It's Nothing Personal (39 page)

Walt paused for a moment.
 
Jenna sensed he was the kind of man who
chose his words very carefully.
 

“Your reasons are very typical, very
emotional, and dangerously short-sighted.”

Jenna was stunned and insulted by Walt’s
candor.
 
She wondered if Tom had
given the same answer, would Walt have called it “emotional,” too?
 
Even Tom stiffened at Walt’s assessment.

Walt quickly added, “I know that isn’t what
you were expecting to hear, and I hope you don’t take offense.
 
I’m not paid to tell you what you
want
to hear, I’m paid to tell you what
you
need
to hear.
 
What you need to understand is that this
lawsuit is
not
about justice.
 
It’s not about right versus wrong, good
versus evil.
 
It’s about one thing
and one thing only.
 
Money.
 
The sooner you come to terms with that
and accept it, the better off you’ll be.
 

“You say you want to go to trial and clear
your name?
 
Based on what I know of
your case, I’d say your chances of being completely exonerated are about forty
percent.
 
That means there is a
sixty percent chance that you go to trial and lose.
 
In the meantime, you drag yourself and
your family through the mud.
 
Or,
you do the smart thing and settle.
 
Get rid of this.
 

“Besides, the emotional state you’re in is
no way to start trial preparations.
 
You look weak and wounded, and I don’t blame you.
 
But that’s not going to win over a jury.
 
If you went to trial looking like you do
right now, you would single-handedly destroy your case.”

Abruptly, Walt turned his attention to Tom,
“How do you feel about things?”

Tom looked at his wife and then back at
Walt.
 

“I’m not sure.
 
I’ve watched this destroy Jenna for
nearly two years.
 
It’s turned her
against her career.
 
She’s lost her
self-confidence.
 
I know how upset
she is and how badly she wants to give it back to these sons-of-bitches.
 
Honestly, I’m afraid it might ruin her
in the process.”

Walt nodded in agreement.
 

“The decision is yours to make.
 
I am only here to offer you legal
advice.
 
If you choose to proceed to
trial, I will respect your decision and offer you counsel, as needed.
 
My recommendation, based on what this
has already done to you personally, is to settle.
 
I know you’re meeting with Jim and Nancy
at the end of the week to formulate a plan.
 
I suggest you think this over for a few
days.
 
I am more than happy to chat
with you again before you meet with them.”

Jenna felt the need to defend herself.
 
Walt had pieced together an impression
of her that was inaccurate.

“I’m taking your advice, by the way.
 
I have an appointment with a
psychiatrist tomorrow morning.”
 
Jenna hoped to prove to Walt that she was taking control.

Walt said, “Great.
 
Who is it?”

“His name is Evan Kendall.”

“I know him well.
 
In fact, he’s one of the names I would
have offered to you.
 
He’s a good
guy.
 
I think seeing him is a very
good idea.”

Jenna and Tom stood to leave, but not before
handing Walter Morey a check for five thousand dollars.

CHAPTER 58

Jenna arrived at Dr. Kendall’s office
fifteen minutes early.
 
Sitting in
the parking lot, she watched her hands shake as she rested them on the leather steering
wheel.
 
For Jenna, this was truly
rock bottom.
 
It was one thing to be
emotional and stressed, but it was quite another to admit that your emotions
were out of control.

Worker bees poured into the office
complex.
 
Remaining in her car,
Jenna watched the clock.
 
With
exactly seven minutes to spare, she exited the warmth of her Land Rover and
felt the frigid winter wind whip across her body.
 
To escape the bitter chill, she bolted
toward the building.

Jenna took the elevator up to the fourth
floor and walked into Dr. Kendall’s office.
 
The waiting room was dimly lit, with a
couch along one wall.
 
Classical
music played softly over the speakers.
 
On a coffee table sat a collection of magazines –
National Geographic
,
The New Yorker
, and
Newsweek
.
 
There was
another door, which apparently led to Dr. Kendall’s office.
 
On it was a sign that read, “Please be
seated until the doctor arrives.”
 

She nervously took a seat on the couch and
pulled out her phone, pretending to check email.
 

At exactly nine o’clock, the doctor’s door
opened.
 
A middle-aged man in a suit
walked out, avoiding eye contact with Jenna.
 
On his heels, Dr. Kendall emerged.
 
A slender man, Dr. Kendall was
clean-shaven with gray hair that was freshly trimmed.
 
His pants and dress shirt were
meticulously pressed.
 
He extended a
hand toward Jenna.
 

“Jenna Reiner?
 
I’m Dr. Kendall.
 
Please come in.”
 

The office had soft lighting and was furnished
with two oversized leather chairs and a leather couch.
 

“Please, make yourself comfortable.”
 

Jenna started to panic.
 
Even the insignificant decision of where
to plant her body strained her coping abilities.
 
She settled on sitting in the center of
the couch.
 
Dr. Kendall seated
himself in a leather chair across from her.

“I know from what you said on the phone that
you’re going through a tough lawsuit, and things have reached a peak.
 
I read the Tribune article after you
called me.
 
I can imagine that you’re
devastated.
 
Why don’t we start with
you telling me how you’re doing?”

Wetness dripped from Jenna’s eyes.
 
Dr. Kendall kindly slid a Kleenex box
toward her.
 

“I’m doing awful.
 
