigmore Hospital. No one has offered to wipe my brow with a NHS gauze.

We do though know a man who walks in the Highland Hills and watches the stars with Gillian Needham then promptly shares a piece of hemlock. They appear to share the same house as well as the same piece of Hemlock. Well, perhaps the fact she is director of the MDDUS in Scotland gives her addictional protection.

Electoral Records showing Needham and Currie at the same house.

This puzzled me completely until a hero dressed in a kilt flew past me. His kilt was aflap in the Highland wind and his rugged good looks and persona exuded the Scottish charm not found in English men :) The truth of that is that we all need heroes in the end - even me! So what did this rugged Scotsman have to say today, he told me of the Telegraph article that was rather fascinating. It was interesting because I wanted to know which lucky lady had bagged hunky neurosurgeon David G Currie and dragged him down to the alter many years ago. It is amazing what promises are made at times of perfection.

The article states

"His wife, Esther, and daughters xxxx and xxxxxx, said in a statement yesterday:

"We were tremendously shocked when we heard. We are delighted by the improvement in his condition over the last 24 hours."

So we conclude that Gillian Needham is not David Currie's wife. Esther Currie apparently lives in Aberdeen and David Currie is not on the electoral roll with her. Perhaps I have the facts all wrong and am happy to be corrected.

I once spoke to John Hemming MP's mistress. The lovely Emily Cox showed me this website. People are often fascinating, love is often unexpected and compromises in society are the sacrifices that are made. It did make me realise that no one is perfect. We are all flawed people simply trying to live up to society's expectations.

Gillian Needham has high expectations of her juniors when she is far from perfect. She currently punishes one particular junior because she expects perfection. Those who live in glass houses should not throw stones.

So, to complete this post, I have decided to dedicate the second of the love poems to one of my anonymous emailers. The flying scotsman who certainly made me smile for the last 48 hours during my time of illness, viral replication and fever. Perhaps it was the Flying Scotsman who raised my temperature, who knows! So this is to thank him for his wit, his charm and his intellect that is so rare in this world of vacant men :). He will of course disappear as all charming Scottish men do - away in the mist, never to be seen again. and I shall miss him. Gillian may have another use for the poetry below. I believe this poem won something at Faber and Faber locally. I probably didn't turn up to the presentation as always.

IF ONLY


If only the world shut down
So I may sink into your eyes.
If only the clocks stopped
To lock my hand in yours.
If only the rainbows escaped
To run to catch your smile,
So I may capture its beauty
When tears drown my mind.

If only I possessed the secrets
Of medieval mysteries and Camelot passions,
So I may purchase the magical key
To your wizard-like thoughts.
If only you could step from my dreams
And walk with my worlds,
To trap me in rhapsodies of seductive charms.

If only I could secretly be yours,
Today, tomorrow, for always.