Hell, maybe I should quit arguing for expanded V.A. medical care for returning troops. They may well live longer without it:
Carl M. Steubing, a decorated Battle of the Bulge veteran whose experience of war made him a pacifist but also instilled in him a zest for living life at full tilt, took his diagnosis of gastroesophageal cancer in 2001 as a challenge.
With a thatch of white hair and a rich baritone voice, Mr. Steubing, at 78, was not ready to succumb to illness. A retired music educator and wedding photographer, he remained active as a church choir director, expert cook, painter, golfer and fisherman. He was married to a woman 24 years his junior, and they had seven children and three grandchildren between them.
Mr. Steubing jumped at the chance to participate in an experimental drug study at the Stratton Veterans Affairs Medical Center in Albany, believing it offered him the hope of surviving longer. The research coordinator, Paul H. Kornak, told Mr. Steubing that he was "just a perfect specimen," with the body of a man half his age, according to Jayne Steubing, Mr. Steubing's widow.
He was not, though. Because of a previous cancer and poor kidney function, Mr. Steubing was not even eligible to participate in the experiment, according to government documents. Mr. Kornak, however, brushed that obstacle aside. He altered Mr. Steubing's medical records, according to prosecutors, and enrolled him in the study. He also posed as a doctor.
In 2001, Mr. Steubing endured about six periodic treatments with an aggressive three-drug chemotherapy combination. Each infusion made him violently ill and forced his hospitalization. He died in March 2002.
"Research violations were a way of life at Stratton for 10 years," said Jeffrey Fudin, a pharmacist at the hospital. "Stratton officials turned a blind eye to unethical cancer research practices and punished those who spoke out against them. The whole Kornak episode could have been prevented."
According to Mr. Kornak's lawyer, E. Stewart Jones, there was a "clear systems failure," permitting a research culture where "rules weren't followed, protocols weren't applied and supervision was nonexistent."
It was also a culture whose descent into criminality forced the Department of Veterans Affairs nationwide to reckon with what an internal memorandum in 2003 described as "systemic weaknesses in the human research protections program, especially in studies funded by industry."
Excluding simple chart reviews, about 80 percent of the department's human research is financed by industry. The private sector pumps considerable cash into the system. In Albany, it accounted for $500,000 of the $1.15 million in research funding in 2004.
On second thought, I'll still argue in favor of massive government spending on V.A. healthcare, so as to keep industry money out of it...