My hands won’t stop shaking.
 
My mind is racing.
 
I can’t concentrate.
 
I cry all the time.
 
I can’t sleep, and I hardly eat.
 
I’m angry, disgraced, and beaten
down.
 
I can barely function.
 
Sometimes I don’t even know how I get
from the morning to the night.
 
I
live in constant fear of which patient is going to sue me next.
 
Besides all that, things are great.”

Dr. Kendall listened intently.
 
Much to Jenna’s relief, he did not sit
there scribbling her words onto some note pad.
 
Nor had Dr. Kendall asked Jenna to tell
him about her mother or her dreams or any other kind of Freudian nonsense.
 

“How do you feel toward the patient that’s
suing you?”

It had been so long since Jenna considered
Michelle Hollings as a patient and not as a plaintiff, it took her a moment to
compose a response.
 

“At first, when I learned of the suit, I
felt incredibly guilty.
 
People
around me kept telling me that I hadn’t done anything wrong, but I still could
not shake the image of me plunging a deadly virus into my patient’s
bloodstream.
 
From the beginning,
though, I knew I’d grow to hate her, and I do.
 
She’s a lowlife scavenger.
 
It’s surreal to think that she once
trusted me enough to place her life in my hands.
 
Now, she turns around and does
everything she can to destroy me.”

“Every emotion you’re having is completely normal,”
said Dr. Kendall.

“Oh, so losing your mind is just part of the
process?” asked Jenna, her voice filled with sarcasm and pain.

“You’re not losing your mind.
 
What you’re describing is a normal
response to an escalating situation over which you have little control.
 
I’ve treated many physicians over the
years that have been in the middle of a lawsuit.
 
All the feelings you’re describing –
guilt, anxiety, dread, sadness, frustration, insomnia – these are all
very typical.
 

“That being said, we need to get you on some
medication that will help stabilize your mood, so you can focus.
 
I also think we need to continue to
meet.
 
For now, I’d like that to be
at least twice a week.
 
You’re going
through an intense ordeal, and things aren’t going to get any easier.
 
Once I see how you respond to the
medications, we can back off on the frequency of the visits.
 
Does that sound like a reasonable plan?”

Jenna blew her nose and nodded.
 
“What medications were you thinking of?”

“I think a benzodiazepine would be a good
choice.
 
Hopefully, it will help
with your tremor, and it will also help you sleep.”

“What about taking it at work?
 
Won’t I get in trouble?” Jenna asked
with concern.
 

She knew benzodiazepines were a controlled
substance, and the last thing she needed was to be caught with a mind-altering
drug in her system.

“If I prescribe it, then it’s fine.
 
In fact, you don’t even need to divulge
it.
 
If there is ever an issue, I
will defend you as your physician.
 
I’d also like to start you on an antidepressant.
 
The combination should help you feel much
better.”

For the first time in days, Jenna felt
hopeful.
 
The notion of not feeling
miserable was invigorating.
 

“How soon should I expect to feel any
changes?”

“With the benzodiazepine, right away.
 
With the antidepressant, you may feel
some changes immediately, but it typically takes four to five days before
patients start to notice any effects, and then about two weeks to reach maximal
effects.”

Jenna changed topics.
 
“Can I ask for your advice on
something?”

“Sure.”

“We were in the process of settlement
negotiations when the Tribune story broke.
 
The story made me so furious, I met with my lawyers on Monday and told
them I will not settle.
 
On their
advice, I had to meet with personal counsel yesterday.
 
That attorney’s advice was to
settle.
 
He said, in my emotional
state, I’d ruin the case.
 

“I know that settling would make this go
away, but in my heart of hearts, I can’t do it.
 
Every time I think of handing over a
huge check to the patient and her scumbag attorney after what they did to trash
me, I feel like part of my soul is dying.”

“Well,” said Dr. Kendall, “let me preface things
by reminding you that I’m not a lawyer.
 
That being said, I’ve treated many physicians facing a medical
malpractice suit.
 

“My personal opinion is that from the onset
of this story, going back to when Hillary Martin first made the news, I never
thought the doctors were to blame.
 
Hillary Martin?
 
Absolutely.
 
St. Augustine,
as her employer?
 
Probably.
 
But the anesthesiologists?
 
That seemed like a stretch.
 
If you trust your attorneys and they
have a strong defense, I would think you’d stand a reasonable chance of
vindicating yourself.

“As for your personal counsel, I’m sure he’s
a solid attorney, but to make a judgment about your emotional fortitude one day
after your being thrashed in the paper seems premature and presumptive.
 
As your psychiatrist, I think you’ll be
fine by the time the trial comes around.

“With respect to settling or going to trial,
I’ve seen many doctors face the exact same dilemma.
 
Of the doctors who chose to settle, I
would say at least ninety percent of them, when they look back on things six
months or even years later, wish they hadn’t.
 
Of those that continue to trial, it’s as
stressful and awful as everyone says, but most are glad they did it.”

Jenna thought about her doctor’s advice and
smiled slightly.
 
She was starting
to calm down.
 

“Usually, I get the lecture that this isn’t
about me.
 
But it is about me.
 
My pride is at stake.
 
My sense of right and wrong is on the
line.
 
I can’t stomach the thought
of rolling over and letting them rip my beating heart from my chest.
 
To me, that’s what settling feels like.”