It's Nothing Personal

by Gorman MD, Sherry

  Allison jostled Jenna back to the task at hand. “Doctor, please answer the question.”

  Jenna refocused. “I don’t think I can answer that. I don’t know what other people’s motivations are. I do know, based on my experience, that I trusted my OR staff. Prior to this unprecedented event, I had no reason not to trust them. I fully expected that St. Augustine would hire quality people, and I had no reason to question that belief. I can’t foresee whether or not someone would commit a crime any more than I could foresee what you’re going to eat for dinner.”

  “So what you’re telling me is that you had no worry, no concern, that any of the nurses or other people that you worked with would ever divert drugs? You could never have imagined such a thing?”

  Nancy interrupted, “Objection, form, misstates.”

  Jenna replied with conviction, “I don’t agree with your statement. I never said that.”

  Allison blasted back, “So then, would you agree that it would be foreseeable that health-care workers, including scrub techs, may divert controlled substances?”

  Nancy again said, “Objection, form, misstates.”

  “I don’t agree with that, either.”

  It was a battle of wills. Jenna fully recognized that Allison desperately wanted to put condemning words in her mouth, and Jenna was determined to keep it from happening.

  Allison slapped her palm on the table. Surprised by the action, Jenna caught her breath.

  “So you don’t agree with that, either? Which is it, Doctor? How foreseeable is it that a nurse or scrub tech would divert controlled substances in a hospital setting?”

  The room was focused on Jenna. She did not blink once as she replied, “In January, 2010, I don’t think the actions of Hillary Martin were at all foreseeable.”

  Allison stood and rested her hands on the edge of the table, towering over Jenna. With malice, she asked, “Are you aware that if a judge and jury determine your failure to lock and secure controlled substances was willful and wanton conduct, they could award for punitive damages?”

  Jenna silently thanked her lawyers for preparing her for this topic. Although she had been forewarned, she decided to feign ignorance.

  With bright, wide eyes, Jenna replied, “I’m not a legal expert. In fact, I understand law about as well as you understand medicine. I don’t know a whole lot about punitive damages.”

  Allison harrumphed. Jenna had not intended to become confrontational, but the words slipped out. Secretly, she did not regret it. Especially when she looked over and saw the cameraman roll his eyes at her comment. After enduring hours of verbal assaults, sarcasm, and scrutiny, this one little comment vindicated Jenna.

  Acting as if nothing had happened, Jenna waited patiently for the next question.

  Allison remained standing. “Just to enlighten you, punitive damages are not covered by your insurance policy.”

  Jenna deeply wanted to enlighten Allison Anders that humans aren’t supposed to be cannibals. Instead, she refrained from responding and stared blankly at her nemesis.

  Allison sat down and pulled a document from a stack of papers in front of her.

  “Looking at your anesthesia record for Ms. Hollings, which you have in the papers in front of you, would you agree that her vital signs and response to the initial dose of Fentanyl are consistent with her receiving saline and not Fentanyl?”

  Jenna made a display of rifling through the stack, painstakingly searching through each page. Meanwhile, Allison gritted her teeth.

  After several minutes, Jenna had the record in front of her. She raised her head and replied with conviction, “Absolutely not.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because her vital signs show a completely normal response to the induction of anesthesia. Both her heart rate and blood pressure drop.”

  “Would you agree that the fact that she required additional narcotic, in the form of Morphine, is evidence that the initial dose of Fentanyl was, in fact, saline?”

  Jenna spoke slowly, enunciating every syllable, “Ab-so-lute-ly not.”

  “And again, I ask you, why not?”

  “Because if you look at what she received in total, it demonstrates that, for whatever reason, Ms. Hollings had a tolerance to the effects of narcotics. If she didn’t have tolerance, 10 milligrams of Morphine should have been more than sufficient to carry her through the entire procedure, with or without the initial dose of Fentanyl. The fact that she required a total dose of 15 milligrams of Morphine, which is substantial, proves nothing more than Ms. Hollings requires more narcotic than the average person.”

