It's Nothing Personal Read online

  Jenna looked at her lawyers and unloaded. “That woman,” Jenna said with unbridled fury, “is a cunt! And trust me, I don’t use that term indiscriminately!”

  Jenna was careful not to say the word too loudly. It was not her style to use such extreme vulgarity, but in this situation, she felt it was justified.

  Neither of her lawyers reacted to Jenna’s swearword with disapproval or judgment. Nancy simply nodded, as she replied matter-of-factly, “Yes, she is.”

  Jenna continued to rant, her face contorted with rage. “How can she act like that? First of all, who is she to tell me that I can’t go to the bathroom? I obeyed her every rule, exactly how she laid them out, and she has the nerve to forbid me from peeing? Is she really that petty and immature?” Jenna was livid.

  Jim spoke up, “That was clearly out of line on her part, and she knew it. But you handled it beautifully. You remained calm, you threw her rules right back in her face, and you refused to be held hostage. In fact, I think her little spat back there shows that you are getting to her.

  “Overall, Jenna, your deposition is going exceptionally well. There haven’t been any major blunders. You’ve been polite, kept your answers brief, and haven’t shown any hint of being intimidated. Just keep it up.”

  “Seriously?” Jenna craved their reassurance.

  “Trust us,” replied Nancy, “you’re doing great.”

  The three of them sat quietly at the table. While Jim and Nancy devoured their sandwiches, Jenna pushed her wilted lettuce back and forth with a plastic fork. At Nancy’s insistence, she took a couple of nibbles, but that was all. She felt like they had just taken their seats when Jim checked the time.

  “We’ve got about eight minutes before we need to go back up there. Jenna, would you like to go outside and get some fresh air?”

  Jenna felt frozen, like her muscles would not budge.

  Jim touched her shoulder. “Jenna?”

  Her body shuddered as she broke out of her spell. “Huh? Yeah, sounds great,” she said, anxious to escape of the confines of the building.

  The three of them stood outside while the midday sun cast short shadows on the ground. Jenna was quiet and lost in thought. So much so that she did not notice Michelle Hollings walk past them and head to the parking lot, with car keys in her hand.

  Jim pointed it out. “Looks like Ms. Hollings won’t be joining us for the afternoon session.”

  “Maybe she’s got some shopping to do with her newly acquired wealth,” said Jenna contemptuously.

  CHAPTER 36

  Their thirty-minute reprieve came to an end, and the threesome took the elevators back up to the sixth floor. Jenna marched past the receptionist and entered the conference room. Allison walked in behind them looking extremely uptight and ready for an ambush. Jenna scrutinized her adversary. Allison held her head high, her mouth was in a grimace, and her eyes were menacing.

  The revolting cameraman once again acknowledged that they were back on record. He then flopped into his leather chair and leaned back as if he were watching his favorite sports team.

  Allison had not yet scooted in her chair when she resumed her interrogation of Jenna. “Dr. Reiner, are you familiar with the DEA rules and regulations concerning the dispensing, handling, storage, security, and administration of controlled substances?”

  Jenna inhaled and responded, “I’m aware that there are DEA guidelines.”

  Allison did not blink as she scowled at Jenna. Her words were loud and unnaturally slow, like she was communicating with a foreigner. “Let me repeat my question, because you failed to answer it. This time, I’d like a direct answer. Dr. Reiner, are you familiar with the DEA rules and regulations concerning the dispensing, handling, storage, security, and administration of controlled substances that would apply to you as an anesthesiologist in the operating room?”

  Jenna reminded herself to stay calm and maintain a slow, even tone.

  Refusing to shy away from Allison’s penetrating gaze, Jenna rested her arms on the table and leaned slightly closer to her nemesis. “I know that the guidelines are overwhelmingly vast, comprising thousands of pages of documentation. Furthermore, most of the guidelines apply to hospitals, doctors’ offices, and pharmacies where medications are stored – not to individual practitioners.”

