“Mrs. Davis? Are you okay? Dr. Chen, her rate is…”
“I know,” Malcolm said. He was already standing up. He put his hand on my shoulder. “Adrienne. Breathe with me. In for four. Out for four. That’s it. That’s it.”
I breathed. In for four. Out for four. Kayla adjusted something on my IV. The beeping slowed.
When I could talk again, I looked at Malcolm.
“How did you get this?” I asked. “This letter.”
“It came to our records department this morning,” he said. “Because it asked one of our physicians to perform a capacity evaluation on you after surgery, it got flagged to our risk management office. Our general counsel called me an hour ago.”
“Did you do it? The evaluation?”
“No,” he said firmly. “Nobody evaluates you without your consent. Nobody releases your records without your authorization. That’s the law, and that’s my rule.” He paused. “But you’re the patient. And you have a right to know what’s being asked about you. So I came to tell you myself.”
