“I was protecting my staff,” Eric answered, off-balance. “How did you even know about that?”
“We got a notice from the Board that the patient’s wife is filing a complaint. She alleges you committed a battery against her husband.”
“Are you kidding?” Eric groaned. “My attending, Sam Ward, was there and he knows the truth. So was my charge nurse. There’s nothing to it, nothing whatsoever.”
“I’m sure. Hundreds of these are filed a year, and very few have any merit. The Board of Medicine in Harrisburg will send an investigator, usually an ex-cop, to investigate the matter. It’s just unusual, because you’ve never been the subject of even a single charge.”
“This is meritless, absolutely.” Eric felt mortified.
Brad blinked. “Eric, you need not explain yourself to us, and in fact, you mustn’t.”
“Why not? How am I supposed to defend myself? You’re sitting here, making outrageous allegations, and I can’t let them go unrefuted.”
“Excuse me,” Brad said, raising his finger. “Let us be clear. We are making no allegations against you. We know you have a spotless record and we’re following procedure. We have had one or two such complaints, as regards the students on rotation, and the procedure is clear. There will be an investigation, which will be dealt with within a matter of days, because these things are taken very seriously.”
“Who investigates?”
“An independent investigator, usually outside counsel, performs the investigation. He meets and interviews with the complainant, any witnesses to any of the incidents which she makes allegations about. Were there any witnesses in the parking lot that night, that you recall?”
“No, there was no one.”
“What about to the other advances, for example, the ones she made against you?”
“No, there were no witnesses.”
“Did you tell anyone?”
“No.” Eric was kicking himself. He thought of the text Kristine had sent him, but it would look innocent, on its face.
“Fair enough.” Brad cleared his throat. “As I was saying, after the investigator meets with her and any other witnesses, he will then meet with you. Concurrent with the factual investigation, our procedure also provides for a ‘collegial intervention.’”
“What’s that?”
“It will be held today, at one thirty, and it’s an inquiry to determine whether there is an impairment issue that we should know about.”
“What impairment issue?” Eric blurted out, then it dawned on him. “You think I have a drug issue?”
“No, Eric. Again, this is merely our procedure, and Mike can tell you”—Brad gestured generally in Mike’s direction, but the lawyer kept making his notes without looking up—“that we have to follow procedures for liability purposes. The purpose of the Physician Impairment Committee is to examine if there’s any drug, alcohol, or mental health issue.”
“But there isn’t.” Eric’s head started spinning. He had heard rumors of impairment issues in the Anesthesiology Department, which made sense because they had easy access to pain meds like Oxycontin and Vicodin, but it was a rarity in psychiatry. “And what’s the Physician Impairment Committee? Who’s on it? I never heard of it.”
“It’s ad hoc, formed for each specific case. In your case, there will be three committee members—myself, Tom, sitting as Chair of Psychiatry, and third, your attending, Sam Ward.”
“Sam? He reports to me, for God’s sake. I’m his boss. Isn’t that a conflict of interest, besides the fact that it’s completely humiliating?”
“I understand, but those are the rules and regulations.”
“What rules and regulations? Where are you getting them from?”
“Eric, please keep your voice down.” Brad glanced toward the door. “This is confidential, for your own protection.”
“Eric, by the way,” Mike added, “I’m advising you not to discuss this matter with anyone.”
“Of course I wouldn’t,” Eric shot back. “Do you think I want to give it more currency than it already has?”
“It goes without saying that you won’t raise the subject with the complainant.”
“Of course not—” Eric stopped himself, to clarify something. “Wait, Kristine’s going to work on my unit, after this?”
“Yes, she has another week in her rotation, according to our records.”
“But why would she still want to work for me, someone who supposedly has been sexually harassing her? Forcing myself on her in parking lots? Doesn’t that prove how false these allegations are? What a liar she is?”
“Not necessarily.” Mike pursed his lips. “If I may play the devil’s advocate, she would say that she has no choice. If her allegations were true, she shouldn’t have to quit.”
