16. Joel
16
JOEL
The fallout comes faster than I expect. By noon the next day, whispers ripple through the hospital. “Did you hear?” and “Dr. Rivkin…” are snippets that follow me through the halls. I’m used to being the focus of attention around here, but this? This feels different. Tense.
I get the news from Dr. Patel during a quick break between patients. He steps into my office, shutting the door behind him with a grave expression. “Joel, they’ve called Rivkin into a meeting with the board,” he says, his voice low but firm.
I set down the chart I’ve been reviewing. “Already?”
“Yeah. Just started about twenty minutes ago,” Patel confirms, crossing his arms. “Word is, they’re taking this seriously. They’ve already started reaching out to staff for interviews—mainly nurses. HR’s compiling a list of anyone who’s ever filed a complaint or mentioned something off the record.”
My chest tightens. This is what I wanted, right? Accountability. Transparency. But now that it’s happening, I can’t help but think about the chaos this will cause. The staff’s morale, the potential fallout if the board mishandles this… or if they choose to sweep it under the rug.
“What are people saying?” I ask, leaning back in my chair.
Patel sighs. “Mixed reactions. Some think it’s about time someone said something, but others are worried it’ll backfire. Rivkin’s been here a long time. He’s got his allies.”
“He doesn’t intimidate everyone,” I say firmly. “Many of them are afraid to cross him on their own but as a group, they will be more confident. They’ll speak up.”
Patel gives me a cautious look. “I hope you’re right. Just be prepared. This… isn’t going to be over quickly.”
After Patel leaves, I sit in my chair, the tension in my shoulders mounting. The gravity of the situation settles in more deeply. This isn’t just about calling out Rivkin’s behavior. It’s about whether Everwood Hospital can truly stand by its values.
Later that evening, when I’m home with Lucy and the boys, she notices my tension. After dinner, once the kids are asleep, she sits beside me on the couch, her blue eyes full of concern.
“You’ve been quiet tonight,” she says softly. “Is it about what’s happening at work?”
I run a hand through my hair. “The board has already called Rivkin in. They’re starting interviews with staff. It’s moving fast, but it’s going to get messy.”
“Messy or not, it needed to happen,” Lucy says firmly. Her confidence in me is steady, unwavering. “You’re doing the right thing, Joel. The hospital needs this.”
Her words ease some of the tension I’ve been carrying. I pull her closer, grateful for her presence. This battle isn’t over, but having Lucy by my side makes the weight feel a little lighter.
By the next morning, the tension in the hospital is palpable. Every hallway conversation seems to be hushed, every glance cautious. I overhear snippets of chatter—mostly about who’s been called into HR. It’s a mix of relief and anxiety. Relief that the board is taking this seriously, and anxiety over the potential repercussions.
When I pass by the nurses’ station on my way to check on a patient, I see Michelle and two other nurses, heads bent together in hushed conversation. They look up as I approach, their expressions a mixture of nervousness and gratitude.
“Dr. Anderson,” Michelle says, stepping forward slightly. “We just wanted to say… thank you. For speaking up.”
I pause, meeting her gaze. “You don’t need to thank me. You’re the ones who’ve had the courage to share your experiences. That takes more bravery than you realize.”
Michelle’s eyes glisten. “It means a lot, knowing someone’s in our corner.”
I give them a reassuring nod before continuing down the hall. Moments like that remind me why I did this. It’s not just about Rivkin; it’s about protecting the people who make this hospital what it is.
During lunch, I run into Briana, one of the nurses Lucy’s become close with. She’s visibly shaken, her tray untouched as she sits in the cafeteria.
“Briana,” I say, sitting across from her. “You doing okay?”
She glances around before leaning in. “Dr. Anderson, I don’t know what to say in there. I mean, I’ve seen things… heard things. But what if they don’t believe me? What if it gets back to him?”
Her voice wavers, and my jaw tightens. “They won’t let that happen,” I say firmly. “The board’s taking this seriously. And so will HR. You have my word.”
Briana nods, but the uncertainty in her eyes doesn’t fade. As I leave, I make a mental note to check in with her again. No one should feel this alone in the face of speaking the truth.
By midday, I’m called into a meeting with Ms. Palmer, the board’s chairwoman. She’s seated at the head of the table, her expression unreadable. The air is thick with tension as I take a seat across from her.
