The revelation about the mass of prescription drugs that were pumped around Michael Jackson's body by his enabling doctor reminded me of a brief flirtation with the world of tranquillisers when I was living in New York. It was soon after 9/11, and having witnessed the terrorist attacks, I was jittery about a flight to LA. A friend suggested Xanax, one of the family of so-called benzodiazepine drugs that includes Valium, so off I went to my dishy doctor. Xanax was duly prescribed with a bedside manner ("Any questions or concerns?"). I discovered that the relaxing haze it induced was rather essential on all flights, anxiety or no anxiety. Fortunately, I was on a repeat prescription. No questions asked. As long as I had the $80 or thereabouts (insurance paid some, but by no means all, of the bill), the pills were mine.
Back in the UK, it was a different story. Contemplating the jet lag of an upcoming trip to Malaysia, I went to my GP to get sleeping pills. Once I'd convinced him I wasn't an addict (he barely looked up from his pad during this "conversation"), I left with a prescription for four pills. Four! I felt as I imagine my toddler feels when I won't allow her a second helping of ice cream.
Yet, in a way, the old-fashioned stuffiness that takes drugs like these seriously was reassuring. Prescription pill-popping has become fashionable in America - after all, why risk a brush with the law when you can get a legal high that is reliably pure without any dodgy dealing? The Wire may dramatise the story of the poor skulking on corners to score heroin for a few dollars, but for celebs and the aspirant middle-class mainstream with the financial means, the man in the white coat has become the pusher in chief.
One expat friend in New York got so hooked on Ambien (the sleeping pill of choice in the States), it wasn't until she returned to Blighty that she was able to go to bed without it. Most trends wend their way across the Atlantic, however bastardised they become on the way (just look at what we did to nail bars). The number of prescription drugs dispensed in the UK rose by 5.8% last year, that 1970s staple Valium is back in fashion and, in recent weeks, we have heard about the death of a talented young student who took a drug - GBL, used in nail-polish remover - that we didn't even know people were abusing. Yet experts at the Priory say it can take six months to get an addict off Valium, whereas heroin can take a measly 10 days. Yes, the NHS may be crusty and stuffy, but in this case (and there aren't many), substance is definitely better than style.