“But they’re not true!”
“Even so,” Mike continued calmly. “It’s common in any employment context for a complainant to keep working after they’ve filed a sexual harassment or discrimination lawsuit.”
“So we can’t fire her?”
“No. First, she’s not our employee. Second, firing a complainant for filing charges of sexual harassment or other discrimination is unlawful retaliation. Don’t take any action vis-à-vis her at all, not even a reprimand, in the time she has left.”
“Well that’s just great, isn’t it?” Eric felt blocked in. “How am I supposed to have someone work for me who’s utterly dishonest? Whom I can’t trust at all? Who would do something like this? I wouldn’t let her near a patient now. The woman is delusional at best, and a liar, at worst.”
“It can’t be helped. My advice is to have as little to do with her as possible and never be alone with her, for any reason.” Mike picked up a folder from the seat beside him and extracted a photocopied booklet, about seventy pages long. “Now, in answer to your question, the pertinent rules and regulations are in the medical staff bylaws, and in case you don’t have a copy, we Xeroxed one for you. Let’s take a moment to look together at Appendix F, which are the guidelines for addressing disruptive behavior.”
“Disruptive behavior?” Eric repeated in disbelief.
“Bear with me.” Mike was already opening the pamphlet, flipping toward the back, and finding the page, then he turned it around to show Eric. “Look, here. ‘Disruptive behavior’ is defined as ‘conduct that undermines a culture of safety and adversely impacts the quality of patient care or continued effective operation of the hospital’”—Mike pointed to the paragraph, moving his index finger as he read aloud—“and includes, without being limited to, ‘verbal or physical abuse of colleagues or staff; threatening or intimidating behavior exhibited during interactions with colleagues; offensive conduct; and sexual harassment.’”
Eric tried to follow, but the words swam before his eyes.
Mike continued reading, “‘The aforementioned disruptive behavior interferes with operations and as such, is adverse to our mission and will not be tolerated and renders the employee subject to discharge.’”
Discharge? Eric could lose his job because of these lies? His reputation would be ruined. What effect would it have on his custody case if he were found guilty of sexual harassment? Or if he were even suspected of sexual harassment?
“Eric,” Mike said, setting the pamphlets aside. “You do not need a lawyer to go with you before the Physician Impairment Committee. I will not be present at the Physician Impairment Committee, that’s why it’s called a collegial intervention. It’s strictly physicians only.”
“But it has a legal impact.” Eric struggled to think clearly. The whole thing was surreal. “You’re telling me I could lose my job depending on what they find.”
“No one has ever taken a lawyer into a Physician Impairment Committee, and in my view, you do not need one. This is a factual investigation, and if your side of the story is correct, as I’m sure it is, you will prevail.”
“My side of the story is the truth, and of course it will prevail.” Eric rose. “I assume t
he meeting is over. I’m holding up my staff meeting.”
“Eric, you can’t leave just yet.” Brad rose, gesturing to Tom. “Tom, uh, has something left to say.”
Tom got up, his hand in his pocket. “Eric, the procedures call for one last thing.”
“What?” Eric asked, trying to stay in control.
“You have to take care of this, right now.” Tom withdrew his hand from his pocket and set a clear plastic jar with a screwtop lid on the glistening conference table.
Eric couldn’t believe his eyes.
“Sorry, Eric. We need a urine sample.”
Chapter Thirty-one
Eric got off the elevator on Wright, still stunned. He had never in his life been asked to pee in a cup, though he’d ordered it every day on his unit, from drug abusers and the like. The notion humiliated him, and he’d barely been able to hide the shame he felt when he’d left the men’s room on the administrative floor and had to palm his urine sample, so that Dee Dee didn’t see it while he discreetly passed it to Mike. Eric had had the crazy thought that he should throw it at him, but it wasn’t Mike’s fault, it was Kristine’s.