  Allison clutched her pen tightly between her thumb and index finger as she attacked Jenna with the same question, for the third time. “So your answer is ‘no’? You don’t have any familiarity with the DEA guidelines as they pertain to you as an anesthesiologist?”

  Jenna remained still, her back straight, and her eyes wide and attentive.

  “It is impractical to expect that I would be intimately familiar with the DEA guidelines. I feel it is reasonable and legitimate to rely upon the hospital administration, through their policies and procedures, to guide me in such a way that I am in compliance.”

  Allison let out a theatrical sigh and asked Jenna with reproach, “Dr. Reiner, do you understand that your evasive answers and failure to answer questions directly can be pointed out to a jury at trial?”

  Nancy interrupted, “Objection, form and argumentative.”

  Toying with Allison Anders was a dangerous endeavor. However, the glimmer in Jenna’s eyes exposed the fact that she was beginning to enjoy frustrating the attorney. Jenna turned her head in Allison’s direction. With the front of her face out of view of the camera, Jenna batted her eyelashes before answering.

  When Jenna responded to the accusation, her face was full of innocence and sincerity. “Truly, I’m not trying to be evasive. I’m just trying to be honest and make sure that I explain myself.”

  Allison snorted in exasperation. “Dr. Reiner, do you have any specific knowledge regarding any specific rule or regulation from the DEA, other than what you infer from hospital policy?”

  Jenna felt slight defeat, but she was not about to let it show. Without any hint of humiliation or regret, she said, “No.”

  Allison hastily changed the direction of the conversation. “Doctor, how do you keep up to date with your profession?”

  Jenna was inwardly grateful for a lighter topic. “I go to medical conferences, I read textbooks, and I look up things on the Internet.”

  “When was the last medical conference that you attended?”

  Jenna sensed this was leading up to something, but she was not yet sure what. Treading carefully, she answered, “This past January.”

  “Which specific websites do you get your information from?”

  “No website in particular.”

  Jenna was starting to grasp Allison’s tactics. Allison reveled in starting with simple, seemingly innocuous questions. Questions that Jenna had no reason to fear and no reason to hesitate before answering. Then Allison would try to keep her responding quickly, in hopes of preventing her from thinking things through. All the while, the questions became increasingly perilous. To her credit, Jenna was fighting back. She refused to let Allison set the pace, and it was effective.

  “So you don’t know any of the websites you reference for your medical knowledge? Wikipedia, perhaps?” Allison ridiculed Jenna. At the other end of the room, the cameraman snickered.

  “No, I do not get my medical knowledge from Wikipedia,” Jenna snapped. Although she wanted nothing more than to dive across the table and gouge Allison’s eyes out, she never let it show.

  “I usually Google a topic and then browse through the search results, so it varies.”

  “Do you read newspapers?”

  Jenna was perplexed as to what that had to do with anything. “I peruse the news websites, if that’s what you mean.”

  “Are you aware of any stories where nurses, doctors, or other health-care workers have drug-addiction issues and have diverted drugs at hospitals?”

  Jenna promptly understood the objective behind Allison’s media question. Taking a second to collect her thoughts, she proceeded with vigilance.

  “I think everybody in the health-care fi
eld has heard stories about people stealing drugs. It’s pretty much urban legend. That being said, I have never heard stories about people stealing drugs and doing what Hillary Martin allegedly did. Before this story broke, I would never have conceived that someone would have stolen drugs, replaced them with contaminated syringes, and ultimately infected patients.”

  “Do you feel like you have a duty to prevent the diversion of narcotics?”

  Not a question that Jenna had anticipated, she was unsure how to respond. She sensed the word “duty” was a snare. Although her palms were becoming damp, she did not dare wipe them dry. Swallowing hard, Jenna answered, “No, I don’t feel that I have a duty to prevent diversion of narcotics.”

  Allison responded with a scornful tone. “You don’t feel as if you have any duty, any responsibility whatsoever, to make sure someone doesn’t steal your drugs?”

  The room was soundless and the air heavy as all eyes bore down on Jenna.

