Dealing With The Doctor

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.