It's Nothing Personal

by Gorman MD, Sherry

  Jon’s harsh words left Jenna feeling wounded.

  She asked shrilly, “You think we are at least partially responsible for all this? How can you think something like that?” Heat rose up Jenna’s neck.

  Unable to face Jenna’s shocked expression, Jon left the room to scrub for the case. He never answered her question.

  The next four hours of the case passed uneventfully. Jon chatted mainly with the nurses, while his selection of jazz blared from the operating room speakers. Normally, Jenna would have been annoyed by the loud music – today was different. At least it relieved her from feeling obligated to engage in any further conversation with Jon. For the duration of the case, Jenna stayed hidden behind the surgical drapes, silently lost in thought.

  The case finished up around noon. In the recovery room, Jenna was in the middle of giving report to the nurse when she felt a hand grip her shoulder. She glanced back to see Jon, standing behind her. He whispered in her ear, “Jenna, I can’t change the way I feel, but, for what it’s worth, I really hope that none of your patients were infected.”

  Jenna smiled nervously and whispered, “Me too.”

  CHAPTER 10

  Jenna’s stomach growled as she left the recovery room and headed toward the cafeteria in search of food. Passing the nurses’ lounge, she noticed it was unusually crowded. Spotting Rebecca, Jenna sprinted to catch up with her in the hallway.

  “Hey, Rebecca. What’s going on in there?”

  Rebecca spoke softly, as if she were divulging a secret. “Keith Jones is going to update the staff on the hep C stuff.”

  “Is this meeting just for nurses, or can I go too?”

  Rebecca responded kindly, “I don’t see why you can’t attend. Go on in. There’s some pizza in there, so feel free to help yourself.”

  “Thanks,” Jenna said. She headed into the crammed nurses’ lounge and stood inconspicuously near the doorway. Even though the pizza smelled delicious, her appetite had disappeared.

  Most of the rectangular lounge was occupied by a large dining table. The relatively small amount of remaining space was inadequately suited to accommodate what appeared to be at least fifty staff members who had gathered for the impromptu meeting. Every chair at the long dining table was taken, some being shared by two nurses. Other staff members stood against the walls. Even though most of the staff took advantage of the free lunch, they chewed their food in silence, not wanting to miss a single detail of what Keith Jones was about to say.

  Jenna surveyed the room. Finally, at one end of the table, she spotted the CEO. They had never been introduced. In fact, the first time Jenna ever had a face to put with his name was the day she saw him on the news. However menacing Keith Jones appeared to be on TV, in person he was more formidable. The CEO was undeniably handsome, but in a hard, chiseled sort of way.

  With practiced style, Keith Jones held up his hands, signaling everyone to quiet down. The gesture was unnecessary. Every person in the room had already fallen completely quiet. Keith Jones confidently addressed the crowd, “Thank you all for coming. I know it’s your lunch period, but with so many staff members, this seemed like the best way to gather the most of you in one place. Hopefully, you all got something to eat. Just so I have a sense of who is in attendance, are most of you operating room nurses and scrub techs?”

  Many of the staff simply nodded. One of the operating room nurses noticed Jenna standing by the door and said, “We also have an anesthesiologist here. Dr. Reiner.” At the mention of her name, the crowd collectively turned their heads toward Jenna, who blushed at being singled out. She looked directly at Keith Jones. His relentless stare perturbed Jenna, but she forced herself to return his gaze. Instantly, she got the impression that he was familiar with her. It was a fleeting awareness, yet undeniably present.

  Suddenly, Jenna felt like a trespasser and regretted having come into the lounge. She addressed Keith Jones, while the entire room remained focused on her. “I thought this meeting was open to everyone. I don’t want to intrude, so I can leave if the meeting was not meant for physicians.”

  Keith Jones continued to concentrate on Jenna. His haunting scrutiny made her feel like he knew her deepest, darkest secrets. In a tone that revealed nothing, Mr. Jones said, “No, Dr. Reiner, it’s fine that you’re here. Please feel free to stay.” Following his approval, the eyes and ears of the staff shifted their attention back to the CEO.