  She responded with composure and grace. “My duty is to provide anesthesia care for my patients. I have a duty to be prepared for and handle intraoperative and perioperative events, whether the events are anticipated or emergent. My duty, my focus, and my responsibilities revolve around patient care. Just as it is not my duty, or my designated role, to mop the floors, it is also not my duty to be focused on the prevention of drug diversion.”

  “Doctor, are you aware that St. Augustine Hospital reported they had ten separate incidents of narcotic theft in the twelve months prior to January 2010?”

  “No,” replied Jenna, expressionless.

  Allison called up a document on her laptop. Reading from the screen, she asked, “Are you aware that one of these thefts involved the diversion of fifteen syringes of Fentanyl by a floor nurse? Another theft involved twenty tablets of Oxycontin that were taken from the top of a medication cart. In yet another case, a staff member from St. Augustine was found in a break room of the hospital with several vials of Fentanyl in front of her and several more confiscated from her locker. Were you aware of any of these diversions?”

  “No.”

  “Do you think you should just remain in the dark when it comes to diversions at your hospital? Does that absolve you from the responsibility to assist in preventing future diversions? You see no evil, so you expect no evil. Is that how you operate?”

  Nancy interjected, “Object to form.”

  Jenna shifted in her chair. The skin on the back of her legs peeled away from the leather as Jenna crossed them.

  “I don’t see myself as remaining in the dark, so I can’t answer your question if it’s based upon that premise.”

  Allison’s tone was becoming steadily more insulting. She furrowed her brow and said, “You told me a few minutes ago that, in your wildest dreams, you could never think that someone would divert Fentanyl and substitute it with a syringe containing saline. Isn’t that true?”

  Nancy objected, “Objection, misstates her testimony.”

  Jenna jumped on Nancy’s lead. “That is not what I said. I stated that before Hillary Martin and this ordeal came to light, I would never have imagined, based on my previous knowledge and experience, that someone would do something so sinister. I would never have thought that a member of the OR staff would have been so evil as to steal a syringe intended for a patient and replace it with a contaminated syringe, knowing that the contaminated syringe would then be used on a patient. There is a big difference between substituting a syringe for one containing sterile saline and one contaminated with hepatitis C.”

  “Doctor, are you aware there is an anesthesia journal published by the American Society of Anesthesiologists?”

  The way she said “Doctor” made Jenna’s skin crawl. It sounded like an accusation, like Jenna was an imposter.

  “To which journal, specifically, are you referring? There are several.”

  Allison’s voice became tense. “It’s called ‘Anesthesiology.’”

  Recognizing the testiness in her rival, Jenna responded unpretentiously, “Yes, I’m aware of it.”

  Jenna straightened her posture and folded her hands in her lap. Every muscle in her neck and shoulders was tight. She longed to crack her neck and relieve some of the tension, but she resisted the urge.

  “Do you receive the journal?”

  “No,” replied Jenna.

  “You don’t? I would think as a member of the American Society of Anesthesiologists, you would receive that publication just like every other member.”

  For a fraction of an instant, Jenna shifted her gaze downward. “I’m not a member of the ASA.”

  “You’re a practicing anesthesiologist, and you’re not a member of your professional society?”

  Heat rose up Jenna’s neck, as she explained, “No, I’m not. My husband is cheap, and the dues are expensive. It never seemed necessary.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, Jenna saw Nancy grin at her answer.

  “Are you aware,” Allison continued, undeterred, “that in 2008, there was an article titled ‘Addiction and Substance Abuse in Anesthesiology’ published by the ASA? In that article, they state that the power of the disease of addiction and the need for the drug is so overwhelmingly strong, that otherwise reasonable and intelligent people will resort to seemingly incredulous behavior in order to obtain their drug of choice. Would you agree with that statement?”

  Jenna stalled before answering, reminding herself of the ground rules of this game.

  “I wouldn’t agree or disagree. I would need to read the article in its entirety and take time to think about it.”

