It's Nothing Personal Page 11
Montano’s condescending tone incited Hillary. She glowered at the prosecutor and said bitterly, “Yes.”
The federal prosecutor persisted, unfazed by Hillary’s defiance.
“Is it true that before you started working at St. Augustine, you were explicitly told by a nurse at the employee health clinic that you had hepatitis C? Furthermore, did the nurse not provide you with a hard copy of those lab results? In case you don’t remember, I have a copy of those results with your signature of acknowledgement at the bottom.”
Hillary started to fidget. Her nostrils flared as she responded, “Yes.”
Montano could see the perspiration collecting on Hillary’s brow. Sensing her growing discomfort, he continued his assault.
“Regarding your diversion of Fentanyl at St. Augustine Hospital, you indicated to the police that you would sometimes take the drug home and shoot up there. Is that correct?”
“Yes.” Hillary knew exactly where Montano was headed. She tried to slow her breathing, in hopes that her heart rate would follow suit.
“Did you ever share the needles and the stolen Fentanyl with other people?”
Montano held his breath as he waited for her response. This was the most critical question he would ask. Up until this point, investigators were only attempting to identify patients who were positive for hepatitis C with a viral DNA sequence that matched that of Hillary Martin’s. If there were other individuals involved in contaminating the needles and syringes, the genotype match would become a meaningless tool for identifying victims. Worse, there could be other diseases involved. The magnitude of the crisis was about to escalate.
Hillary gazed at her reflection in the one-way mirror behind Montano. Her chest felt constricted. “Yes,” Hillary whispered. She took a big breath and forced out the truth in a guttural cry, “Yes!”
CHAPTER 25
December 15, 2010
Jenna woke early, put on several layers of clothing, and took her dog for a run. Although the temperature was near freezing, the solitude of her neighborhood at five o’clock in the morning helped calm her nerves. By six o’clock, she returned home, breathless and invigorated. Walking through the front door, she found herself greeted by Mia, who was sauntering down the stairs, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.
“Hi, Mommy,” Mia said groggily.
“Hi, Princess.” Jenna walked over and hugged her daughter.
Mia giggled, “Gross, Mom! You’re all sweaty.”
Jenna laughed as she grabbed Mia tight, trapping her. Mia struggled to break free, but to no avail. Jenna kissed the ticklish crook of Mia’s neck one last time and then hurried off to take a shower.
At eight o’clock, Jenna arrived at the hospital. She only had three short cases, and then she was free. By mid-morning, the day was going along smoothly. The operating room staff was joking around, and everyone was in good spirits. Jenna allowed herself to forget about the impending lawsuit and enjoy the banter.
With only one case to go, Jenna walked into the congested preoperative area. Anxious to get the case finished, she hoped to finish some Christmas shopping before she had to pick Mia up from school. Jenna was introducing herself to her last patient when her cell phone rang. She snuck a peek at the display. It was Jim Taylor. Jenna excused herself and stepped into the hallway to take the call.
Jim said with remorse, “Jenna, we just got served by Allison Anders. Unfortunately, you are formally being sued.”
Jenna felt the room spin. For the first time in her life, she felt faint. Her muscles went limp, and the images around her blurred. Instinctively, she dropped to the ground. The floor swayed to and fro beneath her.
Two of the preop nurses rushed over. The color had vanished from Jenna’s skin, turning her a worrisome shade of gray.
“Dr. Reiner! Are you okay?” Susana, the charge nurse, shook Jenna by the shoulders as she shouted the words.
The only thing Jenna heard was a high-pitched ringing, and her vision slowly turned to black. Someone placed a chilly, wet towel on the back of Jenna’s neck. Another person ordered Jenna to take a sip of juice. Slowly, things came back into focus. Jenna’s phone lay on the ground, beside her. A concerned crowd of nurses and physicians encircled her.
The usual frenzied pace of the preop area had come to a halt. Jenna had become quite a spectacle. She looked up at the nurses and her fellow physicians – everyone was staring. A flood of heat spread over her face and neck. Once the onlookers saw that Jenna was okay, most went back to their own affairs. Susana remained and helped Jenna to her feet.
