Pulse(11)

I found I didn’t much care as long as the end was quick.

We went into one of the consulting rooms in the now-closed outpatients department. There were only two chairs at a table so we all remained standing.

‘What’s this about?’ I asked.

‘Um,’ said the Medical Director uneasily, ‘we have received a complaint concerning your medical competence.’

‘From whom?’ I said, but I knew who it must have been – either the staff nurse who I’d told to administer the adenosine, or the junior doctor who’d been standing by with the defibrillator.

‘That’s not relevant at this point,’ said the woman.

I personally thought that it was very relevant but saying so wouldn’t have made the slightest difference.

I was surprisingly calm – not a tingle to be felt anywhere. I even wordlessly congratulated myself on my control in such a stressful situation.

‘We have decided,’ the woman went on, looking around briefly at the other two, ‘that it would be best if you were suspended from duty while the complaint is investigated. On full pay, of course.’

‘Suspended?’ I said. ‘But why? I used my judgement as a doctor to make a decision that I felt was in the patient’s best interests. Are you doubting my ability to make future decisions?’

There was an awkward silence.

‘We are also concerned by the state of your mental health,’ said the Medical Director.

I felt as if I’d been punched in the stomach.

I couldn’t breathe.

How did they know?

‘What about my mental health?’ I tried to sound as calm as possible.

‘We have reasons to believe that you are suffering from clinical depression.’

Putting the word clinical in front always made something sound much more serious.

‘What reasons?’ I demanded, anger rising within me. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. I have a slight anxiety problem, that’s all.’

‘Chris, please be reasonable,’ the Medical Director said. ‘Several of your colleagues have raised concerns, noting that you sometimes absent yourself from the department during your shift.’

‘A woman is surely allowed to go to the toilet.’

‘But you don’t go to the toilet, do you, Chris? You go and hide in a cupboard. Jeremy Cook saw you do that yesterday.’

He paused but I said nothing, so he went on.

‘I was concerned enough to use my legal powers to gain access to your medical records. One doesn’t have to take Prozac twice a day just for a slight anxiety problem.’

‘I thought personal medical records were meant to be confidential.’ It was almost a mumble.

‘Not when patients’ lives are at risk.’

‘Are you suggesting that my depression has something to do with the death of a patient?’ I could feel the anger rising in me again and, this time, there was a slight tingling in my fingertips.

‘No.’ It was the other man, the one who had so far remained silent. ‘We are suggesting no such thing. We are simply stating the fact that a complaint has been received and it is the hospital’s decision that you be suspended from duty while the circumstances are investigated. No one at this stage is implying that you have done anything wrong.’

Lawyer, I thought. I wasn’t particularly reassured.

‘Right, then,’ I said, almost in a daze. ‘What do I do now?’

‘You go home,’ said the Medical Director.

‘But first I would like you to sign this,’ the lawyer said quickly, removing a folded piece of paper from the inside pocket of his suit jacket and placing it on the table along with a pen. I sat down on one of the chairs and read the single paragraph printed on the hospital’s official headed notepaper:

I, Dr Christine Rankin, understand that, following a complaint made against me, I have been suspended from duty at Cheltenham General Hospital pending an investigation into my competence to practise. I undertake that, until that investigation is complete, I will not attempt to gain access to the hospital premises in the role of a clinician. I further undertake that, prior to any hearing that might take place, I will not discuss the details of the said complaint with any of my medical colleagues.

Signed.............................................. Date......................

‘What was the complaint?’ I asked. ‘I can’t undertake not to discuss something I know nothing about.’

‘That you failed to consult with colleagues and administered medication to a patient without due professional care and in a manner likely to have hastened the death of the patient.’

The Medical Director read it from another piece of official notepaper, which he now handed to me. It was the formal notification of my suspension from duty.

Someone had been busy, and on a Sunday.

I picked up the pen and signed the lawyer’s paper.

What else could I do?

I believed that the complaint was justified, that the man’s death had been my fault.

I was a bad person.

My phone rang. I looked down. It was Grant calling on his mobile.

I ignored it and, after a while, it stopped.

The time readout on the phone showed it was 04.50.

What was Grant doing up at ten to five in the morning?