It's Nothing Personal (13 page)

Completely at ease, Nancy spoke candidly.
 
“Jenna is not your typical doctor, not by
any stretch of the imagination.
 
For
the past twenty years, how many doctors have we seen who have been thrust into
the role of defendant?
 
Hundreds?
 
Of those, I can’t remember one that
hasn’t arrived dressed professionally, like they would for their clinic
days.
 
Most of them exude confidence
– usually too much so.
 
They
try to take control of the meeting, dictate its course.
 
When asked direct questions, they give
away very little information and certainly nothing more than is absolutely
necessary.
 
Honesty doesn’t always
come easily to a doctor whose medical license is on the line.”

Jim reflected on some of the more pompous
physicians he and Nancy had defended over the years.
 
She was right.
 
Many of them were distasteful.

Nancy continued, “Jenna, on the other hand,
is completely unassuming.
 
She shows
up wearing khaki capris, a modest T-shirt, and strappy sandals.
 
If I met her in public, the last thing
I’d guess about her is that she’s a physician.
 
I like her humility and her honesty.
 
You asked her how she’s doing, and she
let you know.”

“I agree,” responded Jim.
 
“She didn’t seem to hold anything
back.
 
It was refreshing.”

Nancy rubbed her temples, straining not to
forget a single impression.
 
“Right
now, I think she’s scared out of her mind.
 
I get the feeling that she is barely holding it together.
 
The way her voice quivered when she
spoke and her unsteady hands tells me she’s close to the edge.
 
At times, she almost seemed like an
abused dog, you know?
 
Like when you
reach out to show her kindness, her instinct is to pull back before she gets
smacked.”

“I picked up on that, too,” Jim said.
 
“I don’t think she ever imagined finding
herself facing this type of situation, and I think she’s overwhelmed.
 
On the other hand, I do believe she is
one of the more virtuous physicians we’ve met in a while.
 
Of course, her instinct is
self-preservation, but she doesn’t forget the others involved.
 
I think in spite of what she fears for
herself, a big part of her grieves for the patient.”

Nancy nodded as she leaned back in her
chair, nibbling on the tip of her pen.
 
“I see things the same way.
 
It’s obvious Jenna feels genuinely awful about her patient becoming
infected.”

“It sure is,” Jim said, taking off his
reading glasses and placing them on the table.
 
Unbuttoning the cuffs on his shirt, he
rolled up his sleeves while he reflected on the doctor.
 
After a few moments, he put his
spectacles back on and said thoughtfully, “Jenna’s an interesting contradiction
of vulnerability and feistiness.
 
I
think we are going to have to be very careful how we deal with her throughout
this lawsuit.
 
I wouldn’t go so far
as to call her fragile.
 
She never
would have survived the rigors of medical school and residency if she had
paper-thin skin.
 
I only hope we can
exploit her inner strength.”

“Me too.”
 
Nancy stretched her arms above her head
and yawned.

Jim smiled warmly at his colleague and
trusted friend.
 
“Why don’t we call
it a night?
 
Tell your husband I’m
sorry for keeping you late.
 
I owe him
a beer.”

Nancy laughed as she stood to leave.
 
“He’s keeping track, Jim.
 
At this point, you owe him a brewery.”

CHAPTER 17

Over the course of several weeks, Jenna
became increasingly glum.
 
One
night, after Mia had gone to sleep, Tom found Jenna huddled up on the couch,
her head resting on Ginger’s soft fur.
 
The only light in the room came from the muted television.
 
Tom sat next to Jenna, but she did not
notice his presence.
 
He reached
over and took her hand.
 
Only then
did she lift her head.

“Jenna, are you going to be okay?”

“I don’t know.”

Tom’s patience was fading.
 
He had tired of Jenna’s sulking.
 
In his mind, her period of mourning
needed to come to a conclusion.

Exasperated, Tom said,
 
“I don’t understand why you are
internalizing this so much.
 
You
should be
pissed
.
 
I mean,
REALLY PISSED
!
 
Some
sick, drug-addicted skank decides that not only is she going to steal your
drugs to get high, but she’s also going to leave her dirty virus in a syringe
to be used on patients.
 
I bet
Hillary Martin probably sat there and watched you and the other doctors push
the plunger.
 
Maybe that gave her a
rise, too.”

“Tom,” Jenna shouted, losing control, “I’m
not you!
 
Just because you would get
pissed off, doesn’t mean I’d do the same!
 
I’m too sad to be angry right now.”

He barked back, “Jenna, I’m sick of it.
 
You’re like a ghost.
 
You barely talk to me.
 
We hardly even touch.
 
You go through the motions of being a
mother, and that’s it.
 
Mia misses
you.
 
She’s been crying herself to
sleep lately, wanting to know when you’ll be happy again.
 
Honestly, I don’t have an answer for
her.
 
I can’t stand watching you
mope around all the time.
 
You need
to realize that you did not commit this crime!
 
If you keep it up and continue to carry
on this way, people are going to start to think that maybe you
are
guilty.
 
You better snap out of it.
 
If you don’t, you are going to screw
yourself and, very possibly, our family!”

The thought of her daughter sobbing every
night upset Jenna more than anything else Tom had said.
 
His selfish inference to their waning
sex life infuriated her.
 
Feeling
anger build up inside her, Jenna was grateful that Mia was a sound sleeper, and
her bedroom door was shut.

Her upper lip curled, and she snarled, “Tom,
how could you possibly understand anything about this?
 
You have never had someone else’s life
in your hands!
 
You didn’t invest
over twelve years trudging through college, medical school, and residency, just
to end up here!
 
