Code 15 (21 page)

“I agree. In fact, the same thing occurred to me and I decided to limit my involvement to the Tony Wallace and Alison Greene cases.”

The relief Morgan expected to see in Bob’s face was conspicuously absent.

“That may not be enough,” he said with an obvious note of reluctance. “I think the smart move is for you to step down as the committee chair.”

“Step down? Why in the world would I—?”

“It would be temporary, Morgan—just until we get past this mess.”

Morgan pushed back in her chair. She then interlaced her fingers and said, “I hope this doesn’t have anything to do with our talk the other day about my level of stress, because if that’s the case, I think you’re—”

“Morgan, this is a time for putting our personal agendas aside for the good of the hospital.”

“But you’re not giving me the—”

He raised his hand. “I’ve already discussed the matter with the board and they agree with me. I assured them you would understand and do the right thing.”

With Bob having made up his mind, and with the backing of the hospital board, Morgan knew it was pointless to pursue the discussion. To borrow from his endless supply of corny sports metaphors, she was being expected to take one for the team.

“It appears I have no choice.”

“I think in time you’ll see this is the most sensible approach to our problem. I’ll give Sal Hutchinson a call. He’s been vice chair for a year. He should be able to handle things for a while. I’ll tell him to get in touch with you so that you can bring him up to speed on things.”

Morgan pushed her chair back and stood up. Allenby didn’t follow.

“That only leaves the matter of how we handle the Faith Russo case,” he said.

Morgan’s entire body rattled with frustration. “I thought we just decided that I was stepping down until the investigation was complete.”

“I’m afraid it’s not that simple. In view of Dr. Canfield’s autopsy findings, we obviously have a problem.”

Morgan retook her seat. “What kind of a problem?” she asked, growing weary of his tap dance.

“I’ve asked Eileen Hale to go over the specifics with you.”

“Eileen’s our director of Medical Affairs. Why would you like me to speak with her?”

“Because your involvement is a medical staff issue, I think it’s more appropriate if you two hashed things out. Just give her a call sometime today.”

“With all due respect, Bob, this is absurd.”

“You’ve been going through a lot lately. It’s hard to lose somebody who—”

“Bob, I loved my father dearly and I think about him every day. But that doesn’t make me a nonfunctional physician or human being. Losing a parent is something we all face. I’m fine.”

“I understand you’re pregnant and that you’re also having significant marital problems.”

“Which are hardly original occurrences around here. My personal life in no way impacts on my ability to do my job.”

Bob’s kindly smile was devoid of any sincerity.

“You’re an important member of our medical staff. We’re trying to help. Once all this unpleasant business with AHCA’s behind us, we can get back to business as usual.” He stood up and started for the door. “We’ll talk again in a few days.”

Bob’s quick departure left Morgan staring across the room. If there had been anything made of glass within arm’s reach, she would have smashed it against the wall.

“What a joke,” she whispered, fighting to control her exasperation at Bob’s phony Dutch uncle approach.

Feeling she was nearing the end of her rope, Morgan reminded herself she had most of her shift to complete. Doing everything in her power to temporarily stick her conversation with Bob in some far recess of her mind, she stood up and headed back to the emergency room.

At four p.m., Morgan signed out her patients to the oncoming physician and went straight to her office.

She sat down at her desk and reached for the tall stack of phone messages that always awaited her at the end of the day. Leafing through them absently, her mind switched to the phone call she was about to make to Eileen Hale. It was one of those moments when she needed her father’s perceptive advice. Ever since she declared her intention to study medicine, his compassionate and incisive guidance had always played an important role in her professional decision-making. Morgan found herself smiling as she thought about his unique way of sorting through the irrelevancies of a difficult problem to focus on its salient parts. Perhaps more than anything, she missed their special friendship.

