“I saw it with my own eyes. A refusal of the second emergency procedure. Your husband was listed as your medical proxy while you were sedated.” Diana swallowed. “I’ve replayed that night in my head a hundred times. I couldn’t keep it inside anymore.”
My hands were shaking so badly that I had to grip the bed rail.
“I saw it with my own eyes.”
“I want to scream. I want him arrested. I want him gone right now!”
“Eve, listen to me,” Diana’s voice dropped. “I’ll testify. I’ll put my name on a statement today if you want. But I’m one nurse, and he was your legal proxy. On paper, he had every right to refuse the intervention. The video shows intent, and my statement shows what I saw, but without the actual signed form in someone’s hands, a good lawyer will call it a grieving husband misremembered by a tired nurse.”
She quickly looked toward the door.
“I want to scream.”
“That paper is the only thing that ties his words to his signature. If he suspects anything, he’ll get to it before we do. Hospitals close ranks,” the nurse informed me.
I closed my eyes. Rage burned in my throat, hot and useless.
“Then I need proof.”
***
An hour later, after Ryan had gone home to change, I asked to speak with the hospital administrator. A woman in a navy blazer arrived, a folder tucked under her arm.
“Then I need proof.”
I asked to see the consent records from the night of my emergency.
The woman smiled.
“I’m afraid those files are currently under internal review, ma’am. Any time there’s an adverse outcome in the OR, the chart is pulled for quality assurance. No copies leave the department until that’s complete.”
“I’m the patient. They’re my records.”
“No copies leave the department.”
“And you’re absolutely entitled to them. A formal written request typically takes about 48 hours to process once Medical Records receives it. I can walk you through the paperwork whenever you’re ready to be discharged.”
When she left, I stared at the closed door until my vision blurred.
Diana had been right. Fury alone wouldn’t crack this open. Ryan had spent months building a fortress of paperwork and performance, and I couldn’t tear it down by throwing myself against the walls.
“You’re absolutely entitled to them.”
I looked at Caleb sleeping peacefully next to me.
