It's Nothing Personal Read online

  She sat down in one of the lobby chairs and tried to give the appearance of someone she knew she wasn’t. She did her best to sit up straight and appear confident and in control. Minutes later, Nancy walked up wearing a beige pantsuit.

  Jenna stood to greet her and was immediately embraced in a hug. Nancy pulled back and looked Jenna over. “You look very nice. Your outfit is perfect. How are you doing on the inside?”

  “Scared to death,” replied Jenna, without hesitation.

  “Did you take the beta blocker you were talking about?”

  Jenna proudly extended her steady hand. “Can’t you tell? I think it’s helping. It’s kind of slowed me down enough to feel somewhat normal.”

  “Good,” said Nancy. “Whatever works.”

  At that moment, both women spotted Jim entering the lobby. He approached and put a hand on Jenna’s shoulder.

  “You ready for this?” Jim asked.

  “No. So let’s go.” Jenna forced herself to smile in spite of her sense of dread.

  Jim and Nancy led the way. They were clearly familiar with the building. Jenna followed them into the elevator, and Jim hit the button for the sixth floor. Equal to the offices of Moore and Everett, Allison Anders and her partners had apparently done well enough to occupy an entire floor. The threesome solemnly stepped out of the elevator and found themselves immediately at the reception desk. Jenna did not dare look around. She was completely focused on her lawyers and nothing else.

  Jim, Nancy, and Jenna took a seat on a leather couch in the lobby. The conference room was directly in front of them, encased in glass walls. The first thing Jenna noticed was the bulky camera positioned at one end of a long, rectangular conference table. A stocky man past his prime was adjusting the camera’s settings. He wore a distastefully bright aloha shirt, which was unbuttoned down to his sternum, revealing his gray, curly, and unruly chest hairs. The man looked like a caricature, dressed more for a night at a casino than for a deposition.

  There were other people in the conference room, but Jenna would not allow herself to look at them. Then, Jim whispered something that broke Jenna’s attention away from the cameraman. “Looks like Ms. Hollings showed up after all.”

  Jenna caught her breath. She could easily guess which of the people in the conference room was her patient. Michelle Hollings was the one with the perky, oversized breasts. The plaintiff had been well prepped for the occasion, wearing a conservative, straight black skirt that went past her knees, a silk blouse, and black pumps. Her long blonde hair had been pulled back into a tight bun. Jenna wondered if Hollings kept the clit ring in.

  Someone from inside the glass conference room motioned to Jim and Nancy, and they stood. Nancy leaned in close to Jenna and whispered, “It’s time.”

  Like a prisoner being marched to the execution chamber, Jenna followed her lawyers, emotionless and compliant. They entered the room, and Jenna instantly recognized Allison Anders. Jenna frowned at her, consumed with pure hatred.

  Jim waved his hand to the head of the table, and Jenna took her seat. As she did, Allison approached. Instinctively, Jenna stood. Before Jenna knew it, she found herself gripping the hand of the devil. Allison’s hands were frigid, her grip severe.

  “Dr. Reiner, I’m Allison Anders, Ms. Hollings’ counsel.”

  Jenna nodded and took her hand back as quickly as possible. She did not say a word. As quickly as Jenna found herself locked in a handshake with Allison Anders, Michelle Hollings was standing in front of her, extending a hand. Jenna stiffly reciprocated. Ms. Hollings introduced herself, and Jenna only nodded. She had nothing to say to Michelle Hollings. Most certainly, she was not about to apologize to her for what happened or offer any sympathy. Jenna remembered the warnings – remorse implies guilt. Staring blankly ahead, Jenna sat back down. All she could think about was how desperately she wanted to scrub the skin off her hands.

  Within moments, everyone had taken their seats. Jenna was sworn in, and the ground rules were explained. Less than five minutes into the deposition, Allison bared her fangs.

  Allison wagged her finger in Jenna’s face, inches from her nose. “Are you aware that, during your deposition, if you testify to something that is inconsistent with any of your own medical records or inconsistent even with a different portion of your deposition, that could be pointed out to a jury, if this went to trial?”

