19. Cole
19
COLE
T he room was tense before I even walked in. I knew what was at stake. If Twin Peaks thought for even a second that they would be found guilty in this lawsuit, which was definitely going forward now, they were going to scapegoat me. After one nurse spoke up—probably afraid for her own career—saying I was negligent, I knew where this was headed.
I lowered myself into the seat next to my malpractice insurance mitigator. I had shopped around for a good lawyer, but I still hadn't found one I trusted. The hospital's lawyers were sharks, but they weren't defending me. They were defending the hospital against the bad press and the mark to the hospital's reputation. They were decent guys and probably hated what this would do to my career, but they had one job—protect Twin Peaks.
The eyes of several board members never even turned in my direction once. They all knew what they were doing to me, and they all knew it was morally wrong. This hospital system had billions of dollars to back them, hundreds of thousands of men and women employed for them who depended on the work they did every day to provide for their families. I was just one person with my own life on the line, and instead of standing as a rampart between me and my impending doom, they sloughed it off onto my shoulders.
"Mr. Hastings?—"
"That's Dr. Hastings," the mitigator corrected, but he didn't fool me, either. He was the man sent by my insurance company, but even he wasn't here to defend me. He was here to mitigate the loss the insurance company would have in the way of payouts because of me. Then they'd hike up my premiums and I'd be unable to pay them or find work anywhere.
"Dr. Hastings," the lawyer for the client said, "Senator Drumb nearly lost his life because of your negligence."
"Alleged negligence." The mitigator wasn't having any of this. "Innocent until proven guilty." His eyebrows quirked up in the center, and for a moment, he sounded like a lawyer, but while he had the liberty to speak on my behalf, he was only truly making sure the insurance company paid as little as possible.
"May I finish?" the lawyer said, scowling at my mitigator. He eyed both of us for a few seconds, and Victor Ronald—dean of medicine here at Twin Peaks—nodded at him to continue. "The Senator almost died. The hospital has gone through their reports of what happened and found that Dr. Cole Hastings' actions were solely to blame for the incident. We have therefore named Dr. Hastings in our lawsuit. We don't wish to destroy anyone, but the fact of the matter is that blame has been assigned and our client seeks damages."
I knew it was coming, but the shock of the truth being announced like this only makes me feel more hopeless. Until that statement was spoken, I still held out hope that they'd see how naming me personally would affect me. Suing a health system as large as Premier Health meant a huge payout for the patient but only a slap on the wrist for the hospital. Suing a doctor meant the patient got his payout, but I'd never be insured again. It meant the end of my career.
"With all due respect, Mr.—" My mitigator stood, but the lawyer cut him off.
"When you say with all due respect, what you mean is you think I'm a moron. Sit down." The lawyer's eyes were on fire, shooting daggers at the insurance agent. "Dr. Hastings, I strongly recommend you acquire counsel for the next proceedings. We'll have a deposition and we're entering discovery. There will be a lot of things to go over, and you will want to get your affairs in order."
I didn't even know what to say. I wanted to scream out in my own defense, but it was pointless. The second Victor named me as the guilty party, they never looked at the hospital again. I know those records never indicated the patient had allergies to medicine or the preexistent comorbid conditions. If I had known that, I'd never have operated, or I’d have done my due diligence to prevent what happened from occurring.
Victor stood and said a few things, most of them deeply apologetic statements directed at the patient, who wasn't in attendance at today's meeting, and the droning sound of his voice made me zone out.
As hard as I'd fought for the past few months to keep my condition under wraps so I could keep my job, it all felt like it was for naught. The tremors weren't even the thing ending my career anymore. It was something entirely unrelated but just as devastating, and it would suck anyone near me down with it.
When the meeting was done, I rose and walked out, feeling like a zombie. The HR woman who warned me to get a lawyer had been right and I just didn't want to believe her. I thought this wouldn't happen, though I feared it would. And while I knew it was a possibility, I wanted to believe the best about people, about the administration of this hospital, but I was wrong.
"Dr. Hastings, wait up." The mitigator scurried after me, and I glanced over my shoulder with a scowl.
"What do you want?" I grumbled, turning down the hallway toward my office. I hated how he appeared to be on my side while underneath, he just had to make sure he did his own job or risk being fired. I was the one with my life on the line while everyone around me turned a blind eye just to save their own skin. It was despicable.
