the hospital did, in fact, make her even more meticulous than usual. She paid particular attention to writing up her highly strategic — some might say daring — recommendations. She planned to share her work with Harry in the morning. If, after hearing her out, he didn’t think she’d lost her mind, they would go to the hospital together to deliver her report to John Mess and Julie Bonner.
She knew she was sticking her neck out on this one. Until now she’d been the ideal protégée on every project, doing what Harry would have done had he had the time or inclination. She read him like a fortune teller reading a palm and often knew his preferences without him offering a hint of direction. That was why he’d plucked her out of the pool of associates and made it his business to groom her for partner.
But this time was different. Her recommendations were based on what she thought was right for all involved, but she knew they might incite an infamous Meinig tantrum. She was willing to chance it, though. If she could persuade Harry to her way of thinking, she had a feeling they could neutralize the “cluster fuck” and actually do some good at the same time.
* * *
Another morning without time for a swim or a run. Sarah was in the office by seven, putting the finishing touches on her report. She handed it over to Harry for his review just before eight. He muttered to himself as he read her findings about how Alejandro Avila’s initial error had not been caught — and why. The report was as much an indictment of the hospital’s staffing policies and half-baked implementation of the BCMA system as it was of Avila, Albert Cappelli and Joyce Hilker, at least one of whom, under different circumstances, might have caught the error. Leaving nothing out, Sarah slammed the pharmaceutical maker for marking such vastly different doses of heparin with a nearly identically colored label.
When Harry turned to the last page of her report — her recommendations — she held her breath. He kept reading, gesticulating with his hands, raising his eyebrows and muttering to himself. She had prepared herself for an explosion, but all Harry said when he was done was, “Are you sure about this, Sarah?”
“Yes, I am. I think this is the best way to go.”
“Well, it’s a risk. But I’ve heard about some other cases that were handled this way with good results. I’ll back you up on this, Sarah, but don’t fuck up. Do me proud.”
She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Harry trusted her risky strategy — trusted her. “I promise you, Harry. I won’t screw this up.”
* * *
Within the hour Sarah was handing out copies of her report to Julie Bonner and John Mess. They sat riveted as she described the confluence of factors that had led to the baby’s overdose. In terms of the BCMA, she was emphatic that there had been insufficient training and buy-in of the staff, from lowly pharmacy technicians to physicians. The failure to offer onsite tech support from the developer during the critical first weeks of implementation had also contributed to the dosing error. Taken together, those factors had greatly diminished the BCMA’s power to prevent medication errors. Sarah minced no words on the role played by staffing shortages. With fatigue being a well-documented cause of performance failures, having tired nurses doing back-to-back shifts was nothing short of playing with fire.
Mess and Bonner took it all in, but said nothing in response. Finally, Sarah came to her recommendations. She took a deep breath and laid them out: Admit fault to the parents; tell them everything that went wrong and why. Offer a sincere apology. Then stipulate in detail what measures the hospital would immediately take to make certain this type of error would not happen again. Finally, make a fair offer of payment for pain and suffering, and a promise to pay for any therapies or remediation the child might need as a result of the
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