Recreational drugs have mutated from mood-enhancing to bladder-destroying. And no one seems to care
Walking across campus, I spot someone I know: he's standing alone in pyjama bottoms, a can of cider in his hand. We exchange pleasantries. I discover my fellow student hasn't slept all night – he spent it at home smoking crack.
There's little doubt that a disconcerting new line has been crossed by students out "getting messy". For example, a mate who awoke from his ketamised slumber to discover he had soiled himself in his bed. Or the friend coughed up blood after bombing (ingesting) too much of a "mystery" powder. Or the guy we knew who managed to have a heart attack at 25 after snorting five grams of coke.
I am a strong supporter of Prof David Nutt's view that alcohol is more dangerous than most recreational drugs. My concern is not that people are taking drugs, but that students appear to be losing all sense of what is recreational and reversible, and what is downright dangerous.