  Jenna refused to pull back. Instead, she stared Allison dead in the eyes and firmly replied, “Yes, I’m aware of that.”

  Allison’s next question deeply offended Jenna. “Is there anything today, whether you’re under the influence of a drug or alcohol or not feeling well, that would affect your ability to give open and honest answers?”

  Jenna never diverted her gaze from Allison. She would not give Allison the satisfaction of being shamed into looking away. Jenna said coolly, “No.”

  “If today, during the deposition, you are not being direct and are being evasive, are you aware that could be pointed out to a jury?”

  Maintaining her stare and intensity, Jenna simply said, “Yes.”

  The next hour was filled with basic questions, establishing basic facts. Allison’s tone was one of complete disapproval of Jenna. Even the simplest questions were asked with mockery. Jenna, determined to do her best, had not yet fumbled. She kept most of her answers to “yes” or “no.”

  Over time, Allison’s tenacity started to wear on Jenna. She could feel her attention lapsing. Jenna kept hoping that Jim would call for a break, as he had promised, but he never did. In the meantime, Allison kept firing questions at her.

  Finally, Jenna decided to take matters into her own hands. At the end of the answer to the next question, Jenna said, “No, and I need to take a break.”

  Allison slammed the screen of her laptop closed, clearly annoyed that Jenna had slipped in her request for a break as part of her answer to a question. Sighing in disgust, Allison said, “Okay. Let’s take a break. We’ll meet back here in fifteen minutes.”

  Jenna led the way this time, with her two lawyers on her heels. She marched directly to the elevators without saying a word. Covertly, Jenna glanced at the conference room while waiting for the elevator to arrive. Allison’s eyes narrowed and her mouth was pinched tight. Apparently, Allison was not accustomed to defendants leaving her floor and escaping her control during a break. Jenna smiled slightly, feeling as though she had just scored one point, albeit a small one. Once on the ground floor, Jenna marched outside into the warm summer air. It was only then that she spoke.

  Biting her thumbnail, she asked, “Have I screwed up yet?”

  She was certain she had made nothing but mistakes. Allison was so relentless and nasty. Every one of Jenna’s answers caused Allison to respond with a look of dismay and disgust. Since Jenna was instructed to avoid looking at her attorneys, she had no feedback other than Allison’s patronizing reactions.

  Jenna’s gaze alternated between her attorneys. She was anxious for their feedback, regardless of how bad it might be. Then Jim and Nancy did something that stunned Jenna. They both smiled.

  Nancy was the first to speak, “Jenna, you are doing great. Honestly. I know it doesn’t feel like it, but you are.”

  Jim actually chuckled, “I think you’re the first person I’ve seen who has succeeded in flustering Allison Anders.”

  Jenna regarded him with disbelief, “What do you mean?”

  Jim replied, more serious this time, “I mean, you’re not responding the way she’s accustomed to. She hasn’t gotten you to raise your voice or lose your temper. You’ve been polite, forthcoming, and unshakable.”

  “It doesn’t feel like I’m doing well. She talks to me like I’m an imbecile. She acts like I’m lower than scum.”

  Nancy cut in, “That’s her way, and it usually works well for her. She may be getting to you on the inside, but it’s not showing on the outside. That’s all that matters. Just keep it up. Keep your focus. We still have many hours ahead of us, so don’t let your
guard down.”

  Jim checked his watch, “Well ladies, time’s up.”

  CHAPTER 34

  Jenna and her lawyers returned to the conference room and took their assigned seats on the enemy’s turf. The cameraman tersely announced, “We are back on the record. Time is now 10:45 a.m.”

  The red light on the camera flickered. Jenna did her best to ignore it.

  Allison leaned back in her chair and asked Jenna, “Are you aware of the claims that have been made against you by Ms. Hollings?”

  “Yes.”

  Allison’s tone was venomous. “Tell me, Doctor, what are those claims, as you understand them?”