“Dr. Anderson,” she begins, folding her hands on the table. “We’ve reviewed the initial findings from the interviews and the documentation you provided. The evidence is compelling.”
I lean forward slightly, my pulse quickening. “And?”
Ms. Palmer’s gaze sharpens. “As of this afternoon, Dr. Rivkin has been removed from consideration for the chief of staff position. We’re continuing the investigation into his conduct, but this decision was necessary based on what we’ve uncovered so far.”
Relief washes over me, but it’s tempered by the weight of what’s still ahead. “Thank you for taking this seriously,” I say. “This hospital… it deserves leadership that reflects its values. I’m confident the board will handle this with the fairness and transparency it deserves.”
Ms. Palmer nods. “We couldn’t agree more. We appreciate your dedication to the hospital, Dr. Anderson. I know this hasn’t been easy, but it’s necessary.” She paused for a moment, “Dr. Anderson, I need you to be prepared. This isn’t over. There will be pushback from his allies, from those who don’t believe the evidence. It’s going to get harder before it gets better.”
I meet her gaze, my resolve firm. “I expected that, and I’m prepared.”
That evening, I’m standing in the living room, staring out the window, a glass of bourbon in hand, when Lucy joins me. She’s dressed in her usual casual way. She’s wearing soft leggings and an oversized sweater. There’s an edge to her smile.
“You look like you’re carrying the weight of the world,” Lucy says, her voice soft and comforting.
I give her a tired smile. “It’s been a long day.”
“So,” she says, leaning against my side. “Dr. Rivkin’s officially out of the running.”
“Yep.” I take a sip, letting the warmth of the bourbon settle my nerves. “One step closer to cleaning up the underlying tension at the hospital.”
She studies me for a moment, her blue eyes thoughtful. “You did the right thing, Joel. It’s hard, but it will be worth it.”
Her words ease some of the tension I’ve been carrying. “I couldn’t have done it without you,” I admit. “You gave those nurses the courage to speak up.”
Lucy’s cheeks flush, and she ducks her head. “I just listened. They’re the brave ones.”
“Thank you,” I say, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. She leans into my touch, and for a moment, the weight of the week fades away. It’s just us, in this quiet moment of understanding.
The moment is interrupted by the buzz of my phone on the table. I glance at the screen and see a text from Patel: Just heard. Rivkin’s lawyer is involved now. Be ready.
The ache in my chest deepens. This isn’t over—not by a long shot.
The next day brings an entirely new level of tension. Rivkin’s name is on everyone’s lips, whispered in break rooms and exchanged in hurried glances. So much for keeping things confidential.
Patel’s warning about the lawyer proves accurate. HR has been inundated with questions from staff worried about retaliation.
During rounds, I catch sight of Rivkin in the hallway. He’s speaking with two men in sharp suits, his face set in a grim mask. For a moment, his eyes lock with mine, and the tension between us is unmistakable. He doesn’t say anything, just turns and walks away. But the message is clear; he’s not going down without a fight.
By mid-afternoon, another email from Ms. Palmer hits my inbox. The board is holding an emergency meeting to discuss next steps. I skim the message quickly and realize they’re asking me to attend, to provide clarity on the evidence I submitted.
I text Lucy with an update while I’m preparing my notes for the meeting. She quickly responds: You’ve got this. Proud of you.
Her encouragement steadies me, and I take a deep breath. This is what I signed up for when I hit send on that letter. If Rivkin wants to fight, I’ll be ready.
By the time the meeting starts, the boardroom feels like a pressure cooker. The members are tense, their questions sharp. I go through everything methodically, answering each query with as much detail as possible. It’s clear they’re trying to cover every angle, anticipating the blowback Rivkin’s lawyer is already stirring up.
After nearly two hours, Ms. Palmer adjourns the meeting. As I leave, I overhear one of the members mutter to another, “This is going to get ugly before it’s over.”
Outside the boardroom, Patel is waiting for me. “How’d it go?” he asks.
“They’re thorough,” I reply, rubbing the back of my neck. “It’s not going to be easy, but they’re taking this seriously.”
Patel looks at me, his expression serious. “Good. Because Rivkin… he’s already playing dirty. I’ve heard rumors he’s threatening to sue for defamation. Be careful, Joel.”
I give him a tight nod, the weight of the warning sinking in. This fight isn’t over yet—and I’m going to have to be ready for whatever comes next.