It's Nothing Personal (23 page)

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Authors: Sherry Gorman MD

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There was no way Jenna was going to
relinquish that much control to the enemy.

Jim steepled his fingers in front of his
face as he contemplated Jenna’s request.
 
“Well, there’s no rule that says we can’t leave.
 
We never have before, but if it makes
you more comfortable, we can go down into the lobby or even outside.”

Jenna’s face grew red with anger.
 
The room was silent as her lawyers
watched her.
 
Jenna glared at them
and smacked her palms on the table.
 
“There’s no way I’m talking about
my
secrets on
their
territory.”

Jim and Nancy were left speechless.

Attempting to steer the meeting back to more
productive matters, Jim handed Jenna a pile of documents.

“All the documents that you see here are
what we have provided to Anders.
 
During your deposition, she’s going to ask you about each of these.
 
It’s all stuff you’ve seen before.
 
I don’t anticipate any major landmines
here.
 
Just make sure you look
through these before Friday so they are fresh in your mind, okay?”

“Will do,” Jenna replied, still rattled
after her outburst.

Jim continued, “One of the most important
topics that will inevitably come up is how you stored your narcotics.
 
Our defense is going to depend on
proving that your drugs were stored in a secure environment.
 
As we’ve mentioned before, the DEA rules
for narcotic storage are vague.
 
The
guidelines use the terms ‘locked’ and ‘secured,’ but they don’t adequately
define what qualifies as such.
 
Whenever you hear Anders say ‘unlocked and unsecured,’ your immediate
response should be that your drugs were secured.
 
Do not deviate from this answer, no
matter how many times and how many ways she asks you.”

“Got it, my drugs were secured.
 
The operating room was considered to be
a secure environment and, by storing my drugs within that environment, they
were secured.”
 
Jenna repeated the
statement, making sure she said it correctly.

Jim and Nancy smiled at her like proud
parents.
 
Nancy simply said,
“Perfect.”

“Are there any more traps to watch out for?”
Jenna asked.

“Just one,” Nancy said.
 
“Anders might bring up the possibility
of punitive damages.”

Jenna put her pen down and asked, “What are
punitive damages?”

“That’s where, under extraordinary
circumstances, they not only sue you within the limits of your malpractice
policy, but they also sue you personally.”

Jenna’s heart started to race.
 
“You mean they could take my personal
possessions?”

Nancy tried to console her.
 
“Before you get too worked up, let me
explain.
 
In order to prove their
case for punitive damages, they would have to show that you acted with willful
and wanton disregard for the safety of Michelle Hollings.
 
Hillary Martin’s actions meet the
criteria for punitive damages, but yours definitely do not.”

“So, it’s just an empty threat designed to
scare me?”

Nancy responded, “Yes, so don’t let it upset
you if she brings it up.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Jenna was beginning to come to terms with
the rules of this game.
 
This was
not a gathering of civilized, educated professionals in a room trying to get to
the truth.
 
Quite the contrary, this
was a firing squad, where the bullets were in the form of words.
 
Success, it seemed, would be measured
not by victory, but by lack of defeat.
 

Sensing their meeting was over, Jenna stood
to leave.
 
Jim pushed his glasses up
on his nose and gestured for her to sit back down.

“We have one last issue to discuss.”

Jenna took her seat.
 
The subdued expression on her lawyers’
faces startled her.
 
The room was
quiet.
 
Neither Jim nor Nancy could
look directly at Jenna.
 
Jim rubbed
his forehead as he struggled to find the best way to tell her the news.
 
After concluding that there was no best
way, he finally spoke.
 

“We wanted to let you know that St.
Augustine settled with Michelle Hollings.”

“They settled?” shrieked Jenna.
 
“When?
 
Why?”

“We found out yesterday.
 
Apparently, the settlement occurred last
week.
 
The exact amount and terms
are undisclosed and confidential.”

“I’m sure it was a huge amount,” said Jenna
indignantly.

“I’m sure you’re right,” said Jim.
 
“I can only speculate, but I think it’s
safe to assume that Ms. Hollings is set for life, both financially and with
respect to medical care.”

“So, they got their stack
of money, and they still want me?
 
Why?
 
Why would it be worth
it to them to pursue me?”

Jim, ashamed of this particular side of his
profession, said regretfully, “They want all they can get, every last penny.”

