After seeing Michael Jackson's handwritten affirmations on his bedroom mirror and reading his children's message to him on a chalkboard in the kitchen, I am moved beyond words. I can no longer just write these articles as one who is not emotionally affected by this trial. I am angry.
That an anesthesiologist could be on tour with Michael administering propofol is both baffling and repugnant. The King of Pop was effectively anaesthetized every night, while our profession was asleep at the wheel.