From the OR to Prison

On my birthday, my mother-in-law had just been wheeled out of surgery, only to be sent straight back into the ER.

In a video newly posted by an intern, he was shown holding a scalpel and cutting my mother-in-law open, while the lead surgeon, who was my wife, was nowhere in sight.

“Who says interns aren’t qualified to operate? No worries. My Dr. Lover dotes on me.”

Colleagues flooded the comment section, saying the couple was sweet and that they were shipping them.

I forwarded the video straight to the hospital director.

Not long after, my wife called me. Her breath ragged and voice fragmented.

“So I forgot your birthday. Is that reason enough for you to go to the director and accuse me of violating hospital rules?

“I’m so done with your unreasonable behavior! Even if my mother sides with you this time, I’m still getting a divorce…”

She hung up before I could respond.

What she didn’t know was that her mother wouldn’t be taking my side anymore.

Because the patient who went into massive postoperative hemorrhage and died during resuscitation, under the lead of an intern, was her mother.

The doctor held the body release form and urged me to sign.

“We did everything we could. Sign here, and you can take the body.”

The body had already been wheeled out of the emergency room, yet the doctor said nothing about the unauthorized change in the lead surgeon and only pressed me for my signature.

I let out a sarcastic laugh.

“I refuse to sign. I’m requesting a medical malpractice investigation.”

The doctor gave an awkward smile and had no choice but to agree.

“The department director said the cause of death was postoperative complications. The surgery itself had no issues.”

I insisted on the medical malpractice investigation, and the doctor had no choice but to agree.

In the work group chat, intern Matthew Zink tagged me.

“Dr. Grant, I’m so sorry. I accidentally typed ‘Dr. Lover’ instead of ‘Dr. Lowe’, which caused your misunderstanding.”

Other colleagues immediately chimed in with comforting words for him.

“It’s just a typo. No big deal.”

“If the doctor mentoring me treats me as well as the director treats Matthew, and allows me to gain early experience and entry to the OR, I’d brag about it too.”

“The director and Matthew have a normal mentor-mentee relationship. Why would Dr. Grant have to assume the worst?”

These very people were the ones I cleaned up their mess every time they caused trouble in the department.

Yet the moment they sensed that my wife, Dr. Tawnie Lowe, favored the intern Matthew Zink, they tore me down and sang his praises.

Even now, knowing full well Matthew had violated regulations by entering the operating room, they still spoke against their conscience.

I sneered and replied, “Whether it was a typo or not, you know better than anyone.”

The moment I sent it, I was blocked.

The group chat admin was none other than my wife.

I closed my eyes as bitterness flooded my chest.

Out of the hospital I walked, to prepare the paperwork for a medical malpractice investigation.

The circulating nurse from this surgery hurried over to me.

“Dr. Grant. Something’s gone wrong with the patient Dr. Lowe had assigned Matthew to!”

I looked at her calmly. “And?”

She avoided my gaze, her voice lowered.

“There may have been a problem with the surgery. The family is requesting a malpractice investigation.

“Dr. Lowe hopes you’ll take responsibility for this.”

For a moment, I thought I’d misheard.

Tawnie was the one who had recklessly let Matthew perform the surgery.

Now that there was a medical mishap, she didn’t want herself or Matthew to be held accountable, so she wanted me to be the scapegoat.

For Matthew, she abandoned not only her duty as a doctor, but also me, her husband, without hesitation.

What was truly ridiculous was that she still had no idea who the deceased patient was.

I was utterly disheartened.

“I will not agree! If she dared to do it, then she should dare to face the consequences!”

I walked past the nurse and left.

Soon after, Tawnie video-called me, screaming furiously.

“How can you compare yourself to me? I’m the department director. You’re just an ordinary doctor. Losing your job is no big deal!

“Charles, have some conscience! Matthew just started his career. You can’t ruin his promising future just because you’re selfish!”

…

Was I really heartless?

The hospital had originally planned to make me the department director, but I gave away the promotion to her.

After we got married, I treated her with complete devotion, yet in her eyes, I was still someone heartless.

The disappointment in my eyes made her realize she’d misspoke. She softened her body language and apologized.