It's Nothing Personal (24 page)

Someone from inside the glass conference
room motioned to Jim and Nancy, and they stood.
 
Nancy leaned in close to Jenna and
whispered, “It’s time.”

Like a prisoner being marched to the
execution chamber, Jenna followed her lawyers, emotionless and compliant.
 
They entered the room, and Jenna
instantly recognized Allison Anders.
 
Jenna frowned at her, consumed with pure hatred.
 

Jim waved his hand to the head of the table,
and Jenna took her seat.
 
As she
did, Allison approached.
 
Instinctively, Jenna stood.
 
Before Jenna knew it, she found herself gripping the hand of the
devil.
 
Allison’s hands were frigid,
her grip severe.

“Dr. Reiner, I’m Allison Anders, Ms.
Hollings’ counsel.”
 

Jenna nodded and took her hand back as
quickly as possible.
 
She did not
say a word.
 
As quickly as Jenna
found herself locked in a handshake with Allison Anders, Michelle Hollings was
standing in front of her, extending a hand.
 
Jenna stiffly reciprocated.
 
Ms. Hollings introduced herself, and
Jenna only nodded.
 
She had nothing
to say to Michelle Hollings.
 
Most
certainly, she was not about to apologize to her for what happened or offer any
sympathy.
 
Jenna remembered the
warnings – remorse implies guilt.
 
Staring blankly ahead, Jenna sat back down.
 
All she could think about was how
desperately she wanted to scrub the skin off her hands.

Within moments, everyone had taken their
seats.
 
Jenna was sworn in, and the
ground rules were explained.
 
Less
than five minutes into the deposition, Allison bared her fangs.

Allison wagged her finger in Jenna’s face,
inches from her nose.
 
“Are you
aware that, during your deposition, if you testify to something that is
inconsistent with any of your own medical records or inconsistent even with a
different portion of your deposition, that could be pointed out to a jury, if
this went to trial?”

Jenna refused to pull back.
 
Instead, she stared Allison dead in the
eyes and firmly replied, “Yes, I’m aware of that.”

Allison’s next question deeply offended
Jenna.
 
“Is there anything today,
whether you’re under the influence of a drug or alcohol or not feeling well,
that would affect your ability to give open and honest answers?”

Jenna never diverted her gaze from Allison.
 
She would not give Allison the
satisfaction of being shamed into looking away.
 
Jenna said coolly, “No.”

“If today, during the deposition, you are
not being direct and are being evasive, are you aware that could be pointed out
to a jury?”

Maintaining her stare and intensity, Jenna
simply said, “Yes.”

The next hour was filled with basic
questions, establishing basic facts.
 
Allison’s tone was one of complete
disapproval of Jenna.
 
Even the
simplest questions were asked with mockery.
 
Jenna, determined to do her best, had
not yet fumbled.
 
She kept most of
her answers to “yes” or “no.”
 

Over time, Allison’s tenacity started to
wear on Jenna.
 
She could feel her
attention lapsing.
 
Jenna kept
hoping that Jim would call for a break, as he had promised, but he never did.
 
In the meantime, Allison kept firing
questions at her.
 

Finally, Jenna decided to take matters into
her own hands.
 
At the end of the
answer to the next question, Jenna said, “No, and I need to take a break.”

Allison slammed the screen of her laptop
closed, clearly annoyed that Jenna had slipped in her request for a break as
part of her answer to a question.
 
Sighing in disgust, Allison said, “Okay.
 
Let’s take a break.
 
We’ll meet back here in fifteen
minutes.”

Jenna led the way this time, with her two
lawyers on her heels.
 
She marched
directly to the elevators without saying a word.
 
Covertly, Jenna glanced at the
conference room while waiting for the elevator to arrive.
 
Allison’s eyes narrowed and her mouth
was pinched tight.
 
Apparently, Allison
was not accustomed to defendants leaving
her
floor and escaping
her
control during
a break.
 
Jenna smiled slightly,
feeling as though she had just scored one point, albeit a small one.
 
Once on the ground floor, Jenna marched
outside into the warm summer air.
 
It was only then that she spoke.

Biting her thumbnail, she asked, “Have I
screwed up yet?”
 

She was certain she had made nothing but
mistakes.
 
Allison was so relentless
and nasty.
 
Every one of Jenna’s
answers caused Allison to respond with a look of dismay and disgust.
 
Since Jenna was instructed to avoid looking
at her attorneys, she had no feedback other than Allison’s patronizing
reactions.

Jenna’s gaze alternated between her
attorneys.
 
She was anxious for
their feedback, regardless of how bad it might be.
 
Then Jim and Nancy did something that
stunned Jenna.
 
They both
smiled.
 

Nancy was the first to speak, “Jenna, you
are doing great.
 
Honestly.
 
I know it doesn’t feel like it, but you
are.”

Jim actually chuckled, “I think you’re the
first person I’ve seen who has succeeded in flustering Allison Anders.”

Jenna regarded him with disbelief, “What do
you mean?”

Jim replied, more serious this time, “I
mean, you’re not responding the way she’s accustomed to.
 
She hasn’t gotten you to raise your
voice or lose your temper.
 
You’ve
been polite, forthcoming, and unshakable.”

“It doesn’t feel like I’m doing well.
 
She talks to me like I’m an imbecile.
 
She acts like I’m lower than scum.”

Nancy cut in, “That’s her way, and it
usually works well for her.
 
She may
be getting to you on the inside, but it’s not showing on the outside.
 
That’s all that matters.
 
Just keep it up.
 
Keep your focus.
 
We still have many hours ahead of us, so
don’t let your guard down.”

