Authors: Larry D. Thompson
Two weeks later Luke and Samantha were back in Dr. Hartman’s office. He checked her over and shook his head as he did so. “Samantha, we’ll draw some more blood. Sorry I have to be a vampire. Then I’ll call your dad in a couple of days.”
“Next time I come back I’m going to bring you a set of those fake vampire teeth. If you’re going to act like one, you might as well look like one,” Samantha joked.
Two days later Luke was at his desk when he got the call from Dr. Hartman. “Luke, this a good time to talk?”
“Any time is a good time for you, Clyde.”
“She’s not any better, Luke. In fact, her liver function tests and enzymes are climbing. Sorry to tell you, Luke, but that’s not what we were hoping for.”
Luke rubbed his eyes as he replied. “Actually, Clyde, I knew you were going to say that. I’ve gotten to know my daughter pretty well and haven’t seen any improvement. What do you suggest?”
Clyde ran his hand through his hair as he replied. “I’ve been thinking about that. One of my good friends from medical school is a hepatologist in San Antonio, a professor at the University of Texas Health Science Center there. I’ve got a call in to him. I should hear back this afternoon or in the morning. He’d normally want to see her himself, but he knows that he won’t find anything more on a physical exam than I would, and I’ve already e-mailed him Samantha’s lab work.”
“Thanks, Clyde. I’ll be here. Otherwise, you’ve got my cell.”
Luke stared at the phone and then gazed out the window for five minutes before he got to his feet and walked toward the back. He stopped in the downstairs kitchen and took two beers from the refrigerator before going out back to find Whizmo in his shop. Whizmo was measuring a top for a coffee table when Luke handed him a bottle.
Whizmo nodded his thanks, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and gulped half the beer. “So, how’s Sam?”
“Just talked to Clyde. Not any better. In fact, she’s worse.”
“What’s he recommend?”
“He’s calling a specialist in San Antonio and will get back to me tomorrow. Whiz, I’m thinking about suing that Indian doctor.”
Whizmo walked out to sit on the steps. “Have a seat. I saved one step for you. Exactly what do you expect to accomplish by suing Dr. Challa? That’s not going to make Sam well.”
“You’re right. It won’t, but I need some answers. Maybe I’ll only find out what drug she took. Maybe there’s an antidote. It may all be a waste of time. Something tells me I’ve got to do something. If I fail, at least I tried.”
“How’s your stomach going to react to all of this?”
“That’s the amazing thing. Ever since Sam and I quit having problems, I quit having the stomach cramps. As to this lawsuit, it shouldn’t be very complicated. I handled a lot of medical cases back in Houston. I’m just suing one doctor, looking for information. I might get a little money out of him for Sam, depending on what I find. Judging from the looks of his office, he wouldn’t be able to pay a big judgment. On the other hand, he may have a little malpractice insurance. I can probably get my hands on that. Still, if I get the name of the drug, we’ll see where it goes from there.”
Whizmo downed his beer and belched. “Sounds okay to me. Let me know how I can help. And you better talk to your client upstairs. Make sure she’s okay with it.”
Luke nodded and returned to his house. When he got upstairs he found Samantha sitting in the breakfast nook, watching two squirrels chasing each other in the oak trees.
“Hey, Sam. Glad to see you’re up. You feeling any better?”
Samantha turned to look at her dad, who tried to hide his dismay at seeing the yellow in her eyes. “Maybe just a little. At least I’m trying to convince myself that I am. I’m pretending that I’m a squirrel, running along an oak limb and flying through the air to land on the limb of another tree. That must be a great feeling. Not exactly a bird, but kinda like it.”
Luke sat beside her and joined her in watching the squirrels. “I’ve got something to talk about.”
“I know. I heard you talking to Dr. Hartman. My blood work still sucks, doesn’t it?”
Luke nodded his head. “That’s as good a word as any. He’s talking to a friend of his in San Antonio to see what we do next.”
Samantha nodded and returned to watching the squirrels.
“Sam, I want to sue Dr. Challa. You have any problem with that?”
Never turning away from the squirrels, she shrugged her shoulders. “Okay with me. Why?”
“Shorthand summary, Sam, is I’m looking for answers. All I’ve got is questions right now. I may find some and I may not. Think of it as a baseball game. If I go to the plate and take a swing, I may hit a home run or I may strike out. If I don’t at least step up to the plate, we’ll never know what will happen. I’ve got to sue in your name, but otherwise you probably won’t have to be involved. He’s a local doctor. I’ll file suit in our courthouse right up the street. Shouldn’t interfere in anything that Clyde and his friend decide to do to get you well.”
“Go for it, Dad.” Samantha managed a wan smile. “Only if you’re going back to being a trial lawyer, swing for the fences.”
