Free Trapped by Lawrence Gold Page A

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    Chapter Twelve
     
    Lisa was disappointed again the next morning , when Bradley Rosin appeared to make rounds.
    I can’t get this right , she thought.
    “Don’t worry, Lisa, Mike said he’d try to come in this afternoon. He has an office full of follow-ups this morning.”
    Lisa continued to watch for Mike. Each time the door opened, she turned to look in anticipation.
    Stop acting like a teenager , she thought.
    Shortly after her lunch break, Lisa went to the nursing administration office to sign some employment forms. When she returned, Leona Lee, who was standing across the room, waved and mouthed, “He’s in there,” pointing toward the nurse’s lounge, and smiling.
    When she entered the room, Mike was in conversation with Eileen Baker, the head nurse of the NICU.
    Mike looked up when Lisa entered, and smiled. He motioned for her to sit beside him, and continued his conversation.
    “It’s so sad,” Eileen said.
    “I know, but what can we do?”
    Lisa sat next to Mike.
    He turned to Lisa. “I was telling Eileen about my deposition yesterday. Eileen was here when we admitted that baby.”
    “You should have seen that one, Lisa. Twenty-seven weeks , and a mere 950 grams, but she was a beautiful, perfectly formed baby girl.”
    “What happened?” Lisa asked.
    “None of us thought she’d make it,” said Mike, “but damned if she did. It was tricky for a while, but finally we sent her home.”
    “That’s great, Mike. What was the deposition about?”
    Mike turned to Eileen, and nodded.
    “After you’re here a while, Lisa,” Eileen said, “ you’ll understand that surviving the NICU for a baby so small is just the beginning. Most babies like Cindy Harkins will eventually show the wounds of coming into the world too soon.”
    “Cindy ,” Mike said, “and most babies like her, are destined to have developmental abnormalities of one kind or the other. It’s hard to feel good about your work when the outcome is a severely disabled baby.”
    “What wrong with the baby?” Lisa asked.
    Mike tightened his lips. “Cindy Harkins has severe cerebral palsy and developmental defects. She’ll never live without hands-on help. She’ll never walk or leave a wheelchair without help. She won’t be able to dress or clean herself.”
    “My God,” Lisa cried, her eyes filling. “What are we doing here if that’s the outcome?”
    Eileen looked at Mike, and shook her head. “You’ve recently finished your training in neonatal care, Lisa. You’re inexperienced, but you know that what we do in NICU makes a difference. You know the statistics about increased survival and reduction in disability, but often success comes at a price.”
    “A price?” Lisa asked.
    “They keep raising the bar on us,” Mike said. “Twenty years ago, the tiny babies we’re treating, born on the cusp of viability, had no chance; they all died. Today, they swim the rapids. Some drown, some are damaged on the rocky shores, and some make it across to a normal life. Our problem, and by that, I mean to include the medical team and the family, is that we can’t know in advance which baby will reach the safety of the distant shore, unharmed.”
    “They’re suing you because of the baby’s injuries?” Lisa asked.
    “No, they called me as an expert witness. They want to know if the doctor or the hospital in Fremont was in some way responsible for the baby’s disability. The plaintiff, the baby’s family, wants the court to find negligence and compensate the family with money—a lot of money.”
    “Their expenses must be horrendous,” Lisa said. “They’re going to need a small fortune to provide the baby with the bare essentials. By ‘they’ you mean the family, don’t you?”
    “No, I’m testifying for the neonatologist and the hospital.”
    “You’re taking their side?” Lisa asked. “I can’t believe it.”
    Mike flushed with anger, and then took a deep breath. “I know it’s compassion that leads