“Am I to understand your implication that you’ve done this sort of thing before?” Dr. Star asks.
“Not exactly,” I answer. “But I know for a fact that each one of us have gone out of our way and crossed one line or another in order to help a patient. Dr. Jepsen,” I start, “you give out free samples of medication to patients who can’t afford the prescription, and I’m not just talking about one or two doses.”
This isn’t going to end well for me, but I’m already in it so I may as well continue.
“Dr. Star, you’ve made house calls to your patients and taken hospital property with you when they can’t make it out of their houses,” I continue. “Dr. Quinten, you’ve been in a longstanding battle with the administration of this hospital over not allowing low-income patients of yours to stay in the hospital as long as you think they should be allowed, and it’s even your position that the hospital should write off the majority of medical bills for those patients you know can’t afford treatment any other way.
“And, Dr. Belkin, you’ve come in on your days off to meet with patients who took a bad turn. If I’m not mistaken, you’ve even gone so far as to treat patients when you were on mandatory leave — that mandatory leave, by the way, having been ordered because you refuse to take a day off and the hospital was concerned you were going to burn out.”
“What’s your point?” Dr. Preston asks.
“My point is that I know what I did was unethical and I know that you’re going to have no choice but to seek discipline for my actions, but isn’t it about time that we stop worrying so much what drug companies and insurance companies think and just start doing what’s actually best for our patients?”
I already know I’ve lost all hope of any kind of leniency, but that’s no reason for me to shut up now.
“I understand the reason for not having personal relationships, particularly to the level of my relationship with Grace Miller,” I tell the committee. “There’s objectivity, and there’s objectivity. While none of us may be capable of complete objectivity, this kind of relationship can cloud judgment to the point where we actually harm the patient in the process of saving them. Maybe that’s what I’ve done here, maybe not. I’m sitting here before you today not to pretend ignorance of the rules and codes, possibly laws, that I’ve broken, but because it is my job to treat my patients the best way I possibly can. So let me save you all a lot of time. I did what I’m accused of doing. I knew it was in violation of the rules. I am not sorry that I did it, and I would do it again.”
There, I feel better.
I’ve just torpedoed my career, but I feel better.
“Dr. Churchill, if you’ll excuse us,” Dr. Preston says.
“Yeah,” I answer, standing.
I’m sure that all of them had more questions, but I made it really easy for them. I did what they say I did and I did it knowing that I was breaking the rules.
I walk out of the room, not anticipating a long discussion.
More than once, I pull out my phone because I want to talk to Grace. I want to see how she’s doing, and I want to be with her. More than anything, I just want to talk to her.
After that day in the chemo lab of Parkside Hospital, she hasn’t been answering her phone or her door.
This round of chemo is over, though, and the plans I made after leaving Melissa in my apartment that night are almost complete.
The hearing was going to go the way it was going to go even if I didn’t accuse pretty much everyone else in the room of impropriety. The hearing was always going to end the way it’s about to end.
Whether it’s my whole career or just the immediate future of it, one way or another, this is going to put a mark on my record that’s never going to come off, and I’m sure that at the very least I’m going to get fired.
I can’t do anything about that. What matters, though, is what happens after the hearing. Whether I have a viable career or not, there’s something I need to know.
Deliberations, as I thought they would be, are short. Dr. Preston opens the door and tells me that they’ve come to a decision.
I rise once more and adjust my tie before following him back into the room. There’s a part of me that still has hope, but that’s the stupider part of me.
Everyone in the room is looking at me intently as I walk back in, but nobody speaks. We all know where this is going and how it’s going to end. Dr. Star even looks like she feels bad regarding what’s about to happen. That doesn
’t mean she’s going to do anything about it.
“Dr. Churchill,” Dr. Preston starts. “I want to begin by saying that the committee recognizes that you are a talented physician who has, in the past, been a credit to our hospital. However, in light of the events surrounding your treatment of Grace Miller, specifically the falsifications that took place…”
He trails off when somebody’s phone starts ringing. I wish it was less obvious that the phone is mine. No doubt it’s Yuri calling for the 16th time since she blew the whistle on me.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him, pressing the mute button. “Please go on.”
“…and the inappropriate nature of the relationship between you and this patient,” he continues, “this committee has no choice but to find you in breach of hospital policy and the ethical standards of this profession according to the AMA. It is not lost on us, Dr. Churchill, that you performed this fraud in order to provide your patient with a chance she wouldn’t have had otherwise, but this does not excuse your actions.
“To that end, it is the finding of the board that you should be suspended without pay for a period of no less than four weeks, effective immediately, after which, we will reconvene to decide where to go from there. I want to impress upon you, Dr. Churchill, that despite your protests that any other doctor would behave as you have, we do have rules, and those rules are there for your protection, the hospital’s protection, and the protection of our patients.”