  Jenna felt the weight of Michelle Hollings’ eyes upon her, but refused to look in her direction. Instead, she kept her focus directly on Allison and replied calmly, “As I understand things, Ms. Hollings claims that she contracted hepatitis C during her surgical procedure at St. Augustine. She thinks that I am, at least partially, to blame.”

  “Do you dispute the fact that Michelle Hollings contracted hepatitis C during her surgical procedure at St. Augustine?”

  Jenna spotted the red flag in the question. Her lawyers’ advice was paying off.

  She answered defiantly, “I don’t have any solid evidence to support or refute the claim. At this point, I can’t say with certainty either way.”

  Allison fired back, “Does it upset you that one of your patients contracted hepatitis C?”

  Jenna responded carefully, “My job, as a doctor, is to take excellent care of my patients. I care deeply about what I do and who I care for. If anything unfortunate happens to one of my patients, for whatever reason, it deeply upsets me.”

  “And, in fact, something did happen to one of your patients on January 20, 2010. Michelle Hollings walked into St. Augustine Hospital for a simple, outpatient surgical procedure and walked out with a deadly virus. This happened under your care. Based on what you just said, you are upset about that, correct?”

  Jenna was unwilling to be provoked. She succinctly replied, “It’s upsetting to me that Ms. Hollings has hepatitis C.”

  Allison abruptly shifted gears. “Doctor, didn’t you sign a sworn affidavit stating that it was your usual procedure to draw your drugs up in advance, place them in a drawer of your anesthesia cart, and hide them under various anesthesia supplies? Is that what you did with the drugs intended for Michelle Hollings?”

  In spite of the beta-blocker, Jenna could feel her pulse quicken. She paused for a moment to think about her answer. Jenna knew this question was inevitable, and she had rehearsed her answer many times. Still, she wanted to make sure she did not inadvertently say anything wrong. Jenna took a cleansing breath and a sip of water before she answered.

  “I can’t recall specifically what I did that day. It was over a year ago.”

  “But your affidavit states what you did with drugs. So were you lying then, or are you lying now?” Allison’s lips pursed as she blinked at Jenna.

  Nancy jumped in, “Objection. You are mischaracterizing her testimony, and your tone and accusations are inappropriate. Jenna, you may go ahead and answer the question.”

  The objection gave Jenna the brief amount of time she needed to regain her composure.

  Jenna responded steadily, “Neither. I don’t lie. My affidavit attests to my usual practice. Just because I may do something the same way ninety-nine out of one hundred times, doesn’t mean that there is never an occasion where I may deviate from my common practice. Because I can’t specifically recall the events of that day, I can’t say with one hundred percent certainty that I did things any particular way.”

  “Why would you hide your drugs?” Allison asked indignantly.

  Jenna sucked in a deep breath, buying a precious few seconds, and then evenly stated, “Because in my training I was taught that if narcotics came up missing, the procedure was to call the police, and they would come and question you. Of course, if you did nothing wrong, you’d be cleared, but you still had to go through the ordeal and disgrace of being questioned. I never wanted that to happen to me.”

  “Then you must agree that the operating room is not a secure environment. If it were, how could your drugs go missing? You must have been worried that someone might steal your narcotics?” Allison suppressed a grin, certain this would be her kill shot.

  Jenna shook her head earnestly, “No, it wasn’t that at all. Mostly, I was concerned that if I left them out, either housekeeping or an anesthesia tech might innocently discard them, thinking they were waste.”

  “Tell me . . .” said Allison as she drummed her fingers on the surface of the table. “Tell me specifically about the training you received concerning the handling of controlled substances in medical school and residency.”

  Jenna took a second to assemble her thoughts. “There really wasn’t any formal instruction during either time period of my training. We had pharmacology courses in medical school, but that was it. During residency, there weren’t any formal lectures or in-services instructing us how to handle narcotics. We learned on the job by following the example of our attendings and senior residents. We were expected to have everything prepared before the patient entered the OR, including all of our drugs. It was common practice to leave medications in the OR, either in a drawer or on top of the cart. The OR was considered to be a secure environment.”