  “Yes, but it’s also consistent with the fact that Michelle Hollings did not receive 250 micrograms of Fentanyl, but instead received saline. Wouldn’t you agree that this could also possibly explain her need for additional narcotics?”

  “No,” replied Jenna, refusing to fold.

  Allison’s back stiffened and she pounded her fist on the conference table. Her face was beefy red.

  “Tell me, Dr. Reiner! Tell me why it’s not consistent with this anesthesia record, her vital signs, and the drugs you dispensed and administered. Why is that not consistent with the possibility that she received saline versus Fentanyl?”

  Nancy cried out, “Objection, asked and answered.”

  “No! You’re not answering my questions!” Allison shouted back at Jenna. “You’re saying why it’s not consistent with . . . or why it’s fine . . . or why it’s patient dependent. My question is, do you have any evidence to the contrary, looking at this anesthesia record, that Michelle Hollings received saline rather than Fentanyl?”

  Jenna decided to push things. “Can you please repeat the question?”

  It was all Jenna could do to refrain from laughing as she said the words.

  Allison’s nostrils flared. “You heard the question, Doctor.”

  Jenna replied smoothly, “I need you to repeat it, please.”

  Shaking her copy of the anesthesia record at Jenna, Allison shouted, “Do you have any evidence to prove that Michelle Hollings did not receive saline instead of Fentanyl?”

  “I don’t see anything in this record that would support your speculation.”

  Allison strained to maintain her composure. She took a moment to look up something on her laptop. Jenna figured it was Allison’s way of taking a very necessary time out.

  After several minutes, Allison asked Jenna, “Do you think Hillary Martin is at fault for infecting Michelle Hollings with hepatitis C?”

  Although Jenna hated Hillary Martin for her crimes and for the lives she had ruined, including her own, Jenna also detected another trap in this question.

  She answered carefully, “I honestly don’t know. I’m not sure if any of us will ever really know what happened in that operating room. So, without knowing the truth, I can’t really answer one way or the other.”

  “Do you blame St. Augustine Hospital at all for the fact that Ms. Hollings contracted hepatitis C?”

  Again, Jenna repressed her true feelings. “I don’t have enough information right now to make a decision on that. If I had all the information, I’d be able to sit down, digest it, and decide where I stood.”

  Allison shot daggers at Jenna. “Dr. Reiner, if you had reasonably locked the controlled substances that you dispensed for Michelle Hollings, or waited to dispense them from the Accudose until Ms. Hollings was present in the operating room, she would not have contracted hepatitis C, correct?”

  Jenna sat with perfect posture and returned Allison’s stare. In a clear voice that resonated throughout the room, Jenna boldly stated, “Incorrect. I disagree.”

  The afternoon was dragging on. Jenna glanced out the window and noticed the sun starting to descend over the western mountains. She was anxious for this to end.

  As if a higher power heard her request, Allison blurted, “No further questions.”

  The cameraman grunted, “This concludes the videotaped deposition of Dr. Jenna Reiner. The time is 4:47 p.m. on th
is 24th day of June, 2011.”

  Jenna grabbed her purse and left without saying a word. Jim and Nancy lingered to discuss some issues with Allison Anders. Jenna was not about to wait for them. She knew she would meet them outside. Marching proudly to the elevators, Jenna stepped in alone. Once the doors closed, Jenna lifted her middle finger to the savagery she was escaping.

  CHAPTER 38

  Jenna bolted from the building. After being held prisoner in an artificially lit conference room for hours, the late afternoon sun blinded her. She put on her sunglasses and waited for her lawyers. The buzz of the Friday afternoon traffic on the nearby highway made her long to be on the road, heading home. Reaching into her purse, she pulled out her phone.

  There was a text message from Tom. “What do you want to do for dinner?”

  Jenna quickly texted back, “DRINK!” and silenced the phone.

