CHAPTER FIFTEEN B: THE PATIENT’S DAUGHTER
A woman named Erin Whitcomb called my office on Wednesday afternoon and asked whether I was Claire Donnelly.
Her voice sounded familiar, although I could not place it until she mentioned her father’s name.
Her father was the patient injured during the transfer.
I had not spoken to his family since the center removed me from clinical duties.
Erin said she had received a notice that the licensing case was being reopened.
She wanted to know whether I would tell her what had happened in the room.
I told her I could not discuss private medical details over an unexpected call.
She said she understood and asked whether my attorney could contact the family’s representative.
I wrote down her number and passed it to Vanessa.
That evening, Vanessa called to say the family had agreed to a meeting with counsel present.
We met two days later in a conference room at a community center.
Erin arrived with her younger brother, Daniel, and a woman who introduced herself as their attorney.
Erin carried a folded sheet of paper that she kept smoothing against the table.
She said the center had told them I had ignored a transfer protocol and tried to conceal the mistake afterward.
I told her I had objected to the staffing assignment before the transfer began.
Daniel asked why I had continued if I knew the assignment was unsafe.
His question hurt because it was the same one I had asked myself every night.
I explained that their father needed urgent repositioning after an equipment fault and that delaying the intervention had carried its own risks.
I said I should have insisted that the supervisor come into the room before the transfer continued.
I did not claim the choice had been easy or that my judgment had been flawless.
Erin asked whether the supervisor had known we were short of staff.
I told her the original schedule and my shift note documented the shortage.
Her attorney asked whether those documents had been available to the family during its complaint process.
I said they had disappeared before I could obtain copies.
Erin unfolded the paper.
It was a copy of a letter the center had sent her family after the injury.
The letter claimed that two trained assistants had been assigned to the transfer and that I had declined their help.
I stared at the sentence until the words blurred.
I had never seen that letter before.
Daniel watched my face and asked whether the statement was false.
I said it was false.
Erin leaned back and covered her mouth.
She told me her father had spent months believing the person who cared for him had chosen to ignore the staff waiting nearby.
I asked how he was recovering.
She said he had regained some movement but still feared being transferred between chairs.
I asked whether he wanted to hear from me.
Erin said he wanted to hear the truth, but he was not ready for an apology that required him to make me feel better.
I told her I would not ask him to do that.
Before leaving, Daniel said the family intended to request the original staffing records through its attorney.
He said they had come expecting a fight with me.
I answered that the truth might require us to question more than one person.
Erin folded the letter again and placed it in her bag.
She did not shake my hand.
I respected her for leaving the meeting without pretending the damage had been repaired.
