During an otherwise normal workday, I was served a subpoena. I was being sued for malpractice. The trial itself took place eight years later and lasted for two weeks. The ordeal ended with the jury deliberating for 20-minutes, finding me and my two co-defendants free of any liability. All allegations of neglect and malpractice were dismissed.
When it was
done, my lawyers and the plaintiff’s lawyers shook hands, smiled, laughed, and
joked as-if this had all been a grand sports event. No hard feelings. For me, it had been no game. To this day I detest the plaintiff’s
attorneys who knew they had a weak case, who hoped for a quick out-of-court
settlement, and who, in court, had twisted and distorted facts in an attempt to
win the game, at any cost.
My initial
reaction in the aftermath of the trial was to deny any significant psychological
sequela. I was prepared to return to
work and carry on as-if nothing had changed.
But work did change, subtly. I
became a little more obsessive with each of my written notes. I became a little more cautious with patients,
second-guessing my decisions, wondering in the back of my head, who might be next
to sue. I began to enjoy work less and
less. And while the lawsuit was not the
only factor in my retirement, it was a significant factor.
Malpractice
and medical neglect occur. Patients need
protection and redress of grievances. But
sometimes bad outcomes occur despite good medical care. Given the nature of the work, healthcare
providers also need protection. There
must be a better way. The lawsuit hung
over my head for eight years. I estimate
that the total cost of the legal defense was in excess of one-million
dollars. Not added into the cost were
the many hours of lost clinical productivity. In the meantime, until and unless there is a
better system, we all bear the significant burden of cost in an already
cost-burdened health care system.
I think
about being on the witness stand. Remembering
my lawyer’s advice, I tried to not be provoked to anger. Under the plaintiff attorney’s accusatory and
seemingly mocking attack, I mostly recall feeling numb. At one point, the plaintiff’s attorney stooped
to a bit of courtroom theatrics yelling at me, “Dr. Boxer, are you prepared
here and now to apologize to this family!”
The judge quickly interrupted the proceeding, instructed me not to
answer, scolded the attorney and called for a brief recess.
Even to this
day, I repeat the answer I wish I could have made. “Yes, I am sorry that bad illnesses happen to
children. I am sorry that, due to a
serious illness, your child had many years of hardship and suffering. I am
sorry that good doctors and good nurses who devote their lives to the care of sick
children must defend their competence and integrity in these adversarial arenas.
That said, I am, in good conscience, unapologetic about the care I gave your child eight years ago.”