Eric walked to the door of the psych unit, swiped his ID card, got his keys from his pocket, and unlocked the door. It pissed him off no end that he had to deal with bogus personnel problems when Max was still missing, perhaps even dead, and there were real patients on his unit who needed him. It was even ridiculous that he had to start his day late for such nonsense, and that they had to delay the staff meeting. It would back him up on his treatment rounds and for the entire day. He entered the security airlock, then unlocked the other door.
He let himself into the unit, passed the nurses’ station and TV lounge, and spotted Amaka striding toward him, holding a stack of files, so he plastered a smile on his face. “Honey, I’m home,” Eric said, then realized he probably wasn’t allowed to joke around that way anymore.
“Did they give you a bonus or at the very least, a knighthood?” Amaka asked, with a spreading smile.
“Not quite.” Eric knew she would expect a report because a meeting upstairs was a big deal. “They wanted to talk over the details about the marketing campaign, the rollout, and things like that.”
“The rollout?” Amaka chuckled softly. “Listen to you.”
Eric didn’t even know where he had heard that term. He didn’t even know why he’d said it. “Yes, I’m a marketer now. I sell healing.”
“So when is the rollout?”
“I forget. It was the usual blah blah blah. Let’s get the day started.” Eric walked down the hallway, and Amaka walked with him.
“By the way, did you hear the rumor? Everyone’s saying that you’re going to renegotiate your contract after the rankings, and you’ll leave if they don’t meet your terms.” Amaka looked over with a mild frown. “You wouldn’t leave us, would you?”
“Of course not, don’t worry about it.”
“I’m only telling you this because I’m your friend.”
“I know, thanks.” Eric smiled again at Amaka. “Why don’t you go assemble the troops?”
“You mean herd the cats.”
“Ha!” Eric said, heading into his office, dropping off his messenger bag, and trying to get his act together. But when he came out, he spotted Sam in the hallway, walking ahead of him toward the conference room.
Eric stiffened, assuming Sam already knew about the sexual harassment claim because the Physician Impairment Committee meeting was scheduled for 1:30 today. The thought mortified him, but he had to hold his head high and keep going. He had a meeting to hold, patients to serve, and a unit to run. He’d always liked Sam, and he’d thought it was mutual, but he wondered what Sam would think of him, now.
“Good morning, Chief,” Sam said, turning to him with a smile. “Everything okay?”
“Yes, fine.” Eric could barely look Sam in the eye. “How’s everything on the unit?”
“Everybody’s fine and finishing breakfast.”
“How’s Perino?”
“I checked on him, and he’s stable.”
“And Leah Barry?”
“I’m worried about her and I discussed it with David. Amaka will tell us what the nurses said last night, but she seems stuporous to me. Her dosages are too high.”
“Good to know.” Eric fell into step beside Sam and they walked into the conference room together. David and Jack filed in after them, talking to each other, then the psych techs came in with two of the caseworkers. Eric became aware that even though he stood with Sam, he kept checking the door, waiting for the moment when Kristine walked in. “So. What else is new?”
“Nothing.” Sam blinked.
“How was your son’s game the other night?” Eric was showing he was still the Chief, a sort-of family man, and never the subject of a valid sexual harassment claim.
“They won, actually.” Sam smiled, his eyebrows lifting in mild surprise, because they rarely talked about anything but the unit and the patients.
“Good.” Eric was too distracted to make small talk, and his mouth felt dry. “We should have a coffee machine here, don’t you think? Why is there only one on the unit?”
“I know, right?”
“We meet here every day, yet we get the coffee from the coffee room and bring it here.” Eric wondered if Kristine would show up for work.
“Come to think of it, we should, Chief. We can make our own lousy coffee here. We don’t have to import it.”
“Agree.” Eric forced a smile. He hoped that Kristine had called in sick.
“Then it’s a plan. Now, how many forms do we have to fill out to get a new coffee machine?” Sam chuckled at his own joke.
“I’ll treat us, how about that? Cut through the red tape.”
“I’ll split it with you.”
