Harold Shipman was known for spending a lot of time with the sick. But he took some of their lives.
The perfect family doctor. Appreciated everywhere in town. Respected by his colleagues. Loved by patients. And worshiped. One who always has a personal word for you. who takes time for you More than the customary, assembly line-like seven minutes. One who comes to your home early in the morning or after the practice closes. When you call him to an asthma attack or to a sudden birth in the bathroom. Or he pays you a surprise visit on a Sunday afternoon. To check on you
Derek Moore* (all names changed with *), whose family had been Harold Frederick Shipman’s patients for over 20 years, later said, “He just seemed to do all these extra things for you, unlike other doctors. For example, when my father died suddenly, it never occurred to me to call Shipman. But he came by that evening to see how I was and if there was anything he could do for me. I thought that was amazingly thoughtful and endearing.” Six years later, at Derek Moore’s mother’s funeral, the Moores asked that they refrain from donating flowers and instead donate the money to Shipman’s practice. As an expression of gratitude for his care. And her relief that Margaret Moore*, when she unexpectedly died at home at the healthy age of 81, had the doctor she had trusted with her in her final minutes.
When Shipman was arrested in September 1998 and Moore and his wife Bernice* read in the newspaper that their family doctor was suspected of murdering 20 of his patients, the otherwise level-headed elementary school teacher enraged the office and called the office: “These allegations have neither Hand or foot, you’re running a witch hunt!” Many patients felt like her. The walls of Shipman’s waiting room were covered with cards of her condolences and encouragement.