Predictably, the Doc made a strong effort at big-dogging me (since I couldn't find a definition to link to, to "big dog" someone is to attempt to intimidate or push that person around via confidence, size, and/or experience).
As I laid out before, there are certain topics the Doc cannot go into. The main one is the incident that caused the injury. His first real question was: "In 25 words or less, can you tell me what happened?" I made my polite interruption: "Excuse me Doctor, if I may, I believe that was covered in the medical records provided to you by defense counsel." Which, it must be said, is a fairly nice way of saying "you can't fucking ask about that." Doc did not take too kindly to my interruption. He laid the chart down and, mind you we're in a very cramped room, took a full step toward me. It was the kind of body language that would have got a guy glassed if I was a violent man and it was a drinking-in-a-bar situation. In an excited tone, he told me "those records weren't made available to me!" Thinking back, I should have immediately doubted that claim as there was a rubber-banded inch-deep stack of paper sitting underneath the client's chart. Maybe those docs weren't the client's medical records, and maybe I'm a Chinese jet pilot. In any event, he asked pretty much the same question again and I didn't interrupt and the client came through like a champ (my pre-exam briefing didn't hurt I'm sure): "I got hurt. At work. You can't ask me that." Boom. Roasted. Way to go client. The Doctor's oh-so-sensitive retort: "I can ask you that. Counsel can instruct you not to answer, but I can ask it. This is America." Way to go Doctor -- hell of a nice thing to say to our Mexican immigrant client.
Thirty seconds later, the Doctor touches on the second no-no area: "Tell me everything you can remember about your medical history." I interrupt again, and again, the Doc gets real bent out of shape and lectures me about how a medical history as been part of a medical exam going all the way back to Hippocrates, though I'm pretty sure he pull a Bill-and-Ted's-Excellent-Adventure and pronounced it like Hippo-crates. I asked him to verify that the medical records hadn't been provided by defense counsel: "Well, they sent them, but I didn't read them. I didn't want anything poisoning my mind before I made it up for myself." Oh, alright. I get it. The insurance company is only paying you $1,000 bucks to write this exam, which included reading the medical records, but you thought the words of your colleagues would 'poison' you. Good to know that even you doubt ability to remain neutral.
The rest of the exam went on without much tension or interruptions on my part. Perhaps the first two interruptions in the first minute were enough to keep the Doctor from straying off the path again. Perhaps there wasn't anywhere else on the path to stray off.
When I got back to the office, I listened to the tape-recording -- gut-wrenching. I sound way less confident on the tape than I did in my head. That needs to change pronto. I was right, the Doctor was wrong, and I need to carry myself as such when I walk into those rooms. But other than the fact that I sound timid, I'd say the event went pretty well.
I may be making my first court appearance on Tuesday, stay tuned.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
First Out-in-the-World Lawyer Job
I have my first lawyer task. Tomorrow morning I'll be driving down to Daly City to attend a client's Independent Medical Evaluation. Basically, if your claim involves a physical injury, the defense has the right to submit you to an evaluation by their physician.
Despite the title, the IME Doctor is in no way independent. He is there at the behest of the insurance company. They pick and pay for the IME physician. And his job is to try and trip up the client, or to otherwise provide the insurance company with a seemingly reasonable medical opinion that justifies denying benefits or reducing the eventual settlement amount. The IME does not exist to help the patient in any way. While the Doctor's hippocratic oath prevents him from psychically harming the patient, it certainly doesn't require him to protect the patient's legal interests.
While it would probably be unfair to say that an IME is incapable of neutrality, the reality is that it's insurance company dollars that are keeping the lights on for these folks. So it goes, there's every financial incentive to approach the evaluation through the prism of presumed fraud on the part of the patient.
My job is straight-forward: make sure the Doctor doesn't tread into areas he shouldn't. The defense has a right to a "physical examination." This doesn't include asking the client about the circumstances surrounding the incident. This doesn't include asking the client about any prior injuries either. He gets to ask about the condition of the ankle. That's it. If this strikes you as odd, don't worry, the defense has had plenty of chances to ask all the other questions, including our client's deposition.
The best-case scenario is the Doc sticks to asking the client only about how his ankle is doing, reducing my job to just sitting there and looking pretty. The worst-case scenario is the Doc attempts to abuse the fact that I'm greener than a Berkeley tree-sitter -- including asking impermissible questions or big-dogging me with his years of experience. We'll see how well that goes down.