Luke leaned over and hugged his daughter. “Don’t worry, Sam. I intend to hit it out of the park.”
“Hey, are you guys talking baseball up there?” a voice called from downstairs.
“Brad, come on up,” Luke hollered.
“Dad, I don’t have any makeup on,” Samantha objected.
“Too late now,” Brad said as he rounded the top of the stairs. “Besides, I love you with or without makeup. Makeup hides those cute little freckles on your nose.”
Brad bent over to give her a peck on the lips before he sat down. Luke got up to excuse himself. “Brad, you know there are Cokes in the fridge. I’m going downstairs to finish a project.”
After Luke was gone Brad asked, “How’re you doing, baby?”
Tears welled up in Samantha’s eyes. Brad handed her a napkin from the table. As she wiped her eyes, she said, “I’m sorry, hon, only I’m scared.”
Brad scooted his chair around beside Samantha, put his arm around her, and pulled her toward him. Samantha laid her head on his chest and started crying quietly.
Brad didn’t know what to say. All he could think of was to give her encouragement. “Hey, look, I knew a guy that got hepatitis when I was in high school. He was out of classes for a few weeks and then was fine. That’s probably what’s going to happen with you.”
Samantha pushed away and looked at him. “You think so?”
“I’m not the doctor, but I’ll bet it is. Besides, I’m here for you whatever happens.”
Samantha put her arms around Brad’s neck and hugged him. “Thanks. Just having you here makes me feel better.”
Luke was sitting at his desk when Brad stuck his head in the door. “I’m heading out, Luke. I’ll be by a couple of times a day if that’s okay.”
“Sure,” Luke said, nodding. “You’ll need to be Sam’s personal spirit coach.”
After Brad had gone, the phone rang. “Luke, Clyde here. I’ve talked to my friend in San Antonio. He wants to put Sam on alpha interferon. It’s a subcutaneous injection. It’s usually used for hepatitis B, but he is willing to give it a try with Sam’s drug-induced hepatitis. He wants to try her on it for twenty-four weeks with an injection once a week. I’ve arranged for a home health nurse to come by every week to give her the shot. Tell Sam I’m sorry to have to put her through this. Let’s hope it works.”
Luke thanked Clyde and turned to his computer to begin drafting a petition in the case of
Samantha Vaughan v. Vijay Challa, M.D.
It was something that he had done so many times in his prior life as a trial lawyer that he could do it from memory. As he was running a spell check before he printed the document, the doorbell rang.
A gray-haired, heavyset woman carrying a small black bag stood on the porch. “Mr. Vaughan, I’m Mary Sanchez. Dr. Hartman has arranged for me to come by here once a week to administer your daughter’s medication. Is now okay?”
“Good for me. Come in. I’ll check on Samantha. Have a seat here in the foyer and I’ll be back down in a minute.”
Luke woke Samantha and explained what was about to happen.
“Dad, you mean I have to be stuck in the butt every week for twenty-four weeks? No way. Tell her to come back next year, or maybe in two years.”
“Sam, come on,” Luke pleaded.
“All right,” Samantha said as she resigned herself to her fate. “Let’s get it over.”
The deputy stopped in front of Dr. Challa’s office and knocked on the door. When there was no answer, he walked over to the liquor store. Dr. Challa, minus white coat, was behind the counter. “Afternoon, Deputy.”
“You’re Dr. Challa, aren’t you?”
He handed Dr. Challa an official-looking document and turned to leave the store.
“Wait, Deputy. Why are you giving me this? I haven’t done anything wrong.”
The deputy turned and looked over his shoulder. “Doctor, I just serve the papers. You can read on there what you have to do.”
Dr. Challa sat on the stool behind the counter and read the petition. The instructions from the summons attached to it said he had twenty days to file an answer. He knew that doctors got sued. He was told when he came to the United States that it was just a part of the practice of medicine. Still, it was his first time, and he was alarmed to see a claim of damages over a million dollars. He considered just packing his things and moving back to India. Instead, he locked the liquor store and went next door to his office, where he rummaged through cabinets until he found his file on Ceventa. When he got to an instruction sheet, he dialed the number of Rudy Kowalski.
“Mr. Kowalski, this is Dr. Challa. I’m calling from San Marcos, Texas. I was one of your clinical investigators in the Exxacia study.”
“What can I do for you, Doctor? Wait, first of all, let me tell you we appreciate your help. Thanks to good physicians like you, Exxacia is now on the market and saving lives.” He omitted that Ceventa was already making millions on sales of the antibiotic.
