subdued voice. This was an old secret that he'd never imagined would surface, especially not in a court of law. He had been reminded of it recently when he had to fill out the required form to renew his
Massachusetts medical license. Yet he thought that information was confiden- tial.
'Would you tell the jury what drug you were addicted to,' Davidson asked, stepping away from Jeffrey as if he was too revolted to remain too close to him for any longer than necessary.
'Morphine,' Jeffrey said with almost a defiant tone. 'It was five years ago. I had trouble with back pain after a bad bicycle accident.'
Out of the comer of his eye, Jeffrey saw Randolph scratching his right eyebrow. That was a previously arranged gesture to signal that he wanted
Jeffrey to confine himself to the question at hand and not offer any information. But Jeffrey ignored him. Jeffrey was angry that this irrelevant piece of his past was being dredged up. He felt the urge to explain and defend himself. He certainly wasn't a drug addict by any stretch of the imagination.
'How long were you addicted?' Davidson asked.
'Less than a month,' Jeffrey snapped. 'It was a situation where need and desire had imperceptibly merged.'
'I see,' Davidson said, lifting his eyebrows in a dramatic gesture of understanding. 'That's how you explained it to yourself?'
'It was how my treatment counselor explained it to me,' Jeffrey shot back.
He could see Randolph frantically scratching again, but Jeffrey continued to ignore him. 'The bicycle accident occurred at a time of deepening domestic strain. I was prescribed the morphine by an orthopedic surgeon. I convinced myself that I needed it longer than I actually did. But I realized what was happening in a few weeks' time and I took sick leave from the hospital and volunteered for treatment. And also marriage counseling,
I might add.'
'During those weeks, did you ever administer anesthesia while...'
Davidson paused as if he were trying to think how to word his question while you were under the influence?'
'Objection!' Randolph called. 'This line of questioning is ab surd! It's nothing short,of calumny.'
The judge bent his head down to look over the top of his
glasses, which had slid down his nose. 'Mr. Davidson,' he said patronizingly, 'we're back to the same issue. I trust that you have some cogent reason for this apparent excursion.'
'Absolutely, Your Honor,' Davidson said. 'We intend to show that this testimony has a direct bearing on the case at hand.'
'Objection overruled,' the judge said. 'Proceed.'
Davidson turned back to Jeffrey and repeated the question. He seemed to relish the phrase 'under the influence.'
Jeffrey glared back at the plaintiff attorney. The one thing in his life that he was absolutely sure of was his sense of professional responsibility, competence, and performance. The fact that this man was suggesting something else infuriated him. 'I have never compromised a patient,' Jeffrey snapped.
'That is not my question,' Davidson said.
Randolph got to his feet and said, 'Your Honor, I would like to approach the bench.'
'As you wish,' the judge said.
Both Randolph and Davidson went up to the judge. Randolph was obviously incensed. He began talking in a hoarse whisper. Even though Jeffrey was only ten feet away, he could not hear the conversation clearly although he did hear the word 'recess' mentioned several times. Eventually, the judge leaned back and looked at him.
64 Dr. Rhodes,' he said, 'your counsel seems to think you need a rest. Is that true?'
'I don't need any rest,' Jeffrey said angrily.
Randolph threw up his hands in frustration.
'Good,' the judge said. 'Then let's get on with this examination, Mr.
Davidson, so we can all get out for some lunch.'
,.All right, Doctor,' Davidson said. 'Have you ever administered anesthesia under the influence of morphine?'
'There may have been one or two times...' Jeffrey began, 'but--2'
'Yes or no, Doctor!' Davidson cut in. 'A simple yes or no is all I want.'
'Objection!' Randolph called. 'The counselor is not letting the witness answer the question.'
' Quite the contrary,' Davidson said. 'It's a simple question and I'm looking for a simple answer. Either yes or no.'
'Overruled,' the judge said. 'The witness will have a chance to elaborate on cross-examination. Please answer the question, Dr. Rhodes.'
'Yes,' Jeffrey said. He could feel his blood boil. He wanted to reach out and strangle the plaintiff attorney.
'Since your treatment for your addiction to morphine..
Davidson began, walking away from Jeffrey. He emphasized the words
'addiction' and 'morphine,' then paused. He stopped near the jury box, turned, then added: have you ever taken morphine again?'
'No,' Jeffrey said with forcefulness.
'Did you take morphine on the day you administered anesthesia to the unfortunate Patty Owen?'
'Absolutely not,' Jeffrey said.
'Are you sure, Dr. Rhodes?'
'Yesl' Jeffrey shouted.
'No more questions,' Davidson said, and he returned to his seat.
Randolph had done what he could on cross-examination, emphasizing that the addiction problem had been minor and shortlived, and that Jeffrey had never taken more than a therapeutic dose. Besides, Jeffrey had volunteered for treatment, had been certified 'cured,' and had not been subjected to any disciplinary action. But despite these assurances, Jeffrey and Randolph had both felt his case had been dealt a death blow.
Just then, Jeffrey was brought back to the present by the sudden appearance of a uniformed court officer at the door to the jury room. His pulse shot up. He thought the jury was about to be announced. But the court officer made his way over to the door to thejudge's chambers and disappeared.
Jeffrey's thoughts drifted back to the malpractice trial.
True to his word concerning its relevancy, Davidson brought the addiction issue back with further testimony that had been totally unexpected despite the discovery depositions. The first surprise came in the form of Regina
Vinson.
After the usual introductory questions, Davidson asked her if she had seen
Dr. Jeffrey Rhodes on the fateful day of Patty Owen's death.
'I did,' Regina said, staring at Jeffrey.
Jeffrey knew Regina vaguely as one of the evening OR nurses. He didn't remember seeing her on the day that Patty died.
'Where was Dr. Rhodes when you saw him?' Davidson asked.
'He was in the anesthesia alcove for operating room eleven,' Regina said, keeping her eyes directly on Jeffrey.
Again, Jeffrey had a premonition that something detrimental
to his case was c6ming, but he couldn't guess what it would be. He remembered working in room eleven for most of the day. Randolph leaned over and asked in a hushed voice, 'What is she leading up to?'
'I haven't the foggiest,' Jeffrey whispered, unable to break eye contact with the nurse. What disturbed him was that he could sense real hostility in the woman.
'Did Dr. Rhodes see you?' Davidson asked.
'Yes,' Regina replied.
All at once, Jeffrey remembered. In his mind's eye he saw the image of her startled face as she pulled the drape aside. The fact that he was sick that fateful day was something besides his addiction problem that he had