  Allison appeared unfazed. “The article also says that addicts may substitute a syringe containing their drug of choice for one containing saline or a mixture of Lidocaine and Esmolol during a relief break. Have you ever heard that before?”

  “No,” said Jenna. “And I’d like to take a break.”

  CHAPTER 37

  The threesome strode outside on to the front steps of the building. Jenna drew in a deep breath of the summer air. She felt like she were being released from jail and tasting freedom for the first time in years. Jim sensed her discontent. Standing in front of his client, he placed his arms on her shoulders and grinned.

  Jenna, perplexed by Jim’s expression, stood still.

  Jim exclaimed, “Jenna, you are doing great! I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but it’s actually been fun to watch. I have never seen anyone get under Allison Anders’ skin before. Never. You heeded our advice, and it shows. My guess is we’re headed for the home stretch, so keep up your focus just a little while longer. I’m being completely honest when I tell you that you are doing better than any of your colleagues have done against Allison.”

  Jenna shifted her focus to Nancy. With her arms folded across her chest, she asked, “What do you think? And don’t lie to me.”

  Nancy chuckled, “I wouldn’t lie to you, it’s not my style. Not even to protect your feelings. Everything Jim said is true, especially the part about it being fun to watch.”

  Jenna wrinkled her forehead. Unconvinced, she confessed, “I can feel myself getting snippy with her. And even though I know it’s unwise, I have to admit that I can’t help messing with her when I get the chance. I’m trying to keep it as subtle as possible, but every little dig helps to keep me going.”

  Nancy replied with kindness, “Jenna, I think your version of a dig differs radically from what people like Allison Anders might think. Yes, I can see you pausing before each question, but not excessively, and it’s keeping you focused. It’s also pissing her off, which is great. What you are doing is not out of line. The little jabs you have gotten in on her have been pulled off with innocence and poise. In fact, most times it has taken Allison several moments to realize she’s been hit. Keep doing what you’ve been doing all day. We’re almost there.”

  Jenna nodded. Knowing the break was over, she pulled in one last breath of fresh air and followed Jim and Nancy back into the building. Jenna prayed this would be th
e last time the three of them made the death march back to the enemy’s chambers.

  In the conference room, Allison was already seated and impatiently tapping her pen on the table.

  Jim and Nancy entered the conference room through the front door and quickly took their seats. Nancy explained Jenna’s absence, “Dr. Reiner is using the restroom and will be here shortly.”

  Moments later, Jenna entered through the back door. No one seemed to notice her presence. Jim and Nancy were huddled over Jim’s laptop, and Allison was sorting through a stack of documents.

  Standing behind the cameraman, Jenna poured herself a glass of water. The sound of fluid striking the glass filled the room. The cameraman looked at Allison as he repugnantly said, “Well, I hope that’s not her behind me, urinating on the floor.” He snorted at his own joke. Allison worked to suppress a grin.

  Jenna returned to her seat and slammed her glass down on the table, creating a thud that caught Allison’s attention. Water sloshed over onto the tabletop. Allison peered down at the mess, wrinkling her nose at the small puddle. Jenna refused to wipe it up.

  The entire room had heard the remark, but nobody acknowledged it. Jenna glared at the brash man seated behind the camera, refusing to take her eyes off of him. For a few minutes, he returned Jenna’s stare, but then he grew uncomfortable and looked away.

  Pretending to adjust his equipment, the man announced, “Time is now 3:10 p.m., and we are back on record.” The red light clicked on, signaling that combat was to recommence.

  Allison stopped tapping her pen and held it to her mouth.

  “In January 2010, at St. Augustine hospital, was there a mechanism to lock up your drugs?”

  “No.”

  “Do you think that you had any reason to foresee that there would be a healthcare worker diverting drugs in the OR?”

  Jenna had tired of Allison’s questions. While Jenna considered her response, she briefly allowed her mind to wander. Jenna envisioned Allison as a blonde-haired dragon, constantly encircling Jenna, and snorting flames at her. All Jenna could do was continue to jump out of the fire’s path. She was growing weak, however, and the flames were getting dangerously close.