Consumers Taking Action Series Part Two-Finding An Attorney
This essay will take a look at what occurred after my resolve to sue my former psychiatrist for improper diagnosis, treatment, and harm. Please note, I am not a mental health professional or a lawyer.
The decision to sue was firm. It was vital that I clear my name, reclaim my reputation, and stop the psychiatrist from hurting other unsuspecting patients. I gently told family members of my plans and quickly learned that they were reluctant to be supportive. Until then, I did not know that my desire to file suit had to consider the entire family’s concerns because my actions would expose their privacy. Litigation requires all parties to disclose personal information during lengthily oral depositions whereby they are questioned by defense council before a court reporter. I was asking a lot from individuals who were also in the process of healing. “Could I move forward and force them to participate?” After consideration, I moved forward leaving the final decision to file suit to be determined later. My family gained more knowledge of the maltreatment I endured and they became supportive.
My naive journey into the legal labyrinth began with a plunge. Popular American television shows fail to depict the behind the scenes decisions and deadlines a litigant faces under a great deal of stress and apprehension. The statue of limitations, the time-frame to file suit before losing your opportunity to sue, got closer every day so it was paramount to quickly secure an attorney who would set the mammoth wheels of justice in motion.
It would have been natural to ask friends and family for referrals, but suing a psychiatrist created reluctance. Where did I start? The yellow pages. The first firm called led nowhere as did the second, third and forth. Challenging the legal profession to examine the practices of the psychiatric profession, who had largely escaped legal scrutiny, was not going to be easy. Following is a brief example of what how several law firms handled my queries.
“Hi, my name is Jeanette Bartha. I’m searching for an attorney to represent me against a psychiatrist. Could your firm help me?”
“What happened?” The law clerk asked hesitantly.
“He drugged me against my will.” I began, uncertain of how to proceed. “I lost my job, apartment, he ran my insurance into the ground, then held….”
“Hold it, hold it. Your psychiatrist did what?” The woman snapped. I was nervous even though miles of phone lines stretched between us.
“He misdiagnosed me.” I continued. “Then he treated me for something I did not have and….”
“Now just how did he do that?” She interrupted again. I had no credibility; it was a mental health issue after all and it became obvious that my time to pitch my case was limited.
“He made me worse!” I blurted.
“Oh?” She responded with a pause.
Relief came when she said that Mr. so-in-so would be out of town for weeks. Mental illness. No credibility. Nutcase. “Can I continue the search that has only begun?” I wondered. I flipped through the pages of the stocky phone book and read names of hundreds of attorneys. “How can I do this?” I thought. Hopelessness was unexpectedly drenched with vivid memories of therapy. I recalled being overmedicated and feeling more like a prisoner than a patient. I remembered losing my job, apartment, and family, as psychotherapy caused my downward spiral. The fact that my former psychiatrist continued to defend his diagnosis and treatment jolted me from memory lane and reignited my resolve to right the injustice. I decided to remain focused and to ignore bumps along the way.
Interviews were booked and I soon found myself sitting in offices on plush leather chairs waiting to speak with potential attorneys. Clerks and lawyers darted about as I remember being productive and vibrant too. I bounced from firm to firm feeling more desperate after each unsuccessful interview as I worried about the statue of limitations running out. Several firms agreed to obtain and read preliminary medical records before making a decision.
One firm requested I return to their office where they politely announced that there was evidence that I indeed suffered from the aliments diagnosed by the psychiatrist. I slowly got up and squared- off before the attorneys who stood before me in $700 suits. “Wait,” I thought. “I am in charge of my fate, not them. They side with the psychiatrist, but that doesn’t make them right.” I took my medical records, turned on my heels, hopped the elevator to street level, and then fled into the bustling crowd on the streets.
The lesson? Lawsuits are not about who is right. They are not about correcting wrongs, facing conflict and uncharted territory, or punishing anyone. Money was the obvious rational to this hurdle, but the social issues went deeper. The back rooms of the American legal system not only seemed void of integrity, but unwilling, almost scared, to litigate a personal injury case that had the potential to impact the psychology industry who had largely escaped legal accountability. I remained focused on my goal while the Hippocratic Oath, do no harm, echoed through my brain.
Then one day, I received a call from an attorney who had sided with the doctor. He confessed that the firm defended doctors and it would be a conflict of interest to represent me. Surprisingly, he offered to help me find an attorney and I eagerly accepted. After weeks of searching, we interviewed a one-man firm whose office was tucked away on the top floor of an aging building. Mr. Attorney greeted us wearing faded jeans and a white T-shirt. During our lengthily discussion, I watched his jaw tighten, and the tempo of his tapping pen quicken as I painfully shared details of psychotherapy. Mr. Attorney agreed to read my records and a week later he wanted to represent me. I was fortunate to have found a lawyer with integrity who would treat me with the same dignity and respect as he would any client suing a doctor. This man had conviction and morals and was eager to stand next to me through my journey to personal and social justice. It was then that I knew honest lawyer was not an oxymoron.
Next: Learning The Law
Consumers Taking Action Series
Part Four: Finale & Conclusions
