Читать книгу Bad Blood - James Baehler - Страница 5

All clinical departments of a hospital have a department chairperson who has full responsibility for the medical affairs within the department. This is a physician usually appointed by the Board of Trustees whose job description is fully detailed in the medical staff bylaws. In essence the four most important responsibilities of any department head are education, credentialing, peer review, and performance improvement. The latter is ongoing and involves physicians and all hospital employees in a collaborative effort to develop systems promoting patient safety and quality of care.

Over the years it has been recognized that most tragic occurrences in hospitals are more often than not a system failure rather than a physician’s error. This is not to say that physicians do not make errors or mistakes in judgement. They do, and it is for this reason that in all accredited hospitals, a peer review committee reviews the performance of each physician. Criteria are established for each department mandating peer review for certain untoward events. A hospital death, by rule, must be reviewed, and an intra-operative death receives particular scrutiny.

At Barrington Community Hospital Victor Wallberg’s chart was immediately placed on the death review list of the Department of Surgery. The surgical peer review committee consisted of seven members who took turns on a monthly basis reviewing the charts of surgical procedures that did not meet pre-established criteria. Each procedure was detailed in a case review form. Deaths and other unusual incidents would then be reviewed each month at a meeting of the surgical committee. Cases were either cleared or set aside for further review. Those set aside required either a written response from the surgeon or a personal appearance before the committee. In an intra-operative death a personal appearance was mandatory.

The evening after the death of Victor Wallberg, Cliff and Laurel sat in their living room discussing Cliff’s expected appearance before the review committee. Cliff was obviously tense and Laurel sought to alleviate his anxiety. “I’m sure the review committee will find you did everything possible to save Victor Wallberg’s life.”

“Ordinarily, I wouldn’t have any concerns,” Cliff said, “but I did get into a shouting match with Sanjay in the OR and the use of heparin in treating a case of DIC is not that well known. If I have to educate the members of the committee about it, I may have a problem.”

“I’m sure they’ll understand once you explain it to them,” Laurel said with certainty.

“I hope you’re right. I’ve never been reprimanded by the committee before and I would hate to have that black mark on my record now.”

“I can’t believe it would come to that,” Laurel said shaking her head with conviction.

Gloomily, Cliff said, “It could be worse. They could order me to take some remedial training and suspend my hospital privileges until I was, in effect, recertified again.”

Laurel was appalled. “Oh, Cliff! That couldn’t possibly happen!”

“It might. I don’t believe it would come to that, but remember these hearings are secret. There’s no telling what may come out of it this time.”

Cliff and Laurel mulled over the problem for some time and then decided the only sensible course was to get a good night’s sleep and deal with whatever happened as it came along. They walked down the long corridor to their bedroom, arms around one another, each endeavoring to draw strength and encouragement from the other.

**********

Marilyn Wallberg’s older brother, Richard Spehn, of Chicago, drove out to Barrington Woods to be with her and offer whatever assistance he could provide in her bereavement. He was a businessman and investor who had a number of business interests including a string of Subway sandwich franchises in and around the city. A high energy level and an astute business sense had allowed him considerable financial success at a relatively early age. A native of Chicago and a product of the Catholic school system, at age forty-five Spehn retained much of the physique of the defensive back that had earned him a year at Marquette University. There he found the college’s requirement that he actually attend classes while performing on the football field conflicted with the demands of the sandwich delivery service he established and the temporary loan business with ten percent interest per week that he personally conducted. After a number of admonitions went unheeded, Spehn was dropped from the school’s roster of accredited and enrolled students. Spehn was then free to devote his full attention to building his little business empire and soon added a coin laundry near the school and eventually opened a small take-out hamburger stand. At the age of twenty-five, he sold out his business interests in Milwaukee and returned to Chicago where he bought his first Subway sandwich shop, eventually owning eleven more. He saw business as a game and he competed in it as fiercely as he did on the handball court or the golf course. He was devoted to his family and to his only sister, Marilyn Wallberg. Spehn accompanied his sister to the Fenster Funeral Home in Barrington Woods where the funeral director expressed his sympathy for her loss and then proceeded to guide her through the process of funeral selection. In a business-like manner Marilyn said, “My husband’s desire was for cremation, so if I assume correctly that you have only one way of doing that, then we’ve not much to talk about. He will be cremated.”

