Page 2 of Hellcat Barbies: Imani
As if I had a choice.
“Before we finalize this, I did have just a few more questions,” she adds.
“For just me or me and him?” I ask for clarification. With him being present, this doesn’t feel right. In fact, it feels like a fucking set up.
“With all of us,” she says.
“No. I don’t think so. If you are going to question me about his negligence, I’m not answering anything with him here. Nothing about that seems fair or sounds right,” I say as calmly as I can considering. E wants to curse all their asses out but Imani is trying to remain professional.
“It’s just some simple questions,” Karen insists.
“Simple or not, I’m not answering. Are you questioning him in front of me?”
“Of course not,” Dr. Stetson’s smug ass says.
“Then, of course not for me.” At this point, I realize that I need to be recording this shit. “I need a minute,” I utter then stand before they can resist.
“Imani,” Karen says.
“This is too much. I feel like I’m being railroaded and I don’t like that. So, before this goes left, I need to go to the restroom. Five minutes please.”
“We really need to get this settle,” Nurse Bonita finally joins the conversation.
“Let’s give her five,” Karen says and I just walk out. I rush down the small hall and locate the Women’s bathroom. Once inside, I take a deep ass breath to calm my ass down. Then, I start my voice recorder and walk back to the conference room. The moment I’m back in my seat, Karen starts back. “Are you okay now?”
“Not really but if I’m going to be forced to answer questions in front of my supervisor and the surgeon that actually left the sponge in the patient, I guess I have to be.”
“The scrub tech counts the sponges not the surgeon. I’m too busy saving lives,” he yells. His entire face is beet red.
“Dr. Stetson, please lower your voice,” Karen advises. “Yelling is only going to aggravate the situation.”
This situation is already aggravated.
“Let’s just take a final look at what happen. Imani, during the initial instrument count, how many sponges were there?” Karen asks.
“Twelve,” I respond.
For the next twenty minutes, Karen asks me the same damn questions that was asked when the sponge was discovered in the patient during recovery and asked a-damn-gain at the start of the official investigation. My answers remain the same and at the end of the day, Dr. Stetson, left a sponge in the patient and when I did my final count, I told him I only had eleven. In his usual, bully, intimidating behavior, he berated me in the operating room and basically forced me into saying twelve even after I initially told him eleven. I told Nurse Bonita immediately after the surgery and she knows it. Unfortunately, her and the good doctor both have amnesia now and everything was my fault. They are full of shit and so is this investigation.
“What’s the verdict?” I ask, pissed off. “Because I need to know what I need to do next.”
“Need to do next?” Bonita asks.
“Yeah. Next. If I get fired for this shit when we all know that he left that sponge in the patient, I’m going to have to do something.”
“The final count is on you not me,” he argues.
“But you forced me to say eleven.”
“Unfortunately, it’s your word against mine,” he says and I want to hop across this table and slap the smugness off his face.
“We’ll see,” I say threateningly. Honestly, I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do if they fire me. I need this damn job. I just moved here and I refuse to go back to Diamond Cove.
“Let’s just calm down. Obviously, we need more time to investigate,” Karen says.
“What does that mean? His negligence ass still gets to operate and I stay on leave because that’s not fair at all. That makes it look like a decision has been made. I can’t stay quiet about that.”
“If you are on leave, you are not allowed to discuss the investigation,” Bianca warns.