  He resumed his address, “As you are all probably aware, we have had some very unfortunate events occur recently at St. Augustine. I’m going to assume that, by now, you all know the basic details of Hillary Martin and her crimes. If not, I encourage you to visit the employee website.

  “At this point, you all are strongly discouraged from talking about this issue in any area where patients may be present, as well as speaking to members of the press.

  “From a preventive standpoint, all staff anesthesiologists have been advised as to changes in policy regarding the handling and securing of controlled substances. Under no circumstances are any drugs, but most importantly controlled substances, to be left out on anesthesia carts without an anesthesiologist present in the room. Any violation of this policy should be reported immediately to the charge nurse or the chairman of the anesthesia department, Dr. Rob Wilson. Now, if there are any questions, I can attempt to answer them.”

  Impulsively, Jenna raised her hand before she had the good sense to stop herself. Keith Jones had already been gazing in her direction and did not hesitate to call on her, “Yes, Dr. Reiner?”

  Jenna strained to keep her voice even in order to conceal her fear of Keith Jones. “I just want to clarify exactly what you mean by how our drugs should be stored. I understand that our drugs cannot be sitting out in plain sight. My question, however, is whether it is acceptable to store our drugs within the drawers of our anesthesia machine? Is that considered secure?”

  Keith Jones glared at Jenna as if she were the criminal. “At this point, unless drugs are locked within your anesthesia cart or are being carried on your person, they are no longer considered secure. Just so you all know, locks will be installed on all carts by the end of this week.”

  Several nurses raised their hands, and Keith Jones shifted his attention elsewhere. Jenna slipped out of the nurses’ lounge undetected. The interaction left Jenna deeply disturbed. She tried to dismiss it, but Jenna could not shake the feeling that he was somehow sizing her up for a particular reason.

  Jenna arrived home early in the afternoon. The house was quiet and empty, but Jenna could hear Mia and her babysitter, Kim, in the backyard engaged in a water-balloon war. The two girls were so wrapped up in their game that neither of them noticed Jenna’s arrival. Jenna watched in delight as Mia giggled and squealed.

  Hiding behind a lawn chair, Mia taunted Kim, “You can’t get me!”

  Kim shouted back, “Just did!” The splash of water exploding from the impact of a balloon hitting the chair threw both girls into a laughing fit.

  From the deck, Jenna could see Mia’s golden hair was soaked and matted to her head. Her daughter’s eyes twinkled with joy and innocence. For a moment, the luxury of seeing her only child so happy allowed Jenna to overlook the strangeness of the day. A genuine smile crept over Jenna’s face as she tried to put things in perspective.

  CHAPTER 11

  June 16, 2010

  Jenna woke early and left the house by 6:00 a.m. She had been notified the night before that Rob Wilson would be holding a meeting at her group’s office building at 6:30. Attendance was mandatory, and anyone who missed the meeting would be fined. All OR start times had been postponed. Jenna had never seen anything like this in her entire career.

  At 6:20, Jenna arrived at the offices of Mountain Anesthesia Services. In the conference room, foldout chairs had been set up to accommodate the sixty or so members of her group. Jenna took a seat in the back. Five minutes later, every chair was occupied.

  Rob Wilson, dressed in black slacks and a pressed white shirt,
walked in at exactly 6:30. He strode to the front of the room. His voice was powerful and loud. There was a microphone present, but Rob Wilson had no reason to use it.

  “Good morning, and thank you all for arriving promptly. This meeting is intended to make sure we are all on the same page with respect to the hepatitis issue. Mountain Anesthesia Services has been working diligently in cooperation with attorneys from our malpractice carrier and representatives from St. Augustine Hospital. Our attorneys have produced a list of guidelines intended to help all M.A.S. doctors in dealing with this issue.”

  Jenna nervously glanced around the room as she tried to read the faces and thoughts of her colleagues. Everyone appeared unusually serious and subdued. Other than that, nobody was giving anything away.