“It’s not a problem,” said the funeral director. We can arrange that easily.”

With her brother offering little comment, Mrs. Wallberg and the funeral director soon came to an understanding as to how the services and the cremation were to be handled. They left the funeral parlor and returned to the Wallberg home where the two children awaited them. Both the older boy, a senior in high school, and the fourteen-year-old daughter were disconsolate at the loss of their father and fearful of what the future held for them. Victor Wallberg had been a difficult and demanding father, insisting that they excel in school and at whatever other activity they might engage in, but they knew he loved them and wanted the best for them. With tears in their eyes they hugged their mother upon her return, sitting next to her on the sofa and holding her hands.

Her brother said, “Kids, do you mind if I talk to your mother privately for a little while.” With some urging from their mother, the two children retired to their rooms.

“What is it, Richard?”

“I was wondering about your finances. I know Victor made a lot of money but now that will stop. What’s your situation?”

Marilyn said woefully, “It’s not good. Victor didn’t leave me with much. I know he had an insurance policy at work but I don’t think it amounted to much; he always said life insurance was a scam. Victor acted as if he were going to live forever; he drank and smoked and didn’t bother to take care of himself. You know how he was, he never believed that the rules other people lived by applied to him. I suppose we have enough in the bank to live on for another six months or so. I really don’t know. Victor handled all that. I doubt if I’ll even be able to stay in the house. I’ll have to go back to work but I’m sure my income won’t come close to the mortgage payments and upkeep on this house. I’d hate to move and take the kids out of school but I don’t think I have any choice”

Richard said incredulously, “He was a CEO of a good-sized company. He must have made a good salary.”

Marilyn responded, “He did, but what did he do with it? I saw enough to run the house. That was about it.”

Spehn said, “We need to look into this very carefully. If necessary, I might be able to help out. My businesses are doing pretty well and I wouldn’t want to see my sister out on the street.”

She gave a weak smile and said, “That’s good of you, Richard, but I’m sure it won’t come to that. We’ll get along somehow.”

Later that afternoon as Marilyn and Richard were preparing to go to a florist and order some flowers for the wake, the phone rang. Marilyn picked it up. “Hello.”

An unfamiliar voice said, “Is this Mrs. Wallberg?”

“Yes,”

“Mrs. Wallberg, this is Walter Orleans. I’m the attorney for Technical Dynamics.”

“Oh yes, I remember now.”

“Then you know I’m the executor of your husband’s will.”

“No.” She cupped the phone and motioned for her brother to pick up the other phone. “No, I didn’t know. He never told me about a will.”

“Oh…Well then we need to talk. Can you be at my office tomorrow morning at ten? I’m in the office tower at the corner of County Line Road and Route 59.”

“Yes. Sure. I’ll be there.”

“Fine, I’ll see you then.”

She slammed down the phone. “You see what I mean. Wouldn’t you think that a husband would tell his wife that he made a will?”

Spehn shook his head in rueful agreement.

“Richard, I want you to come with me. I haven’t dealt with legal or financial matters since Victor and I got married.”

“No problem, Sis.”

The next day Marilyn Wallberg, dressed in a simple black dress, and her brother arrived on time and were ushered in to Orlean’s office. Richard Spehn’s impression of Orleans was that he seemed to be working hard to give the appearance of a corporate lawyer. He was well dressed in an expensive dark blue suit and a dazzling white shirt. He wore a subdued red tie with a subtle blue stripe, very elegant. He was a medium-sized man in his early sixties with an abundance of thick silvery hair. He exuded confidence as he directed his two visitors to seats next to his mahogany desk. “Thank you for coming, Mrs. Wallberg,” he said in cultivated tones.

“This is my brother, Richard Spehn,” she replied. “He’s been holding me together during this terrible time.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Orleans said with a smile that had a hint of condescension in it. They shook hands

He turned to Marilyn. “From our phone conversation it appears that my news has come as a surprise to you.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” said Marilyn.