"Sir, we should talk about your deductible. In a time like this?—"
"My God, can you just give me a break?" I knew I was being rude, but I didn't care. I was so upset, and this fool only wanted to talk about his job. I'd had it.
"Dr. Hastings, this can't wait." He stopped walking, and I took a few more steps before I stopped abruptly.
I took in a deep breath to expand my chest and push away some of the tension, then I let it out and turned around, gritting my teeth so I could face him and get this over with. I said nothing, which triggered him to begin talking again.
"Sir, the twenty-five-thousand-dollar deductible is due now, before the suit goes to court. Per the terms of your policy, you have to pay that up front. That's your only cost out of pocket, and we'll make sure you're covered on?—"
I scoffed, shaking my head and cutting him off. He stopped talking, and I felt like I'd throw my fist across his face. "My only cost? You mean you'll continue to cover me when this jerk demands five million dollars from you on my behalf? That the hospital won't fire me after this? That I'll be employable somewhere else and not lose my license? What good is insurance, anyway? I may as well just file bankruptcy now."
The weaselly man stared at me, and I saw the defeat in his eyes. It was finally driving home to him how much this was going to affect me.
"Sir, I'm just doing my job."
I blinked a few times and shook my head. "Everyone is just doing their job. I did nothing wrong. How's that for doing your job? Those charts were changed after I looked at them, and I had no way of knowing that what I would go on to do would hurt the senator. Do you think I'm heartless?"
My chest was pounding, and I knew if I didn't get my anger under control I was not only going to make a scene, but I would probably have a heart attack or something.
"The hospital has agreed to pay half of your deductible…" He looked remorseful, but his sympathy meant nothing. And their money meant nothing. I could cover the deductible. It was the loss to follow all of this when it was over that was going to destroy me. The hospital's money was just a pity move, aimed at making sure they came out looking good when this was said and done.
"Go away," I told him, and I turned on my heel and walked toward my office. I was glad when he didn't follow me.
When I finally sat down in my chair and rubbed the frustration off my face, I thought of Rose and how this was all going to play out. I felt really sad that only days ago, I was considering going to the board and declaring our relationship to them to avoid our getting called out or fired. She was really nervous, and I just wanted to do the right thing. Now I knew if we did that, she'd end up having her reputation here damaged too. I hated that for her, and I was ashamed. I didn't want to drag her down with me, and I knew by the time this was over, I really would be bankrupt.
All my hard work and dedication to this job since I was twenty-six years old would be for nothing. I was going to lose everything because Victor Ronald had to "do his job". No one would ever hire me again. I'd be the leper among physicians, and where would that leave Rose? I'd end up having to move away from the city just to find a job, and she didn't want to leave here. She just moved here. Not to mention, how would I ever provide for her? What type of man can't get a job and yet still wants a woman to depend on him?
I had my phone in my hand, ready to call her and break it off just for her protection, when someone knocked on my door. I looked up to see Juan poke his head in and offer a concerned expression.
"Is now a good time?" he asked, and I rubbed my face again and shook my head, but he came in anyway. He walked right over and sat down after closing the door behind himself, and I clenched my hands into fists and pounded them onto my desk.
"This is so infuriating!" I shouted, probably loud enough that people in the hallway could hear me.
"I take it the meeting didn't go so well?" Juan's grimace didn't quite match mine, but I appreciated the show of solidarity.
"They're naming me. They said the hospital found me negligent, which probably means the hospital paid the lawyer off to tell his client to aim it at me. They're protecting themselves, and I'll take the fall." I just still couldn't believe it.
"Maybe you should let the lawyers and the insurance work it out. If they go through the files and see that the charts were changed after you already did your consultation and prep for surgery, they'll find you innocent. There's still a chance…"
While Juan may have been right, I just couldn't believe him. Bad things just seemed to follow me around like a dark cloud. On top of that, I'd gone on the record privately about my tremors. If the lawyers started digging into my life—and I knew they would—they'd see the medical reports and know I was hiding something. I'd be subpoenaed to divulge the medical records I was keeping secret, and that would be the end anyway.
"Yeah, maybe," I grumbled, but I didn't really mean it. I was going to lose everything, and what sort of man would I be then? Would Rose even want me anymore? What would this washed-up surgeon even do? I was too young to retire.