Jessica Matthews by A Mother's Special Care

Author:A Mother's Special Care [HMED-112, MMED-1126] (v0.9) (epub)
Language: eng
Format: epub

The appearance of certain people spelled trouble, and Ruth Merriweather, St Anne's Risk Manager, fit in that category. Mac recognized that she was only doing her job in dealing with incidents of substandard care, but it would be nice if she'd occasionally share good news instead of bad.

He sipped his cup of coffee and scrawled his signature on the appropriate page in the chart before him. "What can I do for you today, Ruth?''

The fifty-year-old manager was five foot nothing and could barely see over the chest-high counter. As difficult as her job was on most days, she always wore a pleasant smile. "Can we talk?"

Mac leaned back in his chair. "What's on your mind?"

"I'd prefer it if we spoke privately."

That wasn't a good sign. "OK." He went to the glassed-in conference room at the center of the nurses' station where shift reports primarily took place. With the door closed, no one could hear their discussion, but if anyone needed him, they could see where he was. "What's up?"

Ruth opened her file and pulled out a familiar form. "I've gotten another incident report."

"On Brad Westmann?"

"How did you guess?'' She was being facetious and they both knew it.

"What's he done now? Another charting error?"

"According to the report, he failed to adequately administer enough muscle relaxant to a patient who was undergoing a cystoscopy. Apparently, the patient reacted quite violently and the urologist now has to repair, his bladder."

Mac winced. Although the kind of situation she'd described happened, anesthetists tried to avoid it at all costs. Surgeons didn't like their patients moving, especially not while they were inserting tubes or using sharp instruments.

"I'll talk to him."

"I've also received a report of an incident where he administered a drug containing sulfite to a patient with a known allergy."

Mac gritted his teeth. Sulfite was a common preservative added to a large number of drugs, and for the rare patient who was allergic to this chemical, alternatives had to be found.

"Fortunately, in this case, the patient only suffered a mild reaction. I don't need to tell you that we might not be so lucky next time."

"No, you don't."

"We've established quite a file on him. I realize that nurse-anesthetists are few and far between, and you haven't filled your last vacancy, but I'm afraid he's becoming a liability rather than an asset to the hospital."

"I'll deal with it."

"Good. Because, honestly, our attorneys get nervous when we see this sort of trend."

So do I. "I understand." The practice of anesthesia wasn't without risks, but minimizing them was the anesthetist's prime concern. Slipshod work couldn't be tolerated in this malpractice-happy climate. As much as he hated to do it, the time had come for more drastic measures than counseling and additional training sessions to solve the problem.

Making a mental note to meet with Brad as soon as they both had a free moment, Mac headed in the direction of his first patient.

"Good morning, Mr Collicott," he said to his eighty-year-old patient, who was scheduled for prostate surgery. "I'm here to talk to you about your anesthesia.

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