“Why do you think St. Augustine settled?”
Jenna asked, rubbing her temples.

Jim’s body stiffened.
 
He carefully considered his
options.
 
After several moments of
introspection and uncomfortable silence, he decided to tell Jenna the
truth.
 
She deserved nothing less.

He lowered his voice, “What I’m about to
tell you never leaves this room.
 
Are we clear?”

Jenna suspected Jim was about to divulge a
very dangerous secret.
 
She was
right.

“Yes, absolutely.
 
I won’t tell anyone.”
 
She inched her chair closer to the table
and leaned forward.

“When Hillary Martin was deposed in front of
the federal prosecutor after her plea agreement, she admitted she shared
syringes of Fentanyl with others in her social circle.
 
These people could have had hepatitis,
HIV – you name it.
 
The
investigation has only focused on identifying those patients that have
hepatitis C with a viral DNA sequence matching that of Hillary Martin’s.
 
However, many other patients turned up
to be hep C positive, just not with Martin’s exact viral sequence.
 
So far, St. Augustine has only taken
responsibility for a select few.
 
Lucky
for the hospital, the court has sealed her deposition, but they know what
Hillary Martin said in her testimony.
 
They also know the repercussions if this information ever leaked out.”

“They need to bury this as quickly as
possible,” Jenna concluded.
 
The
game had become much more dangerous.
 
Jenna’s blood turned cold, and her hair stood on end.

Nancy replied, “It’s in their best interest
to do so.”

“So what’s in
my
best interest?” Jenna asked, outraged.

“For now,” said Jim, “I think we should
continue to fight.
 
We have a
defendable case.
 
If things change,
we’ll discuss it.
 
For us to settle
now would be premature.”

CHAPTER 33

 

June
24, 2011

 

The alarm clock sounded at 4 a.m. on the day
of Jenna’s deposition.
 
Jenna threw
on her jogging clothes, and she and her dog quietly left her house.
 
Outside was dark and quiet.
 
The rest of the world was sleeping.
 
Jenna took comfort in the sound of her
feet hitting the pavement.
 
She
looked down at Ginger, running faithfully at her side.
 

“Well, girl,” Jenna said as much to Ginger
as to herself, “today’s the big day.
 
Think I’ll do okay?”
 
Ginger
looked up at her owner affectionately and wagged her tail in response to
Jenna’s words.
 
Jenna convinced
herself that the tail wagging was a sign.
 
Even her dog thought she would survive the battle.

Jenna continued her run and soon sweat
soaked her hair and shirt.
 
Fueled
by adrenaline and nervous energy, her pace was considerably faster than usual.

By the time Jenna got home, the sun was
beginning to rise.
 
She paused to
enjoy the glory of the pinks, blues, and purples of the morning sky as the
enormous, orange sun peeked over the horizon.
 
She bent down and kissed the top of
Ginger’s head.
 
“Everything’s going
to be okay, girl.
 
I promise.
 
Everything’s going to be okay.”
 
Like earlier that morning, the words
were for her own sake.

Jenna showered and dressed in the plain,
black skirt and cashmere cardigan that she had bought for the occasion.
 
Mia watched her mother do her hair and
makeup.
 
When Jenna was ready to
leave, both Tom and Mia gave her big, tight hugs.
 

Mia said, “You look really pretty,
Mommy.
 
I bet you’re prettier than
that mean lawyer woman.”

Jenna giggled at the sweetness of her
daughter’s compliment.
 
“I don’t
know about prettier, but I bet I’m nicer!”

Tom looked at his wife.
 
He could sense Jenna’s inner tension,
but he was proud at how well composed she appeared.
 
“You’ll do great.
 
Jim and Nancy will take care of you.
 
Stay strong, and don’t let that bitch
win!”
 

Jenna moved forward to kiss Tom goodbye and
whispered, “Thanks.”

At exactly 8:20, Jenna parked her car on a
side street near Allison Anders’ office building.
 
She had taken a beta-blocker on the
drive over, in hopes of dulling her nerves.
 
On her walk toward the building, she
could feel the effects of the medication.
 
Her hands weren’t shaking, her pulse was slow, and she felt calm without
feeling sedated.
 
Without her
adrenaline surging, Jenna was much more able to focus.

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.

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