Sued

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.”