Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91504 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91504 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
I sigh. To the committee there might be a difference, but the end result was the same. People were dead because I buried my head in the sand, refused to see what was really going on with Connor.
“I need this over with, Martin.”
He took a deep breath and nodded. “An admission of medical misconduct is grounds to permanently revoke your license. Will you at least let me speak to the committee off the record on your behalf? Explain what really happened? At a minimum, I’d like to try to negotiate the disciplinary action they take.”
“Can you do that today, while we’re here?” It had been six months since Connor’s accident. While I was sure most people dreaded walking into the Department of Health’s Office of Professional Misconduct, I’d been marking the days off on my calendar, waiting. I needed to move on. And I couldn’t do that until I took responsibility for my actions—or my inactions, in this case.
“Yes. Give me an hour. I’ll go in and see what I can do before we start the official hearing.”
I hated to wait even one minute more, but following Martin’s recommendation on this was the very least I could do. Lord knows I hadn’t listened to any of his other advice. I nodded. “Sure. Thank you.”
“Great.” He pointed to a bench across the hall from the hearing room. “Have a seat. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
But I couldn’t sit. After Martin disappeared behind the closed door, I paced. Walking back and forth, I rehashed for the hundredth time how I’d gotten here.
Mr. Mankin. My patient who had been preparing for a trip down to Florida to visit his mother and needed a paper prescription to take with him. Only when I’d opened my desk drawer at the office, my prescription pad was gone. On the very afternoon that Connor had been alone in my office.
What had I done about it?
I’d ignored it.
I went home and got one of the other two prescription pads I stored in my home office desk.
Problem solved.
But I should’ve known.
I should’ve done something about it.
Not brushed my suspicions under the table.
Connor’s anger? Before his injury, he’d never once raised his voice to me the way he did after he started those pills the pain clinic prescribed. He’d also never had trouble sleeping. Or an inability to sit down and relax when he got home.
Side effects of OxyContin abuse: Mood swings. Anger. Difficulty sleeping. Restlessness.
What did I do about it?
Pretended not to see it.
Justified every single outburst. Looked the other way at every other flashing sign so I wouldn’t upset Connor.
But deep down I’d known. Hadn’t I?
I knew.
I might not be guilty of writing the prescription itself, but I’d buried my head in the sand. I’d failed.
As a wife.
As a doctor.
And so I paced. And paced. And paced. My lawyer had said he’d be out in less than an hour, but it was more like two that passed before the door opened again.
Martin shut the door behind him and blew out two cheeks full of air. “They want a year.”
“A year suspension?”
He nodded. “I tried everything. They’re not budging.”
I let that sink in. A year with no patients. It would be tough. But wasn’t I getting off easy compared to the Wright family? One year would likely fly by. I’d be back in my office in no time. But where would they be?
Still dead.
Still buried six feet beneath the ground.
I swallowed. “Okay.”
“They also want you to see a therapist during your suspension and for one year after your return to practice. As much as they’re holding you accountable, they also recognize that you’ve been through a lot, that you’ve experienced a big loss. They want to make sure your mental health is strong enough when you’re able to treat patients again.”
I nodded. “That’s fair.”
Martin took a deep breath. “Okay, then. We just need to go in so you can formally accept an admission of professional misconduct and then we’ll be on our way. You’ll be unable to practice medicine and see patients after today. They’ll allow you fourteen days to manage your practice—meaning direct your staff to call patients and cancel appointments or make arrangements for another psychiatrist to cover you during your suspension. After that, you won’t be able to have any involvement with your practice whatsoever. I recommend you not have contact with any staff or go into your office for any reason, in order to eliminate any appearance of impropriety. It’s best to make a clean break.”
“Okay.” I nodded.
“I should also warn you that there’s a group that could harass you once this becomes public record. It happened to another doctor I represented a few years back. They organized a protest outside his office. They go after doctors who get in trouble for selling scripts or overprescribing. The woman who started it lost her son when he fell asleep at the wheel and drove off the side of the highway. He was addicted to oxycodone. His doctor had written him something like forty prescriptions. This is a very different situation, so they shouldn’t give you any trouble. But I thought you should know.”