It took Jenna a few more seconds to realize that the whole event had taken place directly in front of her patient’s bay.
“Are you alright?” Susana asked.
Jenna could only shake her head as tears pooled in her eyes, threatening to spill over. Not wanting to create any more public drama, she ran to the locker room and locked herself in one of the bathroom stalls. Jenna buried her head in a mound of toilet paper, hoping to muffle the sounds of her sobs.
When she came out, Susana was waiting for her.
Jenna covered her face with her hands. “I’m so sorry. I can’t do the next case. That patient saw and heard everything. I need to get out of here.”
Susana put her arms around Jenna. “Take the staircase. I grabbed your stuff from the OR, so you don’t have to go back. Don’t worry about the next case. I’ll call your office and tell them you’re sick. Now go.”
“Thank you,” Jenna mouthed.
Grabbing her bag, Jenna bolted out of the hospital and drove directly to the offices of Moore and Everett.
On the drive, she called Tom. They both knew this was coming, but the reality sucked the air from Jenna’s lungs. Tom could hardly understand what his wife was saying through her sobs and erratic breathing. Ultimately, Tom got the gist of what had transpired, and he instantly felt his wife’s pain.
“Just call me when you’re done. Drive carefully, and don’t worry about Mia. I’ll make sure she’s taken care of.”
“Thanks,” she whispered. Jenna then hung up and parked. She marched into her lawyers’ building and rode the elevator up to their offices. This would be the first meeting with her attorneys that really mattered.
CHAPTER 26
Jenna was directed to take a seat in the waiting area next to the floor-to-ceiling windows. She walked over and reflected on the city below. The scene was so pretty. The city was dusted in snow and decked out in holiday lights and decorations. It dawned on her that she had planned to spend the afternoon shopping for gifts for Mia, not here discussing how her life was falling apart. It made her feel violated and resentful.
A single, involuntary tear slid down Jenna’s cheek. Inconspicuously, she wiped it away. She could cry all the way home and all night long if she needed, but not here.
Soon, Jim and Nancy arrived in the lobby. They spotted their client motionless, with her body pressed against the window.
Not wanting to startle her, Jim spoke softly, “Jenna?”
She drew in a large breath and turned around to face her attorneys. It was evident to both of them that she was terrified. They approached and shook Jenna’s hand. Nancy caught Jenna off guard as she moved in close and gave her a quick, reassuring hug.
The threesome went back into the conference room and sat down. Jim handed Nancy and Jenna a stack of documents and kept an identical set for himself.
Reading the top page, Jenna felt like she had been punched in the midsection. She fought for oxygen as her heart fluttered. The words felt like knives, piercing through her soul. On the top of the first page, in black and white, there were allegations she could never erase, never make go away. “Plaintiff: Michelle Hollings v. Defendants: St. Augustine Hospital and Jenna Reiner, M.D.” She was officially a “Defendant.”
Calmly, Jim said, “Let’s go through the complaint and make sure you understand it in its entirety. We reviewed it before you got here. The first few pages are mundane formalities, so we can ski
p past them.”
Jenna could see Jim’s mouth moving and hear his voice, but she was not processing anything he said. Scrambled thoughts plagued her mind. Jenna strained to focus on words she could not bear to hear. Slowly, Jim’s voice registered and began to make sense.
“Next, we come to the ‘General Allegations’ section. This is where they lay down their case.”
For the next two hours, Jim reviewed the seventy-five points it took for Allison Anders to painstakingly detail how Jenna and St. Augustine had messed up at every turn. According to the allegations, the hospital failed to detect Hillary Martin’s diversion activities and drug addiction. Jenna failed to secure her narcotics, leaving them vulnerable to Hillary Martin’s diversion practices. Michelle Hollings contracted hepatitis C because of their collective mistakes. Both the hospital and Jenna were to blame, and Michelle Hollings deserved to be compensated for her pain and suffering.