“Top executives sometimes have only business affairs on their minds,” said Orleans in explanation of Wallberg’s behavior. Orleans cleared his throat and said, “I have his will here.” He showed it to them. “As you can see it’s dated shortly after your husband assumed control of Technical Dynamics. The will was witnessed by my secretary and our office manager and names me as the executor. The gist of the will is that everything he has is left to you, Mrs. Wallberg, in trust for your two teen-aged children, your daughter who should be fourteen now and your son who should be about seventeen.”

“That’s right.”

“At the time the will was drawn up the only asset of real value was your home and the good news is that when the mortgage was obtained, life insurance was part of the package so that means your home will now be debt free.”

Mrs. Wallberg clapped her hands together as a smile replaced the dour expression on her face. “Oh,” she exclaimed. That is good news.”

“There’s more Mrs. Wallberg.”

“What more?” she said in anticipation.

“The company will continue to pay you the salary your husband earned for another three months. That will provide you with one hundred and twenty thousand dollars minus withholding, social security and so on”

Her eyebrows lifted. “I didn’t expect they would do that. That’s generous.”

“Another bit of good news is that your husband had fifty thousand dollars worth of company life insurance.”

“That will help.”

“The bad news is that the stock options set aside for your husband automatically expired upon his unfortunate demise.”

“What stock options?”

Orleans was surprised and his face showed it. A moment of hesitation and then, “Your husband did not inform you of the stock options awarded to him when he assumed his role as CEO?”

Her voice rising in anger Marilyn said, “I never heard anything about any stock options.”

Momentarily taken aback Orleans said, “I see. Well, the matter is moot now. Those options could not be exercised for two more years anyhow, but as I said, the options expired with your husband’s passing so there is no discussion required.”

Richard Spehn who had been silent until this point leaned forward, placed his hands on the desk, and interjected, “Exactly how much were those options worth, Mr. Orleans?”

“I believe their value would have been around nine million dollars.”

In an insistent voice Spehn said, “Mr. Orleans, would it be possible for you to appeal to the Board of Directors of TCI to restore the options immediately?”

“I will tell them that you have made that request, but frankly I’m not optimistic.”

“Well, please do that. My sister is grateful for the generosity of the company, but after the three months of salary stops, it’s doubtful she will be able to stay in her own home even though the mortgage has been paid. She has two children heading for college and she could return to work but her income would obviously be nowhere near what her husband provided for the family. I envision real financial difficulties for her should she not have immediate access to the stock options.”

Marilyn Wallberg shook her head in frustration. “I can’t believe this. He never said one word to me about stock options.”

“I’ll see what I can do about the options,” Orleans said. “Is there anything I can do to help you with the funeral?”

“No thank you,” Marilyn Wallberg replied. “My husband is to be cremated.”

Orleans, with a questioning look reached for the will and thumbed through it. “I think you should read this clause,” he said handing her the will and indicating a paragraph. “I guess you wouldn’t have known, but the will expressly forbids cremation and requests that he is to be buried next to his parents in Forest Glen cemetery in Maywood. I remember him telling me about their tragic deaths in an automobile accident four years ago.”

With eyes closed and her forehead wrinkled tightly, Marilyn said, “Oh no. That’s not what he told me. He always spoke of cremation. That’s what he wanted…cremation.”

Orleans calmly said, “But, Mrs. Wallberg, unless you have a written, signed and witnessed amendment to this will, his burial wishes will have to be carried out.”

“The only amendment I have is what he said.”

“As I said, it must be in writing and made a part of the will.”

Marilyn Wallberg rose from her chair in agitation. “Damn it! He never told me anything about anything. He had to die before I could find out what was in his mind.”

Orleans chose to view this outburst as the reaction of a bereaved wife excusable during periods of stress. “I’m sorry Mrs. Wallberg, there’s nothing I can do.”

“I know. I know. I just…I’m sorry. I just don’t know what I’m going to do.”

Her brother reached over to pat her shoulder. In a resigned voice, Marilyn said to Orleans, “Thank you. I do appreciate your kindness.”

Marilyn and her brother left the attorney’s office and drove to the funeral parlor to make arrangements to have Victor Wallberg buried in accordance with the instructions in his will. Richard consoled his sister with the knowledge that her financial situation was not as dire as she had supposed and with three months of salary to be paid, she had at least that much time to consider her options.