JANUARY FOURTH
When Hollis Sinclair heard the light knock on his office door he looked up from his computer. His administrative assistant, Maya, was staring at him with anxiety in her eyes.
“Dean Morales is here,” she said softly.
He took note of the time while at the same moment a sour look wrinkled his face. The last thing he wanted to do was see Helen Morales. He had been dreading the meeting since he had learned about it yesterday.
“She’s fifteen minutes early,” he said.
“Shall I ask her to wait?”
He shook his head a couple of times in annoyance before turning off his monitor.
“No, show her in.”
Maya withdrew, returning a few moments later to escort Helen into the office.
“Good morning,” Helen said, taking a seat in a highbacked chair in front of his desk.
“If you’ve come to share the GNS survival statistics with me, I’ve seen them,” he said. “It’s a little early in the day for gloating, isn’t it?”
“That’s not the purpose of my visit, Hollis. I wanted to let you know that your name has been removed from the list of those under consideration for the chief of neurology appointment.”
He leaned forward and curled his fingers around the edge of his desk.
“If you’re waiting for me to act surprised, you’ll be up way past your bedtime. I’ve been expecting some sort of juvenile retaliation like this for days.” He tossed his pen down on his desk and said, “I’ll stay on as acting chief for a few months while you recruit somebody because unlike some others around here, I have manners. I’ve already had several offers far better than the position I presently hold.”
“I’m afraid it’s not that simple, Hollis.”
“I beg your pardon.”
“There are those who are concerned you engaged in unprofessional behavior during the GNS crisis.”
With protruding eyes, he asked, “Really. Who thinks that?”
“I do,” Helen said unequivocally.
“The notion’s absurd and you know it. This is nothing but a witch hunt.”
“How many families did you ask to undergo a brain biopsy?”
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
Helen renewed her question. “How many?”
“Five or six, I guess. I felt the more information we had the better.”
“Did you promise any of them preferential treatment if they cooperated?”
“What do you mean by that?”
“It’s a simple question. Did you tell them they would be amongst the first treated with Vitracide if they agreed to the brain biopsy?”
“I don’t recall specifically, but supposing I did—what’s the difference? The country was in a crisis. I did what I felt I had to do. The families were desperate for answers. The times called for bold action, not your Pollyanna approach to things. And as I recall, there were a number of physicians and board members who wholeheartedly supported me.”
Helen couldn’t help rolling her eyes.
“I might have been able to overlook your gross insubordination toward me and maybe even the way you quietly leaked some key facts to the press against my instructions, but unethical behavior in the care of our patients is not something I’m prepared to ignore. In case you’ve forgotten, we’re not in the business of promising families preferential access to medications.”
“If that’s the extent of what concerns you, I think you should rethink things and—”
She held up her hand. “I’m not finished. The manufacturer of Vitracide contacted the FDA. They claimed that even though the drug was never administered, you used undue pressure to control its national distribution.”
“Let them try to prove it. My position is that I’ve done nothing unethical or inappropriate,” he responded with an uncaring shrug. “Any other news or advice you have for me, Dr. Morales?”
“As a matter of fact, there is. You’ll have to appear in front of the Professional Conduct Committee to answer allegations of improper and unethical behavior. You will be afforded full due process as prescribed by the medical staff bylaws. You will have ample opportunity to present your side of things.”
“I remind you, Dr. Morales, that I am a tenured professor at this university.”
“Tenure is an honor. It doesn’t imply blind exoneration for unscrupulous conduct.”
“I’m not without influence in this state,” he was close to shouting now. “If you force me, I’ll fight you all the way to the governor’s mansion.”
“You’re not a gubernatorial appointee, Hollis. The one who hired you was me.”
“I’ll tell you what really galls me about you. When was the last time you laid hands on a patient? I’m guessing…what, fifteen years ago? But that doesn’t stop you from having the unmitigated audacity to sit in judgment of those of us with the courage to face dying patients every day.” He picked up a report from his desk and began reading it. “You’re a disgrace to our profession. If you have any further communication for me, take it up with my attorney.”
“Why, Hollis,” she responded with a knowing grin as she came to her feet, “you may sling all the accusations at me you like, but if you’re spoiling for some ugly fight, you can forget it.”
“I know exactly what you’re doing,” he said with a snicker. Helen noticed a sheen of sweat on his forehead that hadn’t been there when she walked into his office. “You’re trying to force me to resign.”
“That’s a decision only you can make. But it’s an option I would urge you to consider carefully. You understand if Southeastern State decides to terminate your academic appointment, we would be unable to support any application you might make to another medical school.” Helen started for the door. “As I said, if I were in your position, I’d seriously examine all of my options.”