Morgan tossed the messages back on her desk. After another few minutes, she picked up the phone and dialed Eileen’s extension. Eileen and Morgan had attended medical school together at the University of Florida. Following graduation, Eileen went to California for her residency while Morgan headed south to Tampa. They became reacquainted when they began working at Dade Presbyterian. Having a similar work ethic and approach to the practice of medicine, they had always gotten along well.

“Office of the director of Medical Affairs.”

“This is Dr. Connolly for Dr. Hale. I believe she’s expecting my call.”

“She’s on another call but she told me to interrupt her if you called. Hold on, please.” After a minute, Eileen’s secretary came back on. “I’ll connect you now.”

“Hi, Morgan. Is it true about you being pregnant?”

Morgan had to smile. “It’s true.”

“When are you due?”

“The beginning of October.”

“Congrats.”

“Thanks.”

“So how are you?”

“I guess that depends on how this conversation goes.”

After a deafening silence, Eileen said, “Bob asked me to get in touch with you. He has some concerns about these recent Code Fifteens.”

“I gathered as much when I spoke to him.”

“I’m not going to sugarcoat it. Canfield called Bob right after the autopsy. He insisted you blew it. He said you missed a diagnosis any third-year medical student could have made. I don’t have to tell you that Bob puts a lot of faith in Canfield’s opinions.”

“That may be part of the problem.”

“Bob feels as if the recent stress in your life may be clouding your professional judgment.”

Promising herself she wouldn’t become unhinged, she said, “I wasn’t aware Bob was a trained psychiatrist.”

“When you’re the CEO of a huge hospital, you don’t need to be. He told me that he had had a long talk with you about the Code Fifteens and that instead of conducting a rational investigation, you had gone off on some absurd witch hunt.”

“I’m not sure I would agree with his assessment. Bob’s looking for easy explanations. Unfortunately, they’re not there. I informed him of certain possibilities I felt he should be aware of. I wouldn’t call it a witch hunt; I would call it doing my job. Unfortunately, Bob felt these alternative explanations could damage the hospital’s reputation and instructed me not to pursue them. What’s worse, he’s using my involvement in the Faith Russo case to make sure I have no contact with AHCA regarding the other Code Fifteens.”

“You may be a hundred percent correct. But the problem is that your disagreement with Bob could lead to major problems for you. As I’m sure you know, he has certain discretionary powers regarding patient safety; especially how it applies to physician competency and behavior. He doesn’t need me or anybody else to advise and consent.”

“I thought I had certain rights as a member of this medical staff.”

“You do. And you’re more than welcome to exercise them. That’s assuming you want to get into a full-blown battle with the hospital over this thing.”

“What are you suggesting?” Morgan asked.

“Sometimes it’s smarter just to choose a less complicated path.”

“In other words, I should ignore my principles and cave in.”

“I’m not telling you what to do. I’m simply suggesting you focus on what’s important and resist the temptation to move to center stage and demand justice at the top of your lungs.”

“We’ve known each other a long time and I appreciate the advice, but I have a nagging suspicion that you have your marching orders from Bob and that we haven’t discussed them as yet.”

“Bob’s instructed me that the hospital has to take some type of action. I’d like to do that without leaving a paper trail. The state’s funny about what needs to go into and what can be omitted from a physician’s permanent file, especially as it pertains to corrective actions.”

Morgan didn’t need a map and a flashlight to see where this conversation was headed.

“What are my options, Eileen?”

“I suggest you voluntarily submit to a couple of sessions of psychological counseling. It’s no big deal and it will almost certainly get you out of the trap.”

As objectionable as Eileen’s suggestion was, Morgan was politically astute enough to know she would ultimately lose if she went head-to-head with Bob and the administration.

To confirm her suspicions, she asked, “And if I refuse?”

“Bob will insist that the matter be turned over to the Quality Assurance Committee. If your colleagues on the committee agree with him and label you an impaired physician, they can require you to undergo psychological counseling as an absolute condition to remain on the medical staff. Unfortunately, once it’s on that level, we’re obligated to notify the state.”