Jim checked his watch, “Well ladies, time’s
up.”

CHAPTER 34

Jenna and her lawyers returned to the conference
room and took their assigned seats on the enemy’s turf.
 
The cameraman tersely announced, “We are
back on the record.
 
Time is now
10:45 a.m.”

The red light on the camera flickered.
 
Jenna did her best to ignore it.
 

Allison leaned back in her chair and asked
Jenna, “Are you aware of the claims that have been made against you by Ms.
Hollings?”

“Yes.”

Allison’s tone was venomous.
 
“Tell me, Doctor, what are those claims,
as you understand them?”

Jenna felt the weight of Michelle Hollings’
eyes upon her, but refused to look in her direction.
 
Instead, she kept her focus directly on Allison
and replied calmly, “As I understand things, Ms. Hollings claims that she
contracted hepatitis C during her surgical procedure at St. Augustine.
 
She thinks that I am, at least
partially, to blame.”

“Do you dispute the fact that Michelle
Hollings contracted hepatitis C during her surgical procedure at St.
Augustine?”

Jenna spotted the red flag in the
question.
 
Her lawyers’ advice was
paying off.
 

She answered defiantly, “I don’t have any
solid evidence to support or refute the claim.
 
At this point, I can’t say with
certainty either way.”

Allison fired back, “Does it upset you that
one of your patients contracted hepatitis C?”

Jenna responded carefully, “My job, as a
doctor, is to take excellent care of my patients.
 
I care deeply about what I do and who I care
for.
 
If anything unfortunate
happens to one of my patients, for whatever reason, it deeply upsets me.”

“And, in fact, something did happen to one
of your patients on January 20, 2010.
 
Michelle Hollings walked into St. Augustine Hospital for a simple,
outpatient surgical procedure and walked out with a deadly virus.
 
This happened under your care.
 
Based on what you just said, you are
upset about that, correct?”

Jenna was unwilling to be provoked.
 
She succinctly replied, “It’s upsetting
to me that Ms. Hollings has hepatitis C.”

Allison abruptly shifted gears.
 
“Doctor, didn’t you sign a sworn
affidavit stating that it was your
usual
procedure to draw your drugs up in advance, place them in a drawer of your
anesthesia cart, and hide them under various anesthesia supplies?
 
Is that what you did with the drugs
intended for Michelle Hollings?”

In spite of the beta-blocker, Jenna could
feel her pulse quicken.
 
She paused
for a moment to think about her answer.
 
Jenna knew this question was inevitable, and she had rehearsed her
answer many times.
 
Still, she
wanted to make sure she did not inadvertently say anything wrong.
 
Jenna took a cleansing breath and a sip
of water before she answered.
 

“I can’t recall specifically what I did that
day.
 
It was over a year ago.”

“But your affidavit states what you did with
drugs.
 
So were you lying then, or
are you lying now?”
 
Allison’s lips
pursed as she blinked at Jenna.

Nancy jumped in, “Objection.
 
You are mischaracterizing her testimony,
and your tone and accusations are inappropriate.
 
Jenna, you may go ahead and answer the
question.”

The objection gave Jenna the brief amount of
time she needed to regain her composure.

Jenna responded steadily, “Neither.
 
I don’t lie.
 
My affidavit attests to my
usual
practice.
 
Just because I may do something the same
way ninety-nine out of one hundred times, doesn’t mean that there is never an
occasion where I may deviate from my common practice.
 
Because I can’t specifically recall the
events of that day, I can’t say with one hundred percent certainty that I did
things any particular way.”

“Why would you hide your drugs?” Allison
asked indignantly.

Jenna sucked in a deep breath, buying a
precious few seconds, and then evenly stated, “Because in my training I was
taught that if narcotics came up missing, the procedure was to call the police,
and they would come and question you.
 
Of course, if you did nothing wrong, you’d be cleared, but you still had
to go through the ordeal and disgrace of being questioned.
 
I never wanted that to happen to me.”

“Then you must agree that the operating room
is not a secure environment.
 
If it
were, how could your drugs go missing?
  
You must have been worried that
someone might steal your narcotics?”
 
Allison suppressed a grin, certain this
would be her kill shot.

Jenna shook her head earnestly, “No, it
wasn’t that at all.
 
Mostly, I was
concerned that if I left them out, either housekeeping or an anesthesia tech
might innocently discard them, thinking they were waste.”

“Tell me . . .” said Allison as she drummed
her fingers on the surface of the table.
 
“Tell me specifically about the training you received concerning the
handling of controlled substances in medical school and residency.”

Jenna took a second to assemble her
thoughts.
 
“There really wasn’t any
formal instruction during either time period of my training.
 
We had pharmacology courses in medical
school, but that was it.
 
During
residency, there weren’t any formal lectures or in-services instructing us how
to handle narcotics.
 
We learned on
the job by following the example of our attendings and senior residents.
 
We were expected to have everything
prepared before the patient entered the OR, including all of our drugs.
 
It was common practice to leave
medications in the OR, either in a drawer or on top of the cart.
 
The OR was considered to be a secure
environment.”

Allison then asked with condemnation, “
Who
, who specifically led you to believe
that the operating room was a secure environment where you could leave
controlled substances unlocked and unattended?”

Jenna kept her cool.
 
“The attending physicians, who were my
supervisors and mentors, watched over me like hawks.
 
If it had been inappropriate for me to
store my drugs in my anesthesia cart, I would have been reprimanded.
 
I did it that way, and my fellow
residents did it that way.
 
It was
acceptable practice.
 
The attendings
knew what we were doing, and they never advised us otherwise.”