  Rob Wilson continued, “To begin with, you all must refrain from contacting any patients you may know personally, or any potentially infected patients. If an M.A.S. physician becomes aware that one of his or her patients was infected with hepatitis C during the critical time period, we advise that under no circumstances should you contact those patients. If a patient that you treated contacts you directly, do not discuss this matter or any other aspect of their care. Instead, refer them directly to St. Augustine Hospital. Counsel has further advised us to refrain from offering any apologies to patients, as such statements could later be interpreted as admissions of guilt if litigation occurs.”

  It was the first time Jenna had ever heard the term “counsel has advised.” To her, it sounded particularly formal and daunting.

  “I know this next point is going to bother most of you. St. Augustine has a list of the infected patients to date and therefore also knows which of us are involved. At this time, our malpractice carrier has advised us not to request a copy of this list. We have been advised to wait until St. Augustine completes its investigation and then voluntarily provides us the list.”

  His statement caused an uprising amongst the doctors in the room. Many of Jenna’s colleagues stood up, gesturing wildly and shouting in outrage. Rob’s thunderous voice was drowned out.

  “We have a right to know!”

  “These are our patients!”

  “How can they keep that information from us?”

  The noise level increased, but Jenna tuned them all out. She thought about Keith Jones and whether this explained the ominous look he had given her the day before.

  Rob Wilson did his best to remain calm, but his face flushed. His fellow physicians continued to bombard him with anger. In an effort to regain control, he pounded his fist on the table and bellowed at the group.

  “Alright, everyone, we all need to calm down. This is the advice from our attorneys. As unsavory as it is, it would be foolish and ill-advised to ignore their recommendations.

  “Also, if any of you are contacted by the media, counsel has strongly advised that all M.A.S. physicians refrain from offering any commentary or speculation.”

  In his concluding remarks, Rob Wilson dropped an unexpected axe. “You must all understand that failure to abide by these guidelines could be grounds for suspension or termination. It is imperative that we all act cohesively.”

  Jenna could not believe what she had just heard. She felt agitated, nervous, betrayed, belittled, and angry. Jenna knew Hillary Martin would pay dearly for her crimes. For everyone else pulled into this nightmare, the fate of the scrub tech did not matter. Patients would sue and since Hillary Martin had nothing, the lawsuits would be aimed elsewhere. Jenna was certain that meant both the hospital and the doctors.

  She thought about Keith Jones. He struck her as a self-centered, underhanded son-of-a-bitch. As the head of St. Augustine Hospital, Jenna was certain Mr. Jones would eventually place public blame on the anesthesia doctors. How far Keith Jones was prepared to go in order to save his hospital remained to be seen.

  The meeting officially adjourned, and Jenna was eager to escape. She had no desire to dissect Rob Wilson’s words with any of the other doctors. Jenna was walking to her car when she had a thought that literally stopped her dead in her tracks.

  What would I do if Mia had gone in for a simple surgery and had come out infected with hepatitis C?

  Jenna felt fury and rage swell up inside her at the thought of her daughter having been harmed. Her answer came to her without hesitation.

  I would sue everyone involved and take him or her for all that they had. I wouldn’t stop until everyone who bore any responsibility suffered miserably. I would seek revenge.

  At that exact moment, Jenna fully comprehended the degree of trouble she faced if she indeed had an infected patient.

  CHAPTER 12

  August 2010

  The Reiner family returned from a well-deserved, two-week vacation in Hawaii. In Jenna’s absence, life slowly returned to near normal for the medical community at St. Augustine Hospital. Media coverage dwindled. Patients continued to be tested for hepatitis C, but the majority had already been through the process. The lobby of St. Augustine had been restored to its pre-hepatitis, non-chaotic state. Conversation amongst members of the hospital staff reverted to more mundane topics. Patients stopped asking about the outbreak.

  Jenna’s first day back to work unfolded uneventfully, with easy cases and uncomplicated patients. After her last case, Jenna stopped by the OR control desk to pick up her mail. Absent-mindedly, she sorted through the stack of envelopes and magazines that had accumulated during her absence, while her mind drifted back to her family’s vacation. Visions of Mia frolicking in the ocean played in Jenna’s mind. Mia had looked radiant with her wet hair tangled from the seawater, her light tan shining in the sun, and her blue-green eyes sparkling with unabated happiness. Jenna relished the memory.

