The Fiancée Who Reported Me for Taking a Patient Gift

Chapter 2 The Procedure

Two weeks passed. They were the longest two weeks of my life. I didn't leave the house much. I read. I ran. I stared at the ceiling and tried to remember what it felt like to have steady hands.

Diane called every other day with updates. The emails were being analyzed. The security guard had been interviewed. Priya had given a statement. It was slow, but it was moving.

Then, on a Wednesday afternoon, Marcus called.

"There's been an accident," he said. "A pileup on the interstate. Twelve patients incoming. We're short on trauma surgeons. I need you to come in."

"I'm suspended."

"I know."

"I can't set foot in an OR."

"I know."

"Then why are you calling me?"

Marcus was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "Because I have three surgeons on the floor and twelve patients coming in, and I don't have anyone else who can do what you do."

I closed my eyes. I could feel the weight of it, the pull of it, the thing that had made me a surgeon in the first place. The need to be there. The need to help.

"I can't," I said. "If I come in, the board will say I violated the terms of my suspension. They'll fire me. They'll take my license."

"I know."

"Then don't ask me."

"I'm not asking you as your chief. I'm asking you as your friend."

"I can't, Marcus."

He was quiet for a long time. Then he said, "Okay," and hung up.

I sat in the dark for an hour, and I listened to the scanner. Twelve patients. Three surgeons. I knew the math. I knew what it would mean.

I didn't go.

The next morning, I got a call from the hospital's compliance office. They wanted me to come in for an interview. The investigation had expanded.

When I walked into the conference room, Grant Halloran was already there. So was Elena. So was a man I didn't recognize, who introduced himself as Owen Marsh, an investigator with the state medical board.

"Dr. Mercer," Marsh said. "Thank you for coming in. We have some questions about your decision not to assist with the resuscitation efforts yesterday."

I sat down.

"I was on administrative leave," I said.

"You were. But the hospital's bylaws contain a provision that allows a suspended physician to participate in emergency care if no other qualified physician is available. Yesterday, no other qualified physician was available."

"Three surgeons were on the floor."

"Three surgeons, none of whom have your level of trauma experience. The board would like to know why you refused to help."

I looked at Elena. She was staring at the table.

"I refused because I was told I was not allowed to set foot in an OR," I said. "I refused because I was told that if I did, I would be fired. I refused because I was following the instructions I'd been given by this hospital's administration."

"Who gave you those instructions?"

"Dr. Ellery. The chief of surgery."

"And did Dr. Ellery tell you that you were prohibited from participating in emergency care even if no other qualified physician was available?"

"He told me I was not to set foot in an OR."

"That's not what I asked."

I looked at Marcus. He was sitting in the corner, and he wouldn't meet my eyes.

"No," I said. "He didn't say that."

"So you made a decision not to assist based on your own interpretation of the rules?"

"I made a decision not to assist because I believed that participating would jeopardize my career and my license, and because I had been told by my chief that I was not allowed to set foot in an OR."

"But you didn't ask for clarification. You didn't call Dr. Ellery back. You didn't check the bylaws. You simply refused."

"I simply refused because I was on administrative leave."

Marsh wrote something down. Then he looked at Elena.

"Ms. Voss, you filed the complaint that led to Dr. Mercer's suspension. Did you know that the complaint was filed under a category that doesn't apply to you?"

Elena's face went white.

"I filled out the form as best I could."

"The form asks you to certify that you are a patient, a family member of a patient, or a hospital employee. You are none of those things."

"I'm his fiancée."

"The form doesn't list fiancée as a category."

"I didn't know that."

"You signed the certification anyway."

"I didn't read it carefully."

Marsh looked at her for a long moment. Then he turned back to me.

"Dr. Mercer, did you accept a cash gift from the Barnes family?"

"No."

"Did you ever tell Ms. Voss that you had?"

"No."

"Did you ever ask her to lie for you?"

"No."

Marsh closed his folder.

"We'll be in touch," he said.

The story broke two days later. A reporter from the local paper had gotten a copy of the complaint and the emails. The headline was: "Hospital VP Accused of Orchestrating False Complaint Against Trauma Surgeon."

Grant Halloran was suspended pending investigation. Elena was named as a co-conspirator. The hospital issued a statement saying it was cooperating fully with the state medical board.

I didn't feel vindicated. I felt tired.

Diane called me that afternoon. "You're going to be reinstated," she said. "The board is going to clear you. But there's a condition."

"What condition?"

"They want you to submit to a psychological evaluation. They want to make sure you're fit to return to work."

"Because I refused to help during the crash?"

"Because you refused to help during the crash, and because they want to cover themselves. If you come back and something goes wrong, they want to be able to say they evaluated you."

"Fine. I'll do it."

"There's one more thing."

"What?"

"Elena has retained counsel. She's claiming that you coerced her into filing the complaint and that she was acting under duress."

I laughed. It wasn't a happy laugh.

"She's claiming I coerced her?"

"That's what her lawyer is saying."

"Her lawyer is Grant Halloran's lawyer, isn't he?"

Diane was quiet.

"Isn't he?"

"Yes."

I closed my eyes.

"Okay," I said. "Let her try."