It's Nothing Personal (9 page)

Jon sensed the nurse was eavesdropping.
 
He shifted closer to Jenna and lowered
his voice.
 
“Jenna, do you think you
could be at risk?”

Jenna’s fear escalated.
 
A headache started to sweep over her,
along with a wave of nausea.
 
She
answered Jon in a secretive whisper, “I don’t know.
 
I mean, I
never
left my drugs just sitting out.
 
Anyway, I just don’t see how they could
pin this on the anesthesiologist.
 
The operating room is supposed to be a secure environment.
 
It’s not our fault the hospital hired a
criminal.”

“Well Jenna, the anesthesia doctors may not
have been the ones that pulled the trigger on the proverbial gun, but at least
some of you left the gun loaded, cocked, and sitting out.
 
Without the gun sitting there, none of
this would be happening.”
 

Jon’s harsh words left Jenna feeling
wounded.

She asked shrilly, “You think we are at
least partially responsible for all this?
 
How can you think something like that?”
 
Heat rose up Jenna’s neck.

Unable to face Jenna’s shocked expression,
Jon left the room to scrub for the case.
 
He never answered her question.

The next four hours of the case passed
uneventfully.
 
Jon chatted mainly
with the nurses, while his selection of jazz blared from the operating room
speakers.
 
Normally, Jenna would
have been annoyed by the loud music – today was different.
 
At least it relieved her from feeling
obligated to engage in any further conversation with Jon.
 
For the duration of the case, Jenna
stayed hidden behind the surgical drapes, silently lost in thought.

The case finished up around noon.
 
In the recovery room, Jenna was in the
middle of giving report to the nurse when she felt a hand grip her
shoulder.
 
She glanced back to see
Jon, standing behind her.
 
He
whispered in her ear, “Jenna, I can’t change the way I feel, but, for what it’s
worth, I really hope that none of your patients were infected.”

Jenna smiled nervously and whispered, “Me
too.”

CHAPTER 10

Jenna’s stomach growled as she left the
recovery room and headed toward the cafeteria in search of food.
 
Passing the nurses’ lounge, she noticed
it was unusually crowded.
 
Spotting
Rebecca, Jenna sprinted to catch up with her in the hallway.

“Hey, Rebecca.
 
What’s going on in there?”
 

Rebecca spoke softly, as if she were
divulging a secret.
 
“Keith Jones is
going to update the staff on the hep C stuff.”

“Is this meeting just for nurses, or can I
go too?”

Rebecca responded kindly, “I don’t see why
you can’t attend.
 
Go on in.
 
There’s some pizza in there, so feel
free to help yourself.”

“Thanks,” Jenna said.
 
She headed into the crammed nurses’
lounge and stood inconspicuously near the doorway.
 
Even though the pizza smelled delicious,
her appetite had disappeared.
 

Most of the rectangular lounge was occupied
by a large dining table.
 
The
relatively small amount of remaining space was inadequately suited to
accommodate what appeared to be at least fifty staff members who had gathered
for the impromptu meeting.
 
Every
chair at the long dining table was taken, some being shared by two nurses.
 
Other staff members stood against the walls.
 
Even though most of the staff took
advantage of the free lunch, they chewed their food in silence, not wanting to
miss a single detail of what Keith Jones was about to say.

Jenna surveyed the room.
 
Finally, at one end of the table, she
spotted the CEO.
 
They had never
been introduced.
 
In fact, the first
time Jenna ever had a face to put with his name was the day she saw him on the
news.
 
However menacing Keith Jones
appeared to be on TV, in person he was more formidable.
 
The CEO was undeniably handsome, but in
a hard, chiseled sort of way.
 

With practiced style, Keith Jones held up
his hands, signaling everyone to quiet down.
 
The gesture was unnecessary.
 
Every person in the room had already
fallen completely quiet.
 
Keith
Jones confidently addressed the crowd, “Thank you all for coming.
 
I know it’s your lunch period, but with
so many staff members, this seemed like the best way to gather the most of you
in one place.
 
Hopefully, you all
got something to eat.
 
Just so I
have a sense of who is in attendance, are most of you operating room nurses and
scrub techs?”

Many of the staff simply nodded.
 
One of the operating room nurses noticed
Jenna standing by the door and said, “We also have an anesthesiologist
here.
 
Dr. Reiner.”
 
At the mention of her name, the crowd
collectively turned their heads toward Jenna, who blushed at being singled
out.
 
She looked directly at Keith
Jones.
 
His relentless stare
perturbed Jenna, but she forced herself to return his gaze.
 
Instantly, she got the impression that
he was familiar with her.
 
It was a
fleeting awareness, yet undeniably present.

Suddenly, Jenna felt like a trespasser and
regretted having come into the lounge.
 
She addressed Keith Jones, while the entire room remained focused on
her. “I thought this meeting was open to everyone.
 
I don’t want to intrude, so I can leave
if the meeting was not meant for physicians.”

Keith Jones continued to concentrate on
Jenna.
 
His haunting scrutiny made
her feel like he knew her deepest, darkest secrets.
 
In a tone that revealed nothing, Mr. Jones
said, “No, Dr. Reiner, it’s fine that you’re here.
 
Please feel free to stay.”
 
Following his approval, the eyes and
ears of the staff shifted their attention back to the CEO.
 

He resumed his address, “As you are all
probably aware, we have had some very unfortunate events occur recently at St.
Augustine.
 
