Arthur Hailey - Strong Medicine

Only Ingram had the seniority, and knew Celia well enough, to laugh aloud. Bladen hesitated, then a slow grin crossed his face.”Mrs. Jordan, I think what you've suggested is nothing short of brilliant.”

Celia said tartly, "Just because I'm the client doesn't make it brilliant. It's simply sensible.”

After the briefest further discussion, it was agreed that the product name of Peptide 7 would be Peptide 7.

A year flew by. Clinical trials of Peptide 7, moving much faster than anyone expected, had proved outstandingly successful in Britain and the United States. Older patients responded positively to the drug. No adverse side effects appeared. Now, all accumulated data had been sent to the Committee on the Safety of Medicines in London, and to the FDA in Washington. After careful discussions both at Harlow and in Boonton, involving Martin Peat-Smith, Vincent Lord, Celia and others, it was decided not to seek an official "indication" of the antiobesity effect of Peptide 7. This meant that while the known weight-reducing effect of the drug would be disclosed in information given to physicians, Peptide 7 would not be recommended for that use. Some doctors, it was realized, might prescribe it for that purpose. However, if they did it would be the doctors' own responsibility, not Felding-Roth's. As to a sexual stimulant effect, while repeated tests on animals showed that such an effect existed, it had not been sought during human testing, and was listed as inconspicuously as possible in all submitted data. In both cases the thinking continued to be: Peptide 7 was a serious drug, intended to retard mental aging. Any "frivolous" uses would detract from this important role and diminish the drug's reputation. In view of the flawless results from clinical testing, and the fact that extra indications were not sought, it appeared unlikely that official approval of Peptide 7 would be long delayed. Meanwhile, work on the Irish plant and changes at Puerto Rico were near completion. At Harlow, Martin, while keenly interested in the outcome of clinical trials, had left the details to the medical staff. He was working on modifying Peptide 7, exploring the possibilities of making other brain peptides, a spectrum which the earlier success had opened. Martin and Yvonne were still living together. In January 1980, Yvonne had taken her A level examinations and, to her own and Martin's great joy, passed with A's in all subjects. She had also taken, and passed, the Cambridge Colleges' Examination, this because she had applied to Lucy Cavendish College in that university, and been accepted, subject to exam results. The admissions prospectus had pleased Yvonne with its reference to a "society for women, with a particular concern for those whose studies have been postponed or interrupted.”

In September, having resigned from Felding-Roth, she began attending Lucy Cavendish where she would read Veterinary Medicine. It was now October and she had become accustomed to driving daily to and from her Cambridge classes, an hour's journey. Apart from her studies, a source of pleasure to Yvonne was the blossoming royal romance between the Prince of Wales and "Lady Di," as all of Britain now called her. Yvonne tirelessly discussed the subject with Martin.”I said all along that if he waited, he'd find an English rose," she declared.”And so he has.”

Martin continued to listen to Yvonne's gossipy news, which now included the Cambridge University scene, with affectionate amusement.

During January of the following year, as President Reagan was inaugurated four thousand miles away, a license to market Peptide 7 in Britain was granted by the Minister of Health. Two months later, approval for United States use of the drug was announced by FDA. Canada, as it often did, followed the FDA lead. In Britain, the drug was scheduled to go on sale in April, in the United States and Canada in June. But in March--before its marketing anywhere-an event occurred that confirmed earlier fears and placed in jeopardy, it seemed, the entire future of Peptide 7. It began with a telephone call to Felding-Roth's Harlow institute from a London newspaper, the Daily Mail. A reporter making the call sought to speak with Dr. Peat-Smith or Dr. Sastri. When informed that neither was available that morning, he left a message which a secretary typed out and placed on Martin's desk. It read:

The Mail has learned you are about to unveil a miracle drug which will rejuvenate people sexually, cause them to lose weight, and make the middle-aged and old feel young again. We will have a story in tomorrow's paper and would like a statement from your company as soon as possible today.

When Martin read the message it was a half hour before noon, and he reacted with shock and fear. Was some damn newspaper, concerned only with printing a sensational one-day story, about to lay in ruins all his work and dreams? His immediate impulse was to telephone Celia, and he did-at home. In Morristown it was 6:30 A.m., and she was in the shower. Martin waited impatiently while she dried and put on a robe. At the sound of Celia's voice, he relayed what had happened and read out the reporter's message. His tone conveyed his anguish. Celia was concerned and sympathetic, but also practical. "So the Peptide 7 sex thing is out in the open. I always thought it would happen.”

"Can we do anything to stop it?"

"Obviously not. The report has a basis of truth, so we can't deny it totally. Besides, no newspaper will give up that kind of story, once they have it.”

Martin, sounding unusually helpless, asked, "So what shall I do here?" She told him, "Call the reporter back and answer questions honestly, though be as brief as possible. Be sure to emphasize that the sexual results have been observed in animals only, which is a reason we are not recommending the drug for sexual use by humans. The same applies to use for weight loss.”

Celia added, "Maybe, that way, they'll run a short item which won't get much notice anywhere else.”

Martin said gloomily, "I doubt it.”

"So do 1. But try.”

Three days after Martin's call, Julian Hammond reported to Celia with a summary of media attention to Peptide 7. The public affairs vice president began, "It's as if that first British news story opened a floodgate.”

The Daily Mail had headed its report:

SCIENTIFIC BREAKTHROUGH Soon!-A New Miracle Medicine To Make You Sexy, Younger and Slim

What followed played up the acknowledged sexual effect of Peptide 7, but glossed over the fact that, so far, it had been officially recorded in animals only. The word "aphrodisiac," which Martin and others at Felding-Roth had dreaded, was used several times. Even worse, from the company's point of view, the newspaper had somehow learned about Mickey Yates and interviewed him. A photograph headed, "Thank you, Peptide 7!" showed the elderly Yates beaming after boasting of his revived sexual powers. Beside him, his wife, smiling demurely, had confirmed her husband's claim. Something else in the news report, not known previously by Felding-Roth officials,-was that several others among the Harlow Peptide 7 volunteers had experienced unusual sexual stimulus. They, too, were named and quoted. Celia's dim hope that the story might be confined to one newspaper proved merely a hope, and nothing more. Not only was the Mail's story picked up by the remainder of the British press and television, all wire news services flashed it overseas. In the United States, instant interest was aroused, with Peptide Ts sexual and anti-obesity effects being mentioned in most newspapers and discussed on TV.

From the moment the story broke in the United States, Felding-Roth's switchboard was swamped with calls from press, radio and TV seeking details about Peptide Ts release. Though reluctant to respond to what was felt to be a wave of harmful sensationalism, the information was given. There was no alternative. Few callers inquired about the true, anti-mental-aging purpose of the drug. Following the tide of media calls came a second one: questions from the public. Most concerned only the drug's sexual or weight loss properties, and callers were read a short statement to the effect that Peptide 7 was not recommended for such uses. Phone operators reported that the answer did not appear to satisfy. Some calls were obviously from cranks. Other callers were sexually explicit or obscene. As Bill Ingram commented, "Suddenly, everything we so carefully planned has been turned into a sideshow.” It was this circus effect that most worried Celia. Would doctors, she wondered, not wanting to be associated with something which already appeared disreputable, decide not to prescribe Peptide 7 at all? She consulted Andrew, who confirmed her fears.”I'm sorry to have to say this, but quite a few physicians will feel that way. Unfortunately, all the publicity suggests that Peptide 7 is in the same league with laetrile, ouzo and Spanish fly.”