  Sitting on the hard, dirty concrete steps, Jenna stretched her legs out in front of her, tilted her head back toward the blue sky, and closed her eyes. She was completely worn-out. Lost in thought, Jenna jumped when she felt Jim gently tap her shoulder. She turned her head toward her attorneys.

  “Let us walk you to your car,” said Jim. “We can talk along the way.”

  It was evident to Jenna that Jim wanted to get beyond both earshot and eyeshot of Allison Anders. Hastily, Jenna stood, and the three of them walked along the sidewalk. It felt like an eternity had passed since she parked along the street that morning.

  Once they were away from the building, Jenna stopped and asked everything she wanted and needed to know with one word, “So?”

  Jim and Nancy were beaming. Jenna never imagined either of them being giddy, but they were. They both started their praises at the same instant, talking over each other in short spurts.

  “You were great.”

  “You surpassed our expectations.”

  “You should become an expert witness. You held yourself together so well.”

  Then came the most important compliment, “You won!”

  Jenna looked at them in disbelief. “Really? I’m sure I must have messed up somewhere.”

  Jim, the more solemn and reserved of her two attorneys, said with absolute conviction, “If you messed up somewhere, I’d tell you. Of course, when we get a copy of the transcript, we’ll go through it and maybe catch a flaw or two. But being witness to things today, I think you did great! If we go to trial, and I hope we do, I think you are going to make a phenomenal witness. What about you, Jenna? How do you feel right now?”

  “I’m relieved it’s over. I feel a hell of a lot better than I expected I would. I’ll tell you one thing. If anyone tries to tell me this isn’t personal ever again, I think my head will explode. Allison Anders made it very personal today. Maybe she talks to every defendant like that, but I will never forget the things she said and the way she said them. I truly hate her. You’d have a hard time convincing me that the feeling wasn’t mutual. There’s no way she could have acted that way toward me if she felt otherwise.”

  Jim rubbed his chin and agreed, “Maybe you’re right.”

  Jenna interrupted, “And another thing . . . I will not settle this case. I’d rather go to court, defend myself, and lose, than to concede defeat without a fight. I will never bow down to Allison Anders. Ever.”

  Suddenly, something occurred to Jenna. “Lyle Silverstein never showed up. Does that mean anything?”

  Jim shrugged his shoulders. “You’re the first woman physician to be deposed. Maybe they thought another professional female would get to you more than a male. I consider it a lucky break.”

  “Yeah, me too,” Jenna agreed, unable to imagine anyone worse than Allison Anders.

  Nancy said, “We’ll be in touch with you early next week. The next few months will be filled with more depositions, document gathering, et cetera. We’ll keep you informed every step of the way. For now, you’ve had a long day, and you did great. Go home. Hug your husband and your little girl. Relax. Have a cocktail. You’ve earned it.”

  “Do I have to do those things in that order?” Jenna joked as she got into her car.

  Jim and Nancy stood on the sidewalk and watched Jenna drive away. Although her attorneys were genuinely thrilled for the day’s outcome, they knew Jenna’s newfound momentum would only carry her so far.

  Jenna’s attorneys watched her car disappear around a corner. Nancy looked at Jim with a regretful frown. “When should we break the news?”

  Jim absentmindedly looked down at the concrete. Finally, he said, “She’s been through a lot. Let’s allow her to savor today’s victory. She and her family leave for Hawaii next week. Let’s give her a little peace. We’ll tell her about the additional charges against her when she gets back. Nothing is going to change between now and then.”

  **********

  On the way home, Jenna called Tom. He had been emotionally prepared for tears and devastation. Instead, Tom was pleasantly stunned to hear elation, confidence, and spunk in his wife’s voice. While Jenna yammered about what details she could remember, a glimmer of hope began to surface in Tom.

  Maybe, things would be okay. Maybe, this would not destroy Jenna after all. Just maybe, his wife finally had the backbone to stand up for herself.