Morgan looked up at the ceiling. “It doesn’t seem like I have much of a choice.”

“I can’t tell you what to do, but in my opinion, the smart move is to agree to go to short-term counseling.”

“You know,” Morgan began in a subdued tone, “Bob’s been around a long time. He’s as masterful as anybody at maneuvering around state investigating committees. Counting Faith Russo, he has three Code Fifteens to answer for.”

“What’s your point?”

“He knows the most important thing a hospital can do is demonstrate that they’ve taken aggressive corrective action in rectifying the problem that caused the patient error. It would certainly look good to AHCA’s investigating team if the incompetent and stressed out ER physician who took care of Miss Russo had already been counseled and had agreed to get into therapy.”

“I’ll deny ever having said this, but I think we both know that the hospital will always come first in these types of unpleasant situations. Ultimately, physicians are always expendable.”

“Which, in this case, makes me the sacrificial lamb.”

“I wouldn’t get too philosophical about things. All you have to do is handle the problem correctly and things will get back to normal.”

It didn’t take a clap of thunder and a flash of lightning for Morgan to realize that Eileen was right. Undergoing a couple of sessions of counseling wouldn’t kill her. And at the moment it seemed like the only way to protect her position in the hospital.

“Is it my choice of therapist, or do you have somebody in mind you’d like me to see?” Morgan asked.

“Do you know Will Johnson?”

“No.”

“He’s a psychiatrist with a special interest in stress-related syndromes in physicians. We’ve sent a number of physicians to him and have gotten great feedback.”

“He sounds like a real peach. I can hardly wait.”

Eileen laughed. “Well, at least you haven’t lost your sense of humor.”

“How do you suggest I keep this confidential? The last thing I need is for every physician on staff to know I’m in obligatory counseling.”

“That won’t be a problem. Will’s practice is entirely outpatient. He’s not on staff. His office is a guesthouse on his property, and he’s very discreet regarding his schedule. You won’t run into anybody.”

“How many times do I have to go?” Morgan asked.

“That’s up to him. But in the past, he’s signed off on some people after three or four sessions.”

“Terrific.”

“I’m sorry about all this, Morgan. I’ll let Will know you’re going to call. I’ll e-mail you his number. Call me as soon as you’ve seen him. Good luck.”

For the next fifteen minutes, Morgan sat at her desk thinking about her conversation with Eileen. She considered herself to be as savvy as any physician regarding hospital politics. She didn’t need a banner plane to inform her it would be foolish to fight this battle. Morgan was convinced she could complete the sessions without abandoning her efforts to find out who was responsible for the Code 15s. It might be Bob Allenby’s agenda to whitewash the real causes of the Code 15s and deceive the AHCA, but it would never be hers.

Her life at the moment was hardly the one she had bargained for. In spite of what she had just told Eileen Hale, she had no intention of cowering in a corner and watching everything she had ever achieved as a physician spiral down the drain. She was determined to take whatever measures were necessary to deal with her problems but she would do so with an abundance of caution. That would mean taking Ben’s advice regarding flying under the radar. The one fortunate thing was she knew exactly where to begin.

DAY SIXTEEN

 

 

Morgan had been over Faith Russo’s medical record often enough to remember that she had listed a restaurant called Jimmy’s Place as her employer.

After sitting in the restaurant’s parking lot for a few minutes bolstering her courage, Morgan finally got out of her car and went inside. It was lunchtime. Just beyond the counter, two frenzied cooks manned a large grill with an overhanging mirror. From a row of searing hamburgers, grease spattered into the air. The noxious scent left Morgan a tad queasy.

Morgan spotted an empty table toward the back. Before it disappeared, she made her way over and sat down. It didn’t take long for a frumpy-appearing waitress wearing elastic support hose and a hairnet to duckwalk over with a glass of water and a silverware setup.

“My name’s Mattie,” she said pulling out her order book. “What are you having?”