Families of patients treated at Royal Cornwall Hospital in Truro are raising serious questions after it emerged that a consultant surgeon who performed amputations had secretly removed his own legs as part of a fetish.
Neil Hopper was widely regarded as an inspirational figure in the medical world. He continued operating despite having lost both lower limbs, and many who encountered him assumed his disability was the result of illness or accident. What they did not know was that his injuries were entirely self-inflicted.
For the families of patients he treated, that revelation has been deeply unsettling.
Faye Harrison’s mother, 72-year-old Liz Spooner, underwent a leg amputation at the Truro hospital in 2022. The surgery ran longer than expected, and Liz came round from the anaesthetic in a confused state, refusing food and medication. Faye was taken aside by a consultant surgeon she had not met before.
“He was smiley. He came across as quite charming and caring,” Faye said. During their conversation, she happened to glance downward and noticed something unusual. “I remember looking down and I noticed he’d got metal sticks coming out of his trouser legs. I thought, blimey, he’s operated on my mum, but he’s also an amputee.”
At the time, Faye assumed there was some straightforward medical explanation. It was only later that she and her family learned the full story behind Hopper’s condition, and the reaction was immediate.
“I felt sick that he was near my mum,” she said.
Hopper’s case has opened up a wider and deeply uncomfortable conversation about patient safety, medical oversight, and what surgeons are required to disclose about their own physical and psychological health.
The core concern for many families is not simply what Hopper did in his private life, but whether his state of mind at the time he was practising posed any risk to the people in his care. Amputation surgery is complex and irreversible. Patients and their families trusted that the person performing these life-changing procedures was fit to do so in every sense.
The condition at the centre of this case is known in medical literature as Body Integrity Identity Disorder, or BIID. People with the condition experience a persistent and overwhelming desire to remove one or more of their own limbs. It is rare, not fully understood, and sits in a contested space between psychiatry and ethics. Some individuals with BIID seek surgical intervention, though the vast majority of surgeons refuse to perform such procedures.
How Hopper came to lose his legs, and whether any medical professionals were involved or aware of his intentions, remains part of the broader picture families are pushing to understand.
For regulatory bodies, the case presents a difficult set of questions. Surgeons in the UK are required to declare conditions that may affect their ability to practise safely, but the boundaries around mental health disclosures remain a sensitive and legally complex area. Whether Hopper was ever assessed in relation to his condition, and what conclusions were reached if so, is something affected families want answered.
The Royal Cornwall Hospital has not escaped scrutiny either. Staff who worked alongside Hopper may have had questions of their own, and whether any concerns were ever raised internally is something patient groups are calling for a full review to establish.
Liz Spooner’s family say they are not necessarily claiming that her surgery went wrong or that she was directly harmed. Their anger is more fundamental than that. They feel they were denied information that should have been available to them, and that the consent process before major surgery depends on patients and families having a true picture of the person performing the operation.
“You trust these people completely,” Faye said. “You have no choice but to trust them. And then you find out something like this.”
The case is likely to prompt fresh debate about how the General Medical Council handles fitness to practise assessments, and whether the current system is equipped to identify surgeons whose private behaviour might raise legitimate questions about their professional role.
For now, families like Faye’s are left sitting with a mixture of confusion, anger, and grief, trying to make sense of a situation that nobody prepared them for.