The last time I was supposed to file this column I was not at my desk - I was at the launch of the findings of a public inquiry.

For a few days beforehand there had been a flurry of stories about the plight of patients infected with nasty conditions such as Hepatitis C and HIV by NHS treatments made from donated blood.

Then the report investigating this "scandal" was published, and I was there along with journalists and TV crews from across the UK. It was an emotional event. The audience included many families who had had to cope (some repeatedly) with the illness and death spread by the use of contaminated blood. They listened in silence as the statement of inquiry chair Lord Penrose was read out, but as it reached its conclusion there were cries of whitewash. A widow from England walked out in disgust, Bill Wright, chair of Haemophilia Scotland and a victim himself, took to the stage to plead with people to stay, promising he shared their frustration but all hope was not lost.

People expressed their anger with the findings in different ways - the drama of burning the five-volume report behind the National Museum of Scotland was not for everyone - but the disappointment

was shared.

How could this be the culmination of an investigation which had cost £12m and taken six years?

To some extent, this inquiry was never going to deliver justice. Imagine having a blood clotting disorder, then developing new symptoms, such as sickness and constant fatigue, but doctors knowing little about what is wrong. Then, at length, imagine finding you have a virus associated with drug addicts and watching your friends die because they were similarly infected while the rest of the world carries on like nothing has happened. This is massively disempowering and Penrose could not give people back their health or control over their own lives.

But, his statement and the summary of his findings - about the maximum text people could digest on publication day - lacked real empathy which heightened the frustration.

For example, for patients not being informed about their infections was very significant and distressing - but the chairman's statement seems to dismiss this in a paragraph. It says times were different in the 1970s and 80s and doctors were not used to telling patients everything. Even if this generalisation is true, it does not make it OK. It warranted criticism.

Furthermore, while the report acknowledges the impact on patients was "devastating" the next sentence talks about the "forgotten suffering" of the medical staff as though it were of similar magnitude. While it was right to acknowledge their distress at finding treatments they administered made people ill - the emphasis felt wrong.

The repeated use of the word "unfortunate" in Lord Penrose's narrative to describe delays and misjudgements which caused more family tragedies is also unfortunate.

However, in the quiet which followed the noise of that launch, Scottish politicians have promised to review the compensation given to families. In the discussions and decisions that this will involve there is a last chance for Penrose to make a difference and empower

those living daily with the consequences of treatments made from contaminated blood.