  Her thoughts of Mia were instantly overshadowed by a sense of impending trouble when she came across the last envelope in the pile. In her hand, she held a letter from St. Augustine Hospital, addressed to her, and marked with a big red stamp, “CONFIDENTIAL.” Jenna ripped open the envelope and yanked out the letter.

  At that moment, Jenna’s entire life was dissolving. Everything she had strived to achieve was blowing away, like a pile of dust. Standing in the small room, Jenna felt the air grow thick and heavy. It hurt to breathe. Scorching bile rose up from her stomach, coating the back of her throat. She stared at the letter, but the words bled into one another – a sheet of blurry black waves upon a white background. Jenna needed to flee before anyone could see her. Attempting to escape, her legs buckled beneath her. Unsteady and weak, she pushed herself into motion.

  Jenna hastily shoved the letter in her bag and bolted for the back staircase. Clumsily, she lifted her briefcase and charged down three flights of stairs, skipping one and sometimes two steps as she made her descent. Sprinting across the parking garage, Jenna reached her car. Breathless and sweaty, she unlocked the driver’s door and jumped in. Her tires squealed against the pavement as she exited the garage and pulled out on to the main street.

  Immediately, Jenna dialed Tom. He answered on the second ring.

  “Hey, Jenna. Think you’ll make it home in time to meet Mia at the bus stop?” he asked casually.

  On the other end, Jenna tried to talk, but she was wracked by sobs. Tom was instantly concerned. He shouted into the phone, “Jenna? Jenna! Are you okay? What’s going on? Jenna, talk to me!”

  Jenna’s entire body shook. She knew she had to get off the road. Spotting a grocery store, Jenna abruptly changed lanes and nearly sideswiped a woman driving an expensive convertible. Ignoring the angry honks and hostile gestures from the enraged woman, Jenna pulled into the parking lot and stopped her car. Meanwhile, Tom continued shouting frantically at her through the phone.

  “Jenna! You have to talk. Come on, you’re really scaring me.”

  Jenna was now gulping for air, barely able to get out the words, “I’m . . . getting . . . sued.”

  Tom was panic-stricken. “Jenna, I can’t understand you. You need to calm down. Take some deep breaths, and then tell me what’s wrong
.”

  He heard his wife suck in air and blow it out several times. Finally, her wailing seemed to subside.

  Tom gently asked, “Are you okay?”

  All Jenna could do was eek out the word “no” before she started crying again. Several minutes passed before she regained a very modest level of composure. Whimpering softly, Jenna told her husband, “Tom, I’m getting sued. I got a letter from St. Augustine. What am I going to do?”

  “Where are you right now?”

  “I pulled off into a parking lot of some grocery store. I nearly took out some socialite in a convertible as I pulled in.”

  “Can you read me the letter?”

  Tom could hear the rustling of paper in the background. Jenna choked on the words as she spoke.

  “This letter is to notify you that your patient, Michelle Hollings, has retained Allison Anders of Silverstein, Howell, and Anders P.C.”

  “Oh, baby. I’m so sorry. Are you okay to drive? Do you want me to come get you?” Tom had never seen Jenna lose control like this before.

  Jenna leaned her face against the glass of the car door, smearing makeup across the window. The coolness soothed her flushed skin. Closing her eyes, she said, “I’ll be alright. I just need to calm down for a few more minutes before I get back on the road. Can you take care of Mia?”

  Tom reassured his wife, “Don’t worry about Mia, I’ll be there for her at the bus stop. Take all the time you need, but don’t drive until you’re calm. It’s not fair to the innocent debutantes on the road.”

  Jenna forced herself to chuckle at his attempt at humor. “Thanks. I’ll call you when I’m on my way home.”

  CHAPTER 13

  For several minutes, Jenna sat in her SUV, gazing out the window, but seeing nothing. She rolled down the windows and opened the sunroof, allowing a warm, late summer breeze to sweep through the car.