After we hung up, I called my attorney. Jeffrey Hartman and I had known each other fifteen years. He specialized in medical malpractice, and I had testified as an expert witness on several of his cases. He picked up with the clipped readiness of a man who knew I would not be calling him before nine in the morning unless something serious had happened.
“Garrison?”
“My son is in surgery for a ruptured appendix that should have been diagnosed hours ago,” I said. Then I gave him the timeline—symptoms, presentation, dismissal, lack of workup, delayed imaging, rupture, peritonitis, emergent surgery. He did not interrupt me once. I could hear him typing notes.
When I finished, he let out a slow breath. “This is clear-cut negligence. Failure to diagnose. Inadequate assessment. Delay in treatment resulting in serious harm. The profiling issue adds another layer. We can file with the medical board immediately. Depending on recovery and damages, we can also pursue a civil suit.”
“I want more than damages,” I said.
“I know you do.”
“I want his license reviewed. I want a full investigation into his practice patterns. And I want to make sure he never does this to anyone else.”