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 or bleeding control? Expect them to throw out all sorts of these suggestions. I’ve seen it happen before. I don’t have to tell you that all they need is a little doubt in the juror’s minds.”
“Yes, I agree.”
“Also, when they attempt to hire a hematologist to testify against Dr. Harris, they will not be able to find one. No well-trained hematologist will be able to say that Dr. Harris’s treatment did not meet the standard of care. I might add that many surgeons would not have thought of, much less knew so much about DIC. So from that standpoint Dr. Harris is to be congratulated.”
Smiling, Betty Wu said enthusiastically, “I thought the same thing. There is no fault to be found in Dr. Harris’s actions and it is hard to believe a competent hematologist would testify to the contrary. But, that doesn’t mean they won’t be able to get a so called expert.”
Drossman said, “That’s exactly the point I was going to make. Be prepared for a general
internist, family practitioner, you name it. To most people a doctor is a doctor, and I’ve seen jurors accept some of the most outrageous medical suggestions made by a doctor trained in a discipline unrelated to the case at hand.”
“How well I know that. But, doctor, I would like to get back to the point you made about the plaintiff suggesting that Dr. Harris covered up a surgical mistake. Why would he ask the patient’s wife for permission to have the pathologist perform an autopsy if he made a mistake that clearly would be uncovered by the autopsy.”
“Let me play the plaintiff’s attorney and respond to that. You be the witness.”
“Okay.”
Drossman assumed a questioning pose, “How many autopsies are performed in this hospital each year?”
“I don’t know.”
“I don’t know either, but I can tell you that the number may be zero or it may be just a few. I know that, because those are national statistics. There are very few autopsies done in community hospitals in this day and age. Today we have CAT scans, ultrasound, MRI’s, MRA’s, PET scanners, sophisticated blood tests, and so on that allow ante-mortem diagnosis. In the old days people died of unknown causes. Today we only rarely have a patient die undiagnosed. When doctors ask the family for autopsy permission the answer is almost always no, so I say to you that Dr. Harris asked permission for the autopsy knowing full well that the odds were greatly in favor of the wife refusing. Smart move. Now Dr. Harris could say, “If I was hiding something why would I want an autopsy.” Admittedly that was taking a chance, but the odds were all in his favor, and now he’s got a good cover-up.”
Betty Wu said, “I understand what you say, but if he were really hiding something, a request for an autopsy now would really be risky. I don’t think I’d be that brave.”
“I’m not sure I would be either. Now let’s get on with the good news.”
“I’m ready.”
“I reviewed this chart minute by minute and made a judgment about Dr. Harris’s treatment as the patient’s clinical story unfolded. My suggestion for you is to take a week and study the report. Take notes and write down questions you may have. I would like you to prepare yourself by a careful study of my interpretation. When you’re ready, call my office and give my secretary some dates when you have the time for me to return. Then we’ll discuss my full report and I’ll answer any questions you may have. About three or four hours should do it. Does this sound like a good idea?
“Definitely. Thank you so much, doctor. I look forward to it.”
**********
Dr. John Velusi was the final interview by attorney Wu. A rapid-speaking man of short sentences, his comment was, “Dr. Harris did nothing wrong. The death was tragic, but not the fault of Dr. Harris. I’d be honored to defend him.”
The next potential witness for the defense of Dr. Madhava was Dr. Edward Torgerson, chairman of the anesthesia department at the University of Illinois. Paul Stuart met him in his downtown law office. Dr. Torgerson was dressed casually. A transplant from California, he didn’t believe in white shirt and tie. He stood five feet six inches tall, was partially bald, and his belly preceded him by six or seven inches.
“Good to see you again, Dr. Torgerson.”
As usual Dr. Torgerson got right to the point. “This case is bull-shit. I’ll take it. I’ll gladly defend Dr. Madhava. I hate to see a guy sucked into a case when he didn’t do a damn thing wrong.”
Without a moment’s hesitation Stuart said, “But he was reluctant to inject the heparin. They’ll pounce on him for that.”
“Let ‘em pounce. In the operating room, you legal guys have made the surgeon the captain of the ship. As long as he’s captain and passes out an order any failure to comply with that order by a subordinate is mutiny. Remember Captain Bligh? Dr. Madhava was a good member of the crew and did what he was told.”
“I
