The drive to Mercy General took me 2 hours and 38 minutes. I spent the entire time on the phone, first with Ethan to keep him calm and monitor his symptoms, then with colleagues to gather information about Dr. Leonard Vance. What I learned made my stomach turn. Vance was 46, had been an ER physician for 15 years, and had multiple complaints filed against him by patients who claimed he’d dismissed their symptoms and provided inadequate care. Nothing had stuck because the hospital administration kept settling complaints quietly, and the medical board had never pursued formal investigation.
He had a reputation among nurses as being dismissive, arrogant, and quick to label patients as drug seekers without proper assessment. One of my colleagues, Dr. I Simmons, who’d worked with Vance years ago, told me bluntly. Garrison, Vance is a lazy doctor who’s coasting on his credentials. He profiles patients based on appearance and makes snap judgments without doing the diagnostic work. I’ve heard he’s particularly bad with young men. Assumes they’re all addicts looking for a fix. By the time I pulled into Mercy General’s parking lot at 6:31 a.m., Ethan had been in the ER for nearly 5 hours without treatment.
5 hours with potential appendicitis. 5 hours during which his appendix could have ruptured. I walked through those ER doors with my hospital ID badge visible and my fury carefully controlled. I found Ethan in a curtained area in the corner looking pale and sweaty curled on his side on the gurnie. A nurse was checking his vitals and she looked worried. “Sir, are you family?” she asked when she saw me approach. “I’m his father, Dr. Garrison Mills, chief of surgery at St.
Catherine’s.” Her eyes widened slightly. “I’ve been concerned about him. His fever’s gone up to 102.3 and his pain level keeps increasing. I’ve asked Dr. advanced twice to reassess, but he keeps saying the patient is exhibiting drug-seeking behavior. I looked at my son. His skin had a grayish tint and he was holding his right side protectively. Classic peritineal signs. Ethan, I need you to try to straighten out for me. He tried and gasped in pain. Can’t. Hurts too much.
I did a gentle palpation of his abdomen. The moment I touched the right lower quadrant, he nearly came off the table. Rebound tenderness, guarding, fever, 5-hour history of progressive pain. This wasn’t just appendicitis. This was likely a ruptured appendix. Where’s Dr. Vance? My voice came out colder than I’d intended. The nurse hesitated. He’s with another patient. Room 4. I pulled back the curtain and walked straight to room 4. Through the open doorway, I could see a man in his mid-40s wearing scrubs and a white coat, laughing with another physician while reviewing a chart.
He had the casual arrogance of someone who’d never faced real consequences for his actions. Dr. Vance,” he turned, his expressions still amused from whatever he’d been laughing about. “Yes, are you a family member of a patient? I’m Dr. Garrison Mills, chief of surgery at St. Catherine’s Hospital. I’m also the father of Ethan Mills, the young man you’ve been refusing to treat for the past 5 hours, despite clear symptoms of acute appendicitis.” I watched his face change. The amusement vanished first, replaced by confusion, then recognition as my name and title registered.
