From a ‘fun dad’ to a lifetime of questions
Maegan Clay’s memories of her father, Campbell McPhee, are a mix of early joy and growing doubt. She remembers a “daddy’s girl” who taught her to swim and ride a bike, a man who could light up a room with his sense of fun. Yet as Maegan grew older, those light moments dimmed. He became frequently ill, and Maegan began to suspect that his excuses for his absence hid something deeper. The relationship she cherished, built on weekly visits and a father’s reassurance, started to fracture as questions about his health persisted without answers.
The turning point: a radio revelation and a lifelong illness uncovered
In 2019, while listening to a radio program, Campbell heard someone describe their symptoms as a victim of the Infected Blood Scandal. For the first time, a name and a history connected to decades of unexplained illness. He remembered a Christmas Day in 1988 when he received a blood transfusion at Raigmore Hospital in Inverness following an accident. That moment would become the pivotal clue that explained years of pain and fatigue. Doctors had long suspected alcohol or cancer, but the truth lay in contaminated blood products that many NHS patients had received between 1970 and the early 1990s.
The silent killer that ravaged lives
Hepatitis C, the virus behind the scandal, often carries few early symptoms. Night sweats, brain fog, itchy skin, fatigue—red flags that many patients dismissed or misattributed. For every year a person carries the virus, the risk of liver cirrhosis and cancer rises. Campbell’s diagnosis finally came after decades of being treated for vague symptoms with little to no improvement. Maegan, now in her late 20s, recalls how her father’s illness changed not only his health but the family dynamic. He was angry about the delay in diagnosis; the emotional toll weighed heavily on both of them.
A family torn apart by illness and misunderstanding
Maegan acknowledges that the deterioration of their relationship was accelerated by grief and miscommunication. “I felt at the time he felt a little bit of shame too, he didn’t want anyone to know, just wanted to keep it to himself,” she explains. The father-daughter bond shifted from everyday closeness to a painful absence. Maegan says she internalized the absence as a personal slight, misplacing the blame on him rather than the systemic failures that defined their story.
The broader scandal: a system slow to respond, a community in pain
The Infected Blood Scandal involved tens of thousands of NHS patients who received contaminated transfusions or blood products, with infections including hepatitis C and HIV. The Langstaff Inquiry exposed long-standing failures—insufficient donor screening before 1991 and a pattern of cover-ups across government, civil service, and the NHS. In October 2024, the government allocated £11.8 billion for compensation through the Infected Blood Compensation Authority, aiming to acknowledge victims and provide restitution. Yet progress has been painfully slow, leaving many families waiting for recognition that may arrive too late for some.
A call for acknowledgement, not just compensation
For Maegan, the monetary aspect matters less than the apology, acknowledgment, and truth. “I want everyone to know what the NHS did to these people and my dad… not just the people who have been infected but their families and everybody that loves them because it has a ripple effect,” she says. The compensation scheme, while monumental in scale, has been criticized for its delays, raising concerns about justice delayed being justice denied for those who have suffered for decades.
Looking to the future: lessons learned and healing sought
Maegan’s story is a reminder of how medical failings ripple through families, redefining relationships and futures. She hopes increased transparency about the infected blood scandal will empower others to seek diagnosis, support, and voices in a system that must learn to listen. The human cost—of trust broken, of a father’s illness overlooked, of a daughter’s guilt and grief—remains the enduring legacy of a health crisis that no longer can be ignored.