The name of the game here is Us v. Them. On one side: me, a tape recorder, and our client. On the other side: an M.D. with years of experience and the collective moral support of the entire insurance industry. That's only a slight overstatement.
Despite the title, the IME Doctor is in no way independent. He is there at the behest of the insurance company. They pick and pay for the IME physician. And his job is to try and trip up the client, or to otherwise provide the insurance company with a seemingly reasonable medical opinion that justifies denying benefits or reducing the eventual settlement amount. The IME does not exist to help the patient in any way. While the Doctor's hippocratic oath prevents him from psychically harming the patient, it certainly doesn't require him to protect the patient's legal interests.
While it would probably be unfair to say that an IME is incapable of neutrality, the reality is that it's insurance company dollars that are keeping the lights on for these folks. So it goes, there's every financial incentive to approach the evaluation through the prism of presumed fraud on the part of the patient.
My job is straight-forward: make sure the Doctor doesn't tread into areas he shouldn't. The defense has a right to a "physical examination." This doesn't include asking the client about the circumstances surrounding the incident. This doesn't include asking the client about any prior injuries either. He gets to ask about the condition of the ankle. That's it. If this strikes you as odd, don't worry, the defense has had plenty of chances to ask all the other questions, including our client's deposition.
The best-case scenario is the Doc sticks to asking the client only about how his ankle is doing, reducing my job to just sitting there and looking pretty. The worst-case scenario is the Doc attempts to abuse the fact that I'm greener than a Berkeley tree-sitter -- including asking impermissible questions or big-dogging me with his years of experience. We'll see how well that goes down.
The name of the game here is Us v. Them. On one side: me, a tape recorder, and our client. On the other side: an M.D. with years of experience and the collective moral support of the entire insurance industry. That's only a slight overstatement.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Paying Rent & Full Windsors Oh My!
I spent almost an hour tonight going over how to tie the most pro looking knot of them all: the Windsor. It's the one that screams, "you best recognize ma' steez or I will seriously go apeshit on your brain."
And the reason I chose tonight to finally figure out how to do a windsor knot is because I again have a reason to be wearing ties: my office has decided to keep me on for at least another 6 months.
They don't have room/need for another full-time attorney right now, so they are keeping me on as a half-lawyer, half-jack-of-all-trades assistant.
The Pros:
- Not begging on the streets for next month's rent money
- Salary bump
- Get to do real lawyer-work alongside some awesome mentors
- Still get to still do some nuts-and-bolts assistant work that teaches me all the admin-side stuff, otherwise known as the shit that not enough attorneys know themselves, thereby making the existence of, and reliance upon, assistants absolutely necessary
The Cons:
- Not a full-time lawyer job still
- No guarantees after 6 months
It's not an ideal situation, but it is so much closer to ideal than the alternative of being out on my ass that it feels silly to even list a "cons" list. 'm incredibly happy to have this opportunity. And the reality is that I'm one of the lucky few from my graduating class that has a paying job in law, so to be anything other than grateful at this point in the market is pissing in the wind, especially if your piss is 100% dumbassness. I had to suppress my idiotic smile for the past 2 days at work so as to not seem surprised at their offer.
Here's to not sleeping on the street.
And the reason I chose tonight to finally figure out how to do a windsor knot is because I again have a reason to be wearing ties: my office has decided to keep me on for at least another 6 months.
They don't have room/need for another full-time attorney right now, so they are keeping me on as a half-lawyer, half-jack-of-all-trades assistant.
The Pros:
- Not begging on the streets for next month's rent money
- Salary bump
- Get to do real lawyer-work alongside some awesome mentors
- Still get to still do some nuts-and-bolts assistant work that teaches me all the admin-side stuff, otherwise known as the shit that not enough attorneys know themselves, thereby making the existence of, and reliance upon, assistants absolutely necessary
The Cons:
- Not a full-time lawyer job still
- No guarantees after 6 months
It's not an ideal situation, but it is so much closer to ideal than the alternative of being out on my ass that it feels silly to even list a "cons" list. 'm incredibly happy to have this opportunity. And the reality is that I'm one of the lucky few from my graduating class that has a paying job in law, so to be anything other than grateful at this point in the market is pissing in the wind, especially if your piss is 100% dumbassness. I had to suppress my idiotic smile for the past 2 days at work so as to not seem surprised at their offer.
Here's to not sleeping on the street.
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