Seemingly, there was no shortage of pain and suffering for Ms. Hollings. According to the complaint, her life had been utterly destroyed by her infection. Required to take dozens of oral and injectable medications each week, Ms. Hollings was traumatized by having to inject herself with needles. Side effects of the therapy caused Ms. Hollings to suffer from constant joint pain, drug-induced weight loss, flu-like symptoms, depression, and emotional and physical exhaustion. She was left unable to function in either a professional or social capacity. Obtaining affordable or effective health insurance coverage would be an unattainable goal.
Jenna thought it could not get any worse. It did not seem like there was anything left to ruin in Ms. Hollings’ life. Jenna was sure that Jim had to be at the end of the complaint, but the insults continued.
“Michelle Hollings lives in a state of constant apprehension as to whether her contraction of hepatitis C will result in cirrhosis, end-stage liver disease, the need for liver transplantation, or even premature death. She may never be able to have children.”
Jenna stared at the malicious words in disbelief. She balled her fists. On the verge of tears, she fought to hold back.
“Is that all?” she cried.
Jim promptly responded, “Jenna, I know it’s hard to hear these allegations. You need to distance yourself. Just because they say these things, doesn’t make them true. That’s why you have us. One by one, we will expose their claims for the nonsense that they are.”
Jim gave Jenna a minute to absorb all that she had heard. Knowing the next part would likely be the most hurtful, he dreaded what he had to tell her next. Whatever trauma Michelle Hollings had endured was mirrored in the devastated expression on Jenna’s face.
Forcing himself to forge ahead, Jim continued, “The last part of the complaint lists the individual claims. In total, St. Augustine is being sued for eight different claims that range from negligent hiring practices to reckless and intentional infliction of emotional distress.”
Jim proceeded to Jenna’s involvement, “You are being sued for two claims.”
“Well, I guess that’s better than eight,” Jenna said, helplessly. “What are they?”
“The first claim is for medical negligence. The claim states that you had acquired Ms. Hollings’ trust and confidence, and you violated that trust when you failed to ensure that your narcotics were adequately secured and monitored. It also asserts that you failed to properly monitor Ms. Hollings’ level of pain and the effectiveness of the Fentanyl prior to and during her operation. They allege that as a direct and proximate result of your negligence, Michelle Hollings has suffered injuries, losses, and damages.”
Losses and damages. The words resonated in Jenna’s head.
Jim continued, “The second claim against you is negligence per se.”
Jenna immediately asked, “What’s that?”
“Negligence per se means that you violated a law or a rule. It’s different than medical negligence in that with medical negligence, the claim is that your actions were below the standard of care. That is, your actions deviated from what your peers would do under similar circumstances.
“With negligence per se, the claim isn’t that your actions failed to meet the standard of care, but that they violated a law. In this instance, it doesn’t matter what your peers would do.
“What this claim states is that you violated rules under the Controlled Substances Act. The Act makes it unlawful for Schedule II controlled substances, such as Fentanyl, to be stored in an unlocked, unmonitored, or otherwise unsecured manner.”
Jenna flipped to the last page of the twenty-six-page document. Interrupting Jim, Jenna read aloud, her voice rising with disgust and indignation with each passing word.
“Wherefore Michelle Hollings prays for judgment against Defendant St. Augustine Hospital and Defendant Dr. Jenna Reiner, in an amount to be determined by the trier of the fact, for compensatory damages in an amount sufficient to compensate her for her losses as set forth above, special damages, and for costs, expert witness’ fees, attorneys’ fees, filing fees, pre-judgment interest, post-judgment interest, and such other further relief as the Court may deem appropriate, just, and proper.”
Jenna threw the document on the table. Her face was flaming red with disdain.
“Do we have to pay for her clothing and meals, too? Maybe she needs a manicure before the trial! We better factor that in, as well. Maybe we should put her up in a five-star hotel while we’re at it.” Jenna was yelling, not at her lawyers, but at the document and the people behind it.