  Allison then asked with condemnation, “Who, who specifically led you to believe that the operating room was a secure environment where you could leave controlled substances unlocked and unattended?”

  Jenna kept her cool. “The attending physicians, who were my supervisors and mentors, watched over me like hawks. If it had been inappropriate for me to store my drugs in my anesthesia cart, I would have been reprimanded. I did it that way, and my fellow residents did it that way. It was acceptable practice. The attendings knew what we were doing, and they never advised us otherwise.”

  Allison leaned in closer to Jenna. “Doctor, you didn’t answer my question. I asked you who! Give me a name! Who told you the OR was an environment where you can leave narcotics unlocked and unsecured?”

  “I never left my drugs unlocked and unsecured. My drugs were in a secure environment.”

  Allison countered, her frustration escalating, “And again, I know that is your mantra, but that’s not what I am asking. Tell me a name of an attending, a mentor, anyone who would say that your practice regarding the storage of narcotics was acceptable.”

  “I can give you the names of the attendings that I can remember, if that’s what you want.”

  “Please do,” replied Allison snidely.

  Jenna searched her memory. “Well, there was Dr. Brad Thomas, Dr. Bob Watkins, Dr. Jim Bloom, Dr. Bonnie Monroe. That’s all I can remember off the top of my head. It was over ten years ago that I trained.”

  Allison then asked, “Are you telling me that any of these doctors that you just named, doctors that were involved in your training during residency, would be happy to testify, under oath, that the operating room is a secure environment where it is acceptable to leave narcotics unattended?”

  Jenna responded with a hint of agitation. She was starting to slip. “I can’t tell you what somebody would or would not say under oath, but I can tell you that, if they told the truth, they would agree with my testimony. As to whether or not they would be happy to come and testify in front of you or a court, I don’t think anybody would be happy about having to do that.”

  Before Allison could fire her next question, Jenna quickly added, “I’d like to take a break now.”

  Allison commanded, “No, we are not taking a break! I still have questions!”

  Nancy jumped to Jenna’s defense, “Allison, there are no questions pending. If my client needs a break, she is entitled to a break.”

  “Your client,” Allison scoffed, “has wasted a great deal of time reciting her mantra and evading my questions. I still have questions. We can break in a few minutes.”

  Jenna’s bladd
er was painfully distended. Not only did Jenna need an emotional break, but she also seriously needed to relieve herself. Annoyed that Allison Anders was changing the rules midstream, and certain that it was completely inappropriate, Jenna spoke up with determination.

  “You said in the beginning that I could take a break whenever I needed one. I answered your last question. I’m requesting a break. I have to use the restroom . . . badly. I need a break, and I’m taking one. Now!”

  Jenna stood and was already at the door by the time Allison was able to respond. Jim and Nancy were right behind her. Left behind at the table, Allison pouted. Throwing her hands up in the air, she said, “Fine, let’s take a break. Why not make it a lunch break while we’re at it? We’ll meet back here in thirty minutes.”

  A smirk crept across Jenna’s face as she punched the button for the elevator.

  CHAPTER 35

  Jenna, Jim, and Nancy rode the elevator in silence down to the ground floor and headed to the building’s café. Jenna quickly used the restroom and then joined Jim and Nancy at the deli counter. Her attorneys each grabbed themselves a sandwich. Jenna felt mildly nauseated, and the prepackaged food was enormously unappealing. Nancy knew Jenna needed something in her stomach to sustain her for the afternoon. In a motherly tone, she said, “At least grab a salad or some chips. You need to eat.” Obediently, Jenna chose a Caesar salad and went to find a table where they could be alone.

  While she waited for Jim and Nancy to pay the cashier, Jenna inconspicuously swallowed another beta-blocker. The pill Jenna had taken earlier that morning had helped her keep her cool, but she could feel its effects beginning to wear off. Jim and Nancy each sat on opposite sides of Jenna.