Testifying in court is not something that most MTs will
experience in their lifetimes, at least not related to their profession. Yes, physicians, nurses, entire hospitals are
sued all the time, more than likely on a daily basis if you bing’d the topic (I
know the common practice is googling, but I’m a Bing convert and won’t go
back). It is my understanding that it is
rare for the medical transcriptionist to have to testify in legal cases. I never dreamed I would be taking the stand
in any such case, but that is exactly what happened to this very unsuspecting,
and very unprepared, young MT.
It started out a very normal day, just like any other. I do remember, though, that I had worn my
hair in 2 pony tails, had on navy slacks
and a red checkered blouse, so I really looked more like a 10-year-old on her
way to grandma’s house for a picnic in the backyard. We all have those days where you get behind
on the laundry, don’t have time to wash and style your hair, so you grab the
cleanest thing you can find that is office-presentable and throw the ties
around your hair. After all, I’m sitting
at my desk usually most of the day, and no one sees me transcribing away the
day, right?
Of all the days for this situation to come up, this so
should have not been the day! My boss
called me down to his office around mid morning. I was not concerned or feeling I was in any
kind of trouble, because he did call me once in a while for various reasons,
but nothing of major significance. I did
notice that his secretary was not at her desk, so I knocked on his door and
went in. He hands me a medical chart and
informs me I need to run down to the court house, give the record to the
attorney who would be meeting me there, and let him know that what I was
handing him was an original chart of the clinic (no copies or rough drafts or
anything along those lines). My boss
explained that normally his secretary handled this type of task, but she was
out that day with a sick child, so he felt I was the next logical choice.
At first I felt very flattered that he would entrust me to
this important task, but then I got a bit nervous. Court house? Attorney? Parking
validated? He assured me in no uncertain
terms that all I had to do was hand the lawyer this medical record and inform
him that it was an original chart of the clinic. No more, no less. I was familiar with the medical records,
since I did have access to them all the time, and the discharged records were
located in my office. I obviously would know this was an original file. I did feel pretty bad that I looked more like
Pollyanna in my picnic garb, but there was not a whole lot I could do about
that. My boss knowing what I would
really be facing was probably thrilled I looked like such an innocent young
thing!
I easily found the room I was to report to and walked over
to Mr. Attorney to hand him the chart, which he did take, but then he tells me
to sit down. I assumed it was because I
would be waiting to get the chart back to take it back with me to the
clinic. It wasn’t the chart I was waiting for—it was The Stand
in the court room. You know—that scary chair you have to sit on in front of a
crowd, with a judge, a jury, too many lawyers to count, and having to “swear to
tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth so help me God!” The defense attorney who informed me of this
said I was not to worry, it was just a formality of identifying the chart for
the court records.
Thinking back on it, really it was not as bad as it would
seem, because obviously I knew I was not in trouble with the law, but still,
when you sit in that chair, you definitely can feel like the guilty party. The
defense questions were easy enough. I had to state and spell my name, and then
I answered some questions about the chart.
What department was it from, what was in the chart, was it an original
chart.
When the attorney finished with his questions, I started to
step down. The judge bellows out (well,
at least it sounded like bellowing to me), “Mrs. Seitz, please stay seated so
the prosecutor can question you.” Prosecutor?
Oh yeah, I guess he does have the right to do that, doesn’t he? Let me tell you, that guy was great at making
me feel I was on trial! He wanted to
know how the clinic was funded. It was a United Way Agency. Where do other funds come from? How in the
world would I know that? I was obviously
honest and said I did not know. I don’t
remember all the questions I was asked, other than to again verify the contents
of the medical record, but I was ready to hear the guilty verdict before I was
allowed to leave that room.
I should explain that it was not the clinic that was being
sued. The defendant had been hurt and
was receiving therapy at the clinic, but his injury was from another
party. This part of the procedure was to
show he was getting therapy and so forth.
The defense attorney let me know I did fine, but when I went back to the
office, I really let my boss have it. I
did not care if I got fired. I had to let him know I was not happy he put me in
that position. He said he had no idea I would
be testifying, which we both knew was not true, but I could not prove it of
course. He was kind enough to let me
vent my frustrations and was very apologetic, but you will never convince me he
did not know what I was facing.
