I finished my patient calls, then I made one for myself. I needed to talk to someone about this malpractice thing, so I called Sam’s house. After four rings the answering machine picked up. I didn’t leave a message.
I headed for my mother’s. I knew she couldn’t give me much in the way of advice. She’d never sued or been sued, and I’d bet the only time she’d ever spoken to a lawyer was about Dad’s will. But at least I could count on a friendly ear.
Or so I thought.
Timmy was there and I was glad for that. He’s more of the world than Mum. I sat both of them down in the living room where that landscape still didn’t hang straight, and told them about the summons and some of the details of the case—all without naming names, of course.
Timmy grumbled and Mum patted my knee. “Anyone can make a mistake, Norrie. It’s human nature.”
I felt my jaw drop. “Weren’t you listening? I didn’t make a mistake.”
“But you must have.”
“Thanks a lot, Mum.”
“Oh, I feel for you, love, but maybe you missed some tiny little thing. Lord knows they can’t sue you for nothing.”
“Of course they can. And they are.”
She looked shocked. “But that’s… they can’t do that.”
I should have expected this. My mother is someone a defense attorney would least want on a jury. Her mindset goes something like: If they arrested you, you must be guilty. If you’re innocent, they wouldn’t have bothered with you because the police have too much else on their plates to be wasting their time with innocent people.
She has this thing for authority figures. Loves them. The ultimate authority is, of course, God. And the ultimate human authority is the Pope, because God speaks through him.
She loves rules. Ten commandments aren’t nearly enough. I’m sure she wishes there were twenty, thirty, a hundred. The more the merrier.
“Well,” I said, “they can do that and they are.”
“It’s all part of the plan,” Uncle Timmy said. “They’re looking to drive out good doctors like you, Norrie, and leave us without medical care.”
Mum said, “Now Timmy—”
“It’s true, Kate, and you know it. Do you think you’ll ever hear of that quack Hansford being sued? Never.”
“Don’t you talk about him like that. He’s a good doctor.”
My mother goes to a doctor only when she’s got no choice. One foot in the grave? Maybe she’ll seek medical advice. She started with Dr. Hansford when she came to town and has stuck with him ever since. He hasn’t killed her yet.
“He’s a quack,” Timmy said. “That’s why they want him in practice and a real doctor like Norrie out.”
I knew I shouldn’t ask, but I had to. It’s like coming upon a button labeled Do Not Touch. Some of us simply have to press it.
“Who’s ‘they’ this time, Tim?”
“The usual suspects: the Internationalists at the UN.”
My mother rolled her eyes. “Don’t start with that rubbish again.”
“Not rubbish. It’s a truth no one will admit to, one that will not stand the light of day. And it’s no secret. The UN is controlled by the Masons, who’re also controlling the legal profession. They’re all Masons, you know. All of them. The trial lawyers take the heat, but the defense lawyers are right there all cozy with them in the same bed. And why not? Every time one ambulance-chasing lowlife files suit, the poor victim has to hire another lawyer to defend him. One hand’s always washing the other, you see.”
“Not all lawyers are bad,” Mum said.
Timmy nodded. “Right. Some are dead.”
I said, “But what’s all this—?”
He held up a hand. “Let me finish now. The Internationalists, the New World Order, call them what you will, they’ve had their covetous eyes trained on the US for more than a century now. Plan after plan to bring us down has failed. That COVID virus almost succeeded but our doctors saved us. This malpractice scheme is their latest: Sue the good doctors until they can no longer afford the insurance premiums, driving them out of practice, thus leaving the country defenseless against the next pandemic they launch. When the hospitals are overflowing and we’re dying in the streets, they’ll step in to ‘save’ us. But that’ll be just a smoke screen to hide their real purpose: Taking us over so they can run our country like they run the rest of the world.”
Timmy’s theory was one of the most ridiculous things I’d ever heard, right up there with Princess Diana being abducted by aliens just before the car crash.
And yet… I found it somehow attractive. A part of me wished it were true. Maybe because emotionally I could more easily handle the idea that I was a pawn in a game fixed by a huge, shadowy international cartel or coalition; at least if someone eliminates or defeats that group, everything will return to normal.
The truth was more discouraging, more difficult to deal with: I could do everything right and still be sued. And even when—when, not if—I was exonerated, my malpractice premiums would rise, not because I’d been negligent, but merely because I’d been sued. And at no point would the lawyer or the plaintiff be liable for a cent.
This is the way the system works—the way it was designed to work. And it isn’t going to change. Because the reforms necessary for change have to come from the legislature. And ninety-nine per cent of legislators are—surprise—lawyers.
Might as well ask a shark to limit its feeding to certain times of day and only around certain reefs.
Mum was shaking her head. “Maybe you should think again about this doctor thing, Norrie. If you got married and settled down with a husband and had babies, you wouldn’t have to worry about being sued.”
Doctor thing?
“I’m only thirty-two, Mum.”
She pointed at me. “Your clock is ticking away, and you know what I mean. I’d like at least one grandchild before I go to my grave. Heaven knows, you and Sean are cut from the same cloth. He should be the father of three by now.”
Timmy glanced my way at her mention of Sean. We both knew my brother would not be bringing any children into the world.
Mum wasn’t finished. “Two children who don’t want children! What did I do to deserve this?”
“I do want children, Mum. I just don’t want them yet.”
She shook her head and I leaned back and closed my eyes. I’d come for some bucking up but now I was only more depressed.
I fended off Mum’s offers of food—she’d gone the beef stew route tonight. I’d skipped lunch because the summons had stolen my appetite, but I still wasn’t hungry. And even if were… I never did like Mum’s beef stew.
I did accept a cup of coffee, then headed for home.