Bad Blood. James Baehler

Bad Blood - James Baehler


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would agree with that, but that’s not what I hear happens with some hired guns.”

      “Sad, but true, Cliff. Do you have any suggestions of a hematologist we can use?”

      “We have a good hematology group in the hospital where I practice, but I’m wondering if it would be better to go outside to academia and get someone who doesn’t know me.”

      “That’s good thinking for one inexperienced in the legal system. Any recommendations?”

      “Locally?”

      “Preferable.”

      Dr. Harris thought for a few seconds and then offered, “Doctor Glen Drossman, chief of hematology at Loyola University. I heard him lecture once on heparin use in surgery.”

      “Good, he may be perfect. What about a general surgeon? We’ve used Dr. John Velusi, chief of surgery at Michael Reese.”

      “Yes, I know him.”

      “How well?”

      “I met him once at a surgical conference where he was on a surgical panel. I was introduced to him and we shook hands. I doubt he would even remember me.”

      “That’s good. He’s a superb expert witness, passionate about any case he believes in. I’ll get in touch with both of these gentlemen.”

      “Thank you, Betty. That gives me a little more confidence.”

      “What I’d like to do is send them your records. In the meantime I’ve got more boning up to do on your case and its details. I’ll interview the experts one at a time and then you and I will get together. In that way I’ll be more thoroughly prepared to have a good discussion with you and get your viewpoint and tell you what the experts have to say.”

      “That makes sense. I appreciate that.”

      “So when I’m ready, I’ll call you and we’ll meet again.”

      “Yes, it’s been a pleasure meeting you. Thank you.”

      Dr. Harris went down to the lobby of the large high-rise office building. Laurel was there. They had driven down town together, and she had gone shopping while he had his interview.

      “How’d it go,” Laurel asked as they walked across the street to the La Salle Pub.

      “Good. I had a long talk with the attorney. She seems very experienced and knowledgeable.”

      “She?”

      “Yeah. Good looking too.”

      “Better looking than me?”

      “Impossible.”

      “I bet you tell that to all the girls.”

      They sat down and ordered lunch. Laurel asked, “How are you doing?

      “Good, why?”

      “Well, since we first heard about this case, and we had that great research project that first evening, you’ve changed. I think reality has set in. You’re different. Quieter. A little withdrawn. Are you worried?”

      “It doesn’t leave my mind, if that’s what you mean.”

      “That’s what I thought.”

      He reached for her hand and grasped it tightly. “If I should lose, we’re bankrupt.”

      “You won’t lose,” she said confidently.

      “That’s a relief,” Cliff said with a laugh.

      With a warm smile, Laurel said, “I won’t let you get jumpy. You need to learn how to relax. We’ll have to do more research.”

      “We will? Then I hope I have more malpractice suits if that’s what it takes. You’re one class act, lady. I still can’t get my eyes off you just like when I bumped into you at the U. of I.”

      “You can bump into me again any time.”

      Cliff and Laurel finished their brunch making jovial small talk, beneath which, lay their unspoken fears about the outcome of the malpractice suit.

      CHAPTER 8

      Sanjay Madhava, M.D. visited his malpractice attorney. They shook hands and this almost gave Dr. Madhava a neck strain as he had to look up at attorney, Paul Stuart, handsome, dark hair, penetrating eyes, six foot four and with the build of a professional wrestler. Before Stuart could say a word, Dr. Madhava blurted out, “I don’t belong on this suit. What are chances of getting me dismissed.”

      Stuart calmly replied, “I don’t blame you, doctor, and I assure you we always strive for that goal if possible, but to reach it we need to provide the judge with a very good reason. The big issue will be the heparin injection.”

      “Dr. Harris insisted it be used.”

      “I can appreciate that, doctor, and it will be my job to convince the jury likewise. We will study the medical chart carefully and be fully prepared to defend your actions if this suit comes to trial. We need an expert witness anesthesiologist to testify on your behalf. We’ve used Dr. Torgerson from the University of Illinois and I plan to send him the record. Do you know him?”

      “He’s well known I’ve seen him at meetings. I never met him though.”

      “Does he meet with your approval.”

      “Oh yes.”

      “I’ll need your curriculum vitae and I want you to write up what happened from your standpoint as you understand it. We’ll meet every so often. The plaintiff’s attorney will depose you when they’re ready. Have you ever been involved in a deposition?”

      “No.”

      “We’ll be with you during the depositions and we’ll advise you a few days before you go.”

      “Okay. Thank you.”

      Betty Wu contacted Glen Drossman M.D. who agreed to consult as an expert witness. His hematology expertise was well recognized throughout the United States, and he was considered a world authority on coagulation, thrombotic and platelet disorders. All of these were relevant to DIC. It would be difficult for anyone to dispute the opinion of Dr. Drossman, so Dr. Harris was hopeful that Dr. Drossman would see the case as he saw it. Betty Wu sent him a copy of the record and scheduled him to see her in two weeks. He arrived at her office with the record and nine pages of single spaced type written notes. He was a soft-spoken man with an air of confidence that comes with long concentration and a lifetime of work on a specific medical topic. He was fifty-eight years of age, and headed up the hematology section at Loyola for twenty-two years. His glasses and neatly trimmed salt and pepper beard gave him a professorial air. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Wu. First let me say that I will gladly testify for Dr. Harris. I haven’t asked around about him, nor have I checked his curriculum vitae, but judging from his thought processes, which are well described in the medical record, I believe he is an excellent and knowledgeable physician.”

      “That’s great to hear, doctor. I had a similar impression.”

      “Here is a copy of the resons for my conclusions. I would like to go over them with you, so you will be better prepared to defend your client. In addition, I believe I could play the devil’s advocate and suggest to you what tactics the plaintiff’s attorneys may take.”

      “That would be most helpful, doctor.”

      Drossman said, “Let’s get the bad news out of the way first. “First you’ll have to be prepared for the plaintiff’s attorneys to make the suggestion that Dr. Harris did indeed make a surgical mistake and covered it up. Even though he had a surgical assistant, sometimes they just hold retractors and don’t get involved in the actual fine surgical techniques and could easily miss a small error by the surgeon. Did he fail to ensure hemostatsis


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