I’ve been accused
of doing something that could end up killing an innocent person.
 
Tell me, how could you possibly relate
to that?
 
So am I angry about
it?
 
Absolutely!
 
But mostly I’m hurt, devastated,
ashamed, humiliated, sorry, and petrified.
 
Every bad thing you could imagine – that’s what I feel.
 
Don’t you dare tell me how to act!
 
What I need, more than anything, is for
you to listen, let me cry, and let me vent.
 
Most of all, I need you to make me feel
protected.”

Without saying another word, Jenna stood,
stormed into their bedroom, and slammed the door shut.
 
It was the first time she had ever
walked out on Tom.
 
Her heart
pounded in her chest.
 
Jenna went
into their bathroom and examined her reflection in the mirror.
 
She was a shadow of her former
self.
 
Her eyes were perpetually
bloodshot, and her face was tarnished by a seemingly permanent frown.
 
Jenna reached into the top drawer and
pulled out her bottle of Ambien.
 
She
twisted off the top and flung it carelessly onto the floor.
 
Turning the bottle to the side, Jenna
tapped out three of the tablets – triple her usual dose – and downed
them with a gulp of water.
 
She
stood gazing into the mirror, sobbing, as the pills eventually took
effect.
 
The room began to spin, and
objects became fuzzy.
 
Like a
drunken sailor, she staggered to her bed, fell on top of it, and passed
out.
 
Jenna slept in her
clothes.
 
Tom never joined her that
night.

The next morning, she woke up feeling hazy
and confused.
 
With the residual
Ambien still coursing through her bloodstream, Jenna forced herself to get
ready for work.
 
She showered,
dressed, softly kissed Mia goodbye as she slept, and then left the house
without speaking to Tom.
 

Jenna stopped at Starbucks, bought two cups
of coffee, and drove to work in silence.
 
When she pulled into the parking lot of the hospital, she had absolutely
no recollection of the drive.
 

CHAPTER 18

In spite of two more cups of coffee between
cases, at lunchtime Jenna remained lethargic.
 
There was a short gap before her next
case, and she seized the opportunity to grab some food.
 
While waiting for an elevator, she heard
a woman calling her name.
 

“Hey, Jenna, wait up.”
 

Jenna instantly recognized the cheerful
voice.
 
It was Katharine
Harper.
 
Katharine and Jenna had
been friends since medical school.
 
Although Katharine chose to specialize in critical care medicine and
Jenna in anesthesiology, the women had remained chummy throughout their
careers.
 
Katharine Harper was
driven to succeed.
 
Although she was
an African American woman in a field dominated by Caucasian males, from the
beginning of her career Katharine had set out to prove herself.
 
However, years spent within the confines
of the hospital had added gray hair to her head and extra weight to her
mid-section.
 
Even so, she had an
easy-going nature and a twinkle in her wide, brown eyes that drew people
in.
 
To Jenna, Katharine’s appeal
was her bright personality and her unshakable integrity.

After years of hard work, Katharine had achieved
the position of Medical Staff President of St. Augustine.
 

Jenna was certain that Katharine knew about
Michelle Hollings.
 
After all,
Katharine had been intimately involved with the Hillary Martin scandal from its
onset.
 
Jenna’s shame brought on a
burning sensation in the pit of her stomach.
 

In an instant, Katharine was behind Jenna
with her warm, soft hand on Jenna’s shoulder.
 
Jenna inhaled, attempted a smile, and
turned to face her colleague.
 
At
that moment, the elevator doors opened, and both doctors stepped inside.
 
The doors shut, and it was only the two
of them.
 
Katharine looked at Jenna
with compassion and asked softly, “Is something wrong?”

The walls were closing in on Jenna.
 
“Of course not.
 
I just didn’t sleep very well last night.
 
Tom and I got into a fight.”

“Did you kick his butt?” Katharine teased,
jabbing Jenna lightly in the ribs.

The elevator doors opened, and Jenna’s eyes
filled with tears.
 
Before she could
get away, Katharine grabbed her hand and said, “Walk with me.”

Jenna, stunned by Katharine’s brash gesture,
did as she was told.
 
Katharine
escorted Jenna outside.
 
It was late
summer, and the air was still warm and enticing.
 
Katharine pulled her over to a wrought
iron bench situated below a maple tree, full of green leaves that rustled in
the breeze.
 

Glancing around nervously, Jenna was
relieved to see they were alone.
 
Katharine
was staring at her.
 
Jenna wanted to
look away but, out of respect, she could not.
 
Then Katharine said the words that Jenna
feared, “Jenna, I know.”

“You know what?” Jenna asked
innocently.
 

“Jenna, I know every doctor out there who
has an infected patient.
 
I’ve seen
the list, I know that you’re on it, and I’m so sorry.
 
I meant to call, but I’d much rather
talk to you in person.
 
You don’t
look so good, my friend.”

In response to Katharine’s observation,
Jenna turned her head.
 
She could
not allow Katharine to see her tears.
 
However, the sound of her whimpers gave her away.
 
Katharine spun Jenna around.
 
Jenna raised her hands to her face,
attempting to hide her shame.

She quivered, “I’m not supposed to talk to
you or anyone else about this.
 
Only
my attorneys and Tom.”

“Well,” said Katharine authoritatively, “I’m
here to tell you – screw that.
 
You’re a mess.
 
You look like
crap.
 
This is obviously weighing on
you.
 
Heavily
.
 
From what I
see, it doesn’t look like your lawyers or your husband are all that you
need.
 
Right now, you also need a
good friend, someone who truly gets it.