“Sir, it may be saving lives, but I’ve just been sued by one of my patients, a young woman named Samantha Vaughan who was in the study. She claims she’s got hepatitis from the drug. Your company needs to represent me. She’s claiming a million dollars in damages.”
“Dr. Challa, maybe you didn’t read the contract you signed. You agreed that Ceventa would have no liability to any of your patients. As a matter of fact, according to the contract, if we get sued, you can be asked to indemnify us.”
Dr. Challa rarely raised his voice. This was an exception. “How can that be?” he shouted. “It’s your drug! I just followed the instructions.”
“Sorry, Doc. Not a thing we can do. Maybe next time you better read the fine print.”
Rudy Kowalski knew what he was required to do. According to the FDA, any adverse event was to be reported to the agency, where such events and their frequency could be monitored. Dr. Kingsbury had countermanded that mandate, issuing an edict that nothing would be reported to the FDA on Exxacia until he decided it would. Instead, Rudy went to his computer and clicked to a screen titled “Exxacia adverse events.” He recorded the information reported by Dr. Challa. It was the forty-seventh report of a liver problem, and the drug had only been on the market a little over a month. If it was true that only about 10 percent of adverse events were ever reported to the drug company, they were about to have a gigantic problem on their hands. Kowalski knew that he could get in trouble if the FDA discovered he was holding back information, but he needed a job, and this happened to be the only one he had.
Dr. Challa slammed down the phone, cussing out Rudy Kowalski and Ceventa as he did. Next he chastised himself for deciding to make some easy money. Finally, he searched his desk until he found an insurance policy issued by Texas Preferred Doctors Insurance Company. He located the phone number to report a claim and did so. Next he faxed a copy of the petition to the claims person in Dallas, who called a lawyer in Austin that the company regularly used to represent its doctors.
Tom Lorance was a seasoned malpractice defense lawyer. He was short with a fringe of red hair and a matching complexion. His basic nature was to be polite to everyone, foe and friend alike. When the petition was faxed to him, he read through it and calendared the answer date. Then he went to the Texas Medical Board’s Web site and checked out his new client. From what he saw of Vijay Challa’s credentials, he was certainly not impressed. Last, he picked up the phone to call Dr. Challa.
“Dr. Challa, this is Tom Lorance. I’m an attorney in Austin. Preferred Doctors has asked that I represent you in this Vaughan case.”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Lorance. Thank you for calling so quickly. I’m very worried about this matter. I only have a fifty-thousand-dollar policy.”
“I’ve noted that, Doctor. You don’t need to worry. I’ll take care of you. Let me put out a couple of fires here, and I’ll drive to San Marcos to meet with you later in the week.”
“Yes, sir,” Dr. Challa agreed. “However, Mr. Lorance, you should know that there’s very little in the chart. I’ve got it here on the desk in front of me.” Dr. Challa hesitated. “Right now I can’t even find the consent form. I’m sure she signed it. It must be misfiled.”
“Hmmm, that could be a major issue, Doctor,” Lorance replied. “Please do your best to find it.”
Tom Lorance’s next call was to Luke Vaughan. “Luke, this is Tom Lorance from Austin. I’ll be defending Dr. Challa. First I want to say that I’m sorry about your daughter.”
Luke was a little surprised to get a call from a defense lawyer so soon, but also pleased. Considering Sam’s deteriorating condition, the sooner the better. “What can I do for you, Tom?”
“Mainly I’m just touching base. I’ll get an answer on file in a week or so. How’s Samantha doing?”
“Not very good.” Luke sighed. “We’ve got her on interferon, but I’m not seeing any improvement.”
“Boy, that’s too bad,” Tom said. “I’ve got a teenage daughter. Sure would hate to have her in that condition. Can I ask you a personal question, Luke, and maybe give some advice?”
“Have at it,” Luke said, somewhat puzzled at the offer.
“You sure you’re doing the right thing? I mean, we all know that it’s never a good idea to represent a family member. I could give you the names of a couple of good plaintiff lawyers who could handle Samantha’s case without letting personal involvement interfere with their decisions.”
Luke hesitated, thinking about it. “I appreciate your suggestion, Tom. I really do. I did some soul-searching about taking this on, but I think that it’s going to be pretty cut-and-dried. I’ll make the right calls. By the way, how much coverage does Dr. Challa have?”
“Not much. Fifty thousand. Well, I just wanted to call so we can get this one off on the right foot.”
“Appreciate it, Tom. By the way, I’m going to ask Judge Nimitz to put this on a fast track, and I’ll be sending out a request for production of all of the clinical trial files in Challa’s possession.”
“I don’t object to the fast track, Luke. If it were my daughter, I’d be doing the same. We may have a problem with the documents, though. I’ll look for your request as soon as I file an answer.”