A soft knock brought Jeffrey back to the present. Carol was at the door again.
“Jeffrey!” she called. “Better come before it gets cold.”
“I’m on my way.”
Now that he knew too well what Chris had only begun to go through, Jeffrey wished he’d stayed in touch at the time. He could have been a better friend. And even after the man ended his life, all Jeffrey had done was attend the funeral. He had never even contacted Kelly, Chris’s wife, even though at the funeral he’d promised himself he would do so.
Such behavior wasn’t like Jeffrey, and he wondered why he’d acted so heartlessly. The only excuse he could think of was his need to repress the episode. The suicide of a colleague with whom Jeffrey could so easily identify was a fundamentally disturbing event. Perhaps facing it squarely would have been too great a challenge for him. It was the kind of personal examination that Jeffrey and doctors in general had been taught to avoid, labeling it “clinical detachment.”
What a terrible waste, he thought as he remembered Chris the last time he’d seen him, before all the tragedy struck. And if Carol hadn’t interrupted, mightn’t there be others thinking the same thoughts with respect to him?
No, Jeffrey thought vehemently, suicide wasn’t an option. Certainly not yet. Jeffrey hated to sound mawkish, but where there was life, there was hope. And what had happened in the aftermath of Chris’s suicide? With Chris dead, there was no one to defend or clear his name. For all his despair and developing depression, Jeffrey still was enraged by a system and process that had managed to convict him when he had honestly done no wrong. Could he really rest until he’d done his best to clear his name?
Jeffrey got angry just thinking about his case. To the lawyers involved, even Randolph, all this might be business as usual, but not so to Jeffrey.
This was his life on the line. His career. Everything. The great irony was that the day of the Patty Owen tragedy, Jeffrey had done his utmost to do well by her. He’d only run the IV and taken the paregoric so he could perform the job for which he’d been trained. Dedication was what had motivated him, and this was how he’d been repaid.
If Jeffrey ever was able to return to medicine, he would be afraid of the long-lasting effects this case would have on any medical decisions he would ever make. What kind of care could people come to expect from doctors who were forced to work in the current malpractice milieu and who had to restrain their best instincts and second-guess their every step? How had such a system evolved? Jeffrey wondered. It certainly wasn’t eliminating the few “bad” doctors, since they ironically rarely got sued.
What was happening was that a lot of good doctors were being destroyed.
As Jeffrey washed before descending to the kitchen, his mind dredged up another memory that he had unconsciously repressed. One of the best and most dedicated internists he’d ever met had killed himself five years ago on the same night he’d received a summons for malpractice. Shot himself through the mouth with a hunting rifle. He hadn’t even waited for the discovery process to begin, much less the trial. At the time Jeffrey had been disturbingly mystified, since everyone, knew the suit had been baseless. In fact the doctor had, ironically, saved the man’s life. Jeffrey now had some idea of the source of the man’s despair.
Finished in the bathroom, Jeffrey returned to his bedroom and changed into clean slacks and shirt. Opening his door, he smelled the food Carol had prepared. He still wasn’t hungry, but he’d make an effort. Pausing at the top of the stairs, he vowed to fight the depressive thoughts he was bound to experience until this current episode had run its course. With that commitment in mind he started for the kitchen.
TUESDAY,
MAY 16,1989
9:12 A.M.
Jeffrey woke up with a start and was amazed at the time. He’d first awakened around five A.M., surprised to find himself sitting in the wing chair by the window. Stiffly, he had removed his clothes and gotten into bed, thinking he would never be able to fall back asleep. But obviously he had.