  CHAPTER 39

  Allison peered out of the conference room windows, down to the steps in front of the building. Dr. Jenna Reiner sat alone, with her legs stretched out in front of her. From Allison’s perch six floors above the ground, she scrutinized the doctor. Allison found her exasperating and completely unpredictable. Jenna, with her big, blue eyes full of innocence, her unpretentious demeanor, her calm, unhurried responses. Allison had neither expected nor prepared for this encounter. Replaying the day’s events in her mind, Allison concluded that Jenna was either incredibly cunning or unbelievably stupid. Either way, Allison painfully admitted that she had lost this encounter.

  Catching her own reflection in the window, Allison appeared worn down. Her lipstick had worn away hours ago, exposing her pale lips. Allison’s silk blouse, once perfectly pressed, was wrinkled. Smudged mascara had pooled at the bottom of her eyes.

  Through the window, Allison spied Jim and Nancy as they approached their client. The three of them were walking away from the building when she heard the sound of Lyle Silverstein behind her, clearing his throat. Inconspicuously, Allison wiped the mascara from below her eyes and spun around, flashing a confident smile at her partner.

  Lyle had been secluded in his office for the duration of the deposition. He watched the events unfold from a live video stream supplied by multiple hidden cameras embedded at strategic locations within the conference room. His entire day was spent dissecting the facial expressions, body language, and mannerisms of everyone in the room, particularly those of Dr. Reiner. On more than one occasion, Lyle fought the impulse to barge in and attack her. The doctor’s soft-spoken nature and composure incensed him.

  Adding to Lyle’s frustration was his profound disappointment in Allison’s performance. Her mission was to brutalize Jenna Reiner. Lyle did not care if that meant bringing the doctor to tears or provoking her into anger. By whatever means necessary, by the end of the day Jenna Reiner should have been destroyed.

  Allison did not say a word as she focused on Lyle, watching him shut both doors to the conference room. Lyle pressed a control button on a panel in the back of the room, causing the windows that faced the lobby to become opaque. Allison braced herself.

  Grimacing, Lyle strode across the conference room, towering over Allison, as they stood face-to-face. She reminded herself to breathe.

  “What the fuck was that?” Lyle hissed.

  Acutely cognizant of her failings, Allison did not answer. Instead, she stood tall and did her best to hold Lyle’s sharp stare.

  “You let that little bitch of a doctor run the show. She set the pace, not you. Jenna Reiner played you like a fiddle. You were supposed to rattle her – not the other way around.”

  His words
boomed throughout the confines of the conference room. Allison was certain that the receptionist and anyone in the lobby could overhear his lashing. However unpleasant, she knew she deserved his reproach.

  “Lyle,” Allison said, “I was as surprised as anyone by Dr. Reiner. Unfortunately, I underestimated her. Let me assure you, that won’t happen twice.”

  “See that it doesn’t. You didn’t get one helpful admission from her. Dr. Reiner handed your ass to you. It was embarrassing to watch.”

  Lyle’s words stung. He was Allison’s mentor and senior partner, and his validation and approval meant everything to her. He was one of the few people that she actually admired.

  Attempting to redeem herself, Allison spoke. “Today wasn’t a complete loss, Lyle.”

  Silverstein took a seat. Allison sat across from him, opening her laptop.

  Lyle gripped the edges of the dark cherry table tightly, leaving oily impressions from his fingers on the surface. Chuckling, he said, “Help me understand, Allison, how today was not a complete loss.”

  Allison leaned back and grinned, appearing infinitely more confident than minutes before. “First of all, now we know Jenna Reiner. She was very well prepared for today, but I also think that it was all she could do to keep it together. Toward the end, I sensed her starting to falter. She may have had the strength to go up against us once, but I don’t think she could do it again. I think we should file a motion to have her redeposed.”

  Lyle’s face relaxed. Intrigued, he asked, “On what grounds?”

  “On the grounds that her answers were exceedingly evasive. I will have the motion prepared by Monday and file it with the court immediately.”

  Lyle nodded, “All right. Let me review it before you send it out. We can’t afford to screw this up, Allison. She needs to disappear. This case cannot go to trial.”

  “You have my assurance. Jenna Reiner will not be a problem.”