Just then Kristine walked in the door, talking quietly with the other medical student, and Eric had to hide his astonishment at her appearance, which had completely changed. Gone was her perfect makeup and the glossy hair that even he could tell was blown-dry. She had on a pair of oversized tortoiseshell glasses, so she must’ve been wearing contacts lenses during her entire rotation, and her hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail. She wasn’t wearing her usual dress, but a navy blazer with a white shirt underneath and khaki pants. Even though she was still attractive, it was in a daughterly way, like the smart-girl next door.
Eric’s thoughts raced. He didn’t know what she was doing or why she was doing it, unless they were interviewing her today for the investigation. He kicked himself for not asking when that was taking place. He didn’t know how she thought she would get away with it, anyway. Everybody on the unit knew the way Kristine dressed; she was famously the pretty one, the Girl Who Dressed Too Hot For Work. But no one on the Physician Impairment Committee would know any of that, except Sam. Meanwhile, Eric turned back to Sam, who was saying something about choosing the best coffee machine.
“… it does taste better, and you get a hot cup that way, but it’s terrible for the environment. All those plastic cups, they end up in landfills. Did you read about that garbage island in the Pacific? It’s twice the size of Texas. It’s been there a hundred years, and if this keeps up, we’ll ruin the entire ecosystem…”
“Right.” Eric kept his eyes pointedly from Kristine, who took her customary seat with the other medical student, their heads bent in unusually earnest conversation. It struck him that Kristine could have told the medical student about the sexual harassment claim. They talked about juicy gossip all the time; Caitlin called it girl drama when the female lawyers in the D.A.’s Office did it. Certainly the Dean of Jefferson Medical School knew and others on his staff.
Amaka took her seat, motioning to Eric to get his attention. “Chief, you said you wanted to get started.”
“Right, yes, of course.” Eric realized that he and Sam were the only ones left standing. He fled to his chair at the head of the table, pulling it out. “Amaka, talk to us.”
“Good
news, to begin with.” Amaka opened the first folder on the top of her stack. “It appears that Mr. Echeverria had another good night’s sleep and continues to improve.”
Eric noticed that Kristine was still whispering to the other medical student. He would usually let that slide, especially among the staff in the back row, but today it unnerved him.
“He slept seven hours, was compliant with medication, and had another nice visit with his family, including his young son. The child drew a very nice picture. He hung it up.”
Jack snorted. “I saw it. My dog could do better.”
David snorted. “My cat could do better.”
“That’s enough,” Eric snapped, on edge. Silence dropped like a stage curtain, with gazes shifting around the table. The attendings joked around at every meeting, but he was displacing his anger. It was Kristine he wanted to tell to shut up, but he caught himself. If he told her to stop, would it draw more attention to them both? Would it piss her off? Would she use it against him? Was it retaliation under the sexual harassment law?
Amaka glossed over the awkward moment. “Mr. Echeverria has one day left on his insurance. Jack wants to discharge him today. Chief, approve?”
“I’ll take a look at him on treatment rounds and decide then.” Eric was punting, but he couldn’t think clearly enough with Kristine still whispering, a continuing hiss like a steam kettle, building up pressure.
“Moving on,” Amaka continued, shifting her file to the next patient, running through the vitals, the particulars, and the nurses’ notes …
Eric zoned Amaka out, her clipped words drowned out by Kristine’s hissing. All he could think of was how many people in addition to Sam or the other medical student knew about the sexual harassment claim. If one person told another person and they told three other people, then by noon today, twenty-five more people would know. It could ruin his reputation, even if he was cleared of the claim. People would always wonder whether he, the newly single top doc, had harassed young Kristine.
“Kristine, stop it!” Eric blurted out, his head swiveling to look at her, and she met his eye behind her glasses, apparently guilelessly. The room went silent again, with everyone looking at him curiously. Eric realized from their bewilderment that Kristine had already stopped whispering. He’d been responding to the hissing in his head, as if he were one of his patients suffering from delusions, not their doctor, here to heal them.