I’m going to assume
that, by now, you all know the basic details of Hillary Martin and her
crimes.
 
If not, I encourage you to
visit the employee website.
 

“At this point, you all are strongly
discouraged from talking about this issue in any area where patients may be
present, as well as speaking to members of the press.

“From a preventive standpoint, all staff
anesthesiologists have been advised as to changes in policy regarding the
handling and securing of controlled substances.
 
Under no circumstances are any drugs,
but most importantly controlled substances, to be left out on anesthesia carts
without an anesthesiologist present in the room.
 
Any violation of this policy should be
reported immediately to the charge nurse or the chairman of the anesthesia department,
Dr. Rob Wilson.
 
Now, if there are
any questions, I can attempt to answer them.”

Impulsively, Jenna raised her hand before
she had the good sense to stop herself.
 
Keith Jones had already been gazing in her direction and did not
hesitate to call on her, “Yes, Dr. Reiner?”

Jenna strained to keep her voice even in
order to conceal her fear of Keith Jones.
 
“I just want to clarify exactly what you mean by how our drugs should be
stored.
 
I understand that our drugs
cannot be sitting out in plain sight.
 
My question, however, is whether it is acceptable to store our drugs
within the drawers of our anesthesia machine?
 
Is that considered secure?”

Keith Jones glared at Jenna as if she were the
criminal.
 
“At this point, unless
drugs are locked within your anesthesia cart or are being carried on your
person, they are no longer considered secure.
 
Just so you all know, locks will be
installed on all carts by the end of this week.”
 

Several nurses raised their hands, and Keith
Jones shifted his attention elsewhere.
 
Jenna slipped out of the nurses’ lounge undetected.
 
The interaction left Jenna deeply
disturbed.
 
She tried to dismiss it,
but Jenna could not shake the feeling that he was somehow sizing her up for a
particular reason.
 

Jenna arrived home early in the
afternoon.
 
The house was quiet and
empty, but Jenna could hear Mia and her babysitter, Kim, in the backyard
engaged in a water-balloon war.
 
The
two girls were so wrapped up in their game that neither of them noticed Jenna’s
arrival.
 
Jenna watched in delight
as Mia giggled and squealed.
 

Hiding behind a lawn chair, Mia taunted Kim,
“You can’t get me!”
   

Kim shouted back, “Just did!”
 
The splash of water exploding from the
impact of a balloon hitting the chair threw both girls into a laughing fit.

From the deck, Jenna could see Mia’s golden
hair was soaked and matted to her head.
 
Her daughter’s eyes twinkled with joy and innocence.
 
For a moment, the luxury of seeing her
only child so happy allowed Jenna to overlook the strangeness of the day.
 
A genuine smile crept over Jenna’s face
as she tried to put things in perspective.

CHAPTER 11

June 16, 2010

Jenna woke early and left the house by 6:00
a.m.
 
She had been notified the
night before that Rob Wilson would be holding a meeting at her group’s office
building at 6:30.
 
Attendance was
mandatory, and anyone who missed the meeting would be fined.
 
All OR start times had been postponed.
 
Jenna had never seen anything like this
in her entire career.

At 6:20, Jenna arrived at the offices of
Mountain Anesthesia Services.
 
In
the conference room, foldout chairs had been set up to accommodate the sixty or
so members of her group.
 
Jenna took
a seat in the back.
 
Five minutes
later, every chair was occupied.
 

Rob Wilson, dressed in black slacks and a pressed
white shirt, walked in at exactly 6:30.
 
He strode to the front of the room.
 
His voice was powerful and loud.
 
There was a microphone present, but Rob Wilson had no reason to use it.

“Good morning, and thank you all for
arriving promptly.
 
This meeting is
intended to make sure we are all on the same page with respect to the hepatitis
issue.
 
Mountain Anesthesia Services
has been working diligently in cooperation with attorneys from our malpractice
carrier and representatives from St. Augustine Hospital.
 
Our attorneys have produced a list of
guidelines intended to help all M.A.S. doctors in dealing with this issue.”

Jenna nervously glanced around the room as
she tried to read the faces and thoughts of her colleagues.
 
Everyone appeared unusually serious and
subdued.
 
Other than that, nobody
was giving anything away.

Rob Wilson continued, “To begin with, you
all must refrain from contacting any patients you may know personally, or any
potentially infected patients.
 
If an
M.A.S. physician becomes aware that one of his or her patients was infected
with hepatitis C during the critical time period, we advise that under no
circumstances should you contact those patients.
 
If a patient that you treated contacts
you directly, do not discuss this matter or any other aspect of their
care.
 
Instead, refer them directly
to St. Augustine Hospital.
 
Counsel
has further advised us to refrain from offering any apologies to patients, as
such statements could later be interpreted as admissions of guilt if litigation
occurs.”

It was the first time Jenna had ever heard
the term “counsel has advised.”
 
To
her, it sounded particularly formal and daunting.
 

“I know this next point is going to bother
most of you.
 
St. Augustine has a
list of the infected patients to date and therefore also knows which of us are
involved.
 
At this time, our
malpractice carrier has advised us
not
to request a copy of this list.
 
We
have been advised to wait until St. Augustine completes its investigation and
then voluntarily provides us the list.”

His statement caused an uprising amongst the
doctors in the room.
 
Many of
Jenna’s colleagues stood up, gesturing wildly and shouting in outrage.
 
Rob’s thunderous voice was drowned out.

“We have a right to know!”