The degree of theatrics and lies astounded Jenna. Her initial feelings of shame and guilt lifted and were replaced by anger, disbelief, and revulsion.
Jenna could imagine Allison Anders in some ridiculous lawyer commercial. “Have you or someone you love been hurt by your physician? Is your life forever ruined because your doctor messed up? Do you need a huge amount of cash to ease your pain and suffering? Well, call the attorneys at AAA Money Sharks, and we will get justice and money for you!”
Several hours had passed, but to Jenna, time seemed to stand still.
Sadly, she confessed, “One thing they said was absolutely true. I did leave my drugs unattended. How can I possibly defend that?”
Jim’s eyes brightened. “That’s why you have us.”
CHAPTER 27
During the meeting, Jim had watched Jenna closely. He was having a hard time reading her. When Jim had first seen her looking out the window of the lobby, she had looked so vulnerable, so shocked, so devastated. Jenna still looked that way, but there had been a very subtle, yet noticeable, shift. Jim thought he saw a flicker of feistiness in her eyes and an inner resolve that was starting to come to life.
Nancy sensed it, too. She had been observing Jenna’s expressions as Jim meticulously reviewed the complaint. Nancy saw the pain and humiliation in Jenna’s face when she initially saw her name listed as “Defendant.” There were moments when she was certain Jenna was going to break down in tears, but she never did. Nancy also noticed Jenna had moments where she looked truly appalled and offended. These were the emotions they needed to foster in their client.
Jenna started to speak, but was embarrassed by the smack of sticky, dried saliva as she opened and closed her mouth. With tremulous hands, she reached for a bottle of water from the center of the table and gulped its contents.
With her mouth no longer dry, she asked, “Where do we go from here? I need to know what to expect.” Jenna’s eyes narrowed, and her lips pursed. She was regaining control.
“In the big picture,” Jim explained, “where we go from here is a long, arduous process. The next step is called discovery. Formally, it’s where both sides request information from a variety of sources, and we start to build the foundation for our defense. In actuality, mostly it’s a period of bickering and jostling between opposing counsel. Once we get toward the end of the discovery period, depositions are taken. Have you ever given a deposition?”
“No,” replied Jenna, with the innocence of a child. “Honestly, I’m not even sure wh
at a deposition is.”
Jim smiled kindly, “That’s okay. No one expects you to know what any of this stuff means. A deposition is a formal interview where the person being deposed is under oath. We will take depositions of all the expert witnesses who are called to testify, both for our side and theirs. You will also be deposed.”
Jenna raised her eyebrows. “Me?”
Nancy watched Jenna’s mounting anxiety. It was astonishing to witness Jenna’s resolve shift – brave Jenna one minute, vulnerable Jenna the next. Regardless, Nancy knew she could not afford to mince words. Jenna needed to start preparing for a vicious battle.
“Besides your performance in court, your deposition will probably be the most important thing you contribute to your case. To be brutally honest, the purpose of your deposition is singular. It’s Anders’ chance to get you to hang yourself with your own words. She will try to get you to admit that what you did was wrong. She will attempt to twist your words, trip you up, and make you appear dishonest. She will hammer you with the same questions over and over again for hours in hopes that you will eventually contradict yourself. All while you are being videotaped, audiotaped, and every word you say is transcribed by a court reporter.”
“Sounds wonderful,” replied Jenna bleakly.
Nancy reached out and patted Jenna’s hand. “I know it sounds horrible, and it is. But I’d rather have you mentally geared up for a grueling experience. When we get close to the time of the deposition, we will do mock testimonies, grill you, and pin you into a corner. That way, when Anders tries to do it for real, you’ll be ready.”
“Okay,” Jenna muttered, still terrified. “When will my deposition happen?”
Jim responded, “We don’t have a firm date or timeline, but I would expect not for a while. Probably about six months from now. Our trial date has been set for January 30, 2012.”
“Wow,” said Jenna, sounding depressed. “So this lawsuit is going to be hanging over my head for over a year? How do people deal with that?”