The Disability Industrial Complex

Finally, it was time for attorney Roman to do his cross-examination.

“Your honor, I move that the witness Dr. Rosedale be excused from this hearing, and that he be barred from ever doing expert witness work again in the great state of California.”

The judge could not hide his surprise. He lifted his elbows off the table and sat all the way back in his chair. “Really? On what basis do you make this motion, Mr. Roman?”

Defense attorney Lamb rolled his eyes and focused on an empty corner in the room. His assistant Brandy dropped her pen and bent to retrieve it.

Ronald Roman narrowed his eyes at the doctor who had become his newest adversary. “I am going to provide evidence that this so-called expert witness was biased in his attempt to perform an independent medical evaluation, that he injured my client during the examination, that he is incompetent due to mental problems, and that he has been blocked from doing IMEs in this state. I can vouch the last part myself as I personally blacklisted him with the California Disability Lawyer’s Association. None of my colleagues will touch him now.” His sonorous voice reverberated against the walls of the room.

The judge was silent, and they waited. Brad noticed Roman’s chiseled features, the hawkish nose, and the way he clenched his fists while talking and splayed his hands out on the table when he was finished. He looked into Roman’s eyes again, before the words had time to sink in. There was déjà vu, a familiar feeling that he needed to fight back, but…then reality chilled his soul. The man was a monster who was on the verge of destroying his livelihood.

“I object,” Lamb said. It was a formality; he had nothing to object to yet.

“Noted,” said the judge. “Mr. Roman, the doctor remains your witness. Do you care to cross-examine?”

“Oh yes, your honor. With pleasure. Dr. Rosedale, what were you doing in 1997?”

Brad paused and recollected. “I was working. I had taken some time off for a break and decided to stop doing surgery, so it was an office-based practice.” Brad’s mind was reeling. That was a long time ago, how could the attorney know? It was over 20 years since he had gone through the bankruptcy and depression. It had all resolved with a happy ending.

“Isn’t it true that you were diagnosed with mental illness and you were judged incompetent to practice medicine? That you abandoned your patients, botched a surgery, and had a bankruptcy because of that?” Roman then stood up, his gaunt 6 feet, 4-inch frame towering next to the table. His eyes sparkled brightly, and his neck veins bulged. He leaned forward, his fists clenched, and said, “Isn’t it true that you aggressively examined my client, causing injuries to her knees, back, and hips? She had to go to the emergency room the next day for treatment because of your examination. Isn’t it true that you told her she was fat, called her a liar, and made her cry several times during what she recalled was a torture session?” He stopped the tirade right as the judge began to interrupt and sat down.

“Mr. Roman, I see you have an axe to grind with this doctor,” the judge said. “But please settle down and give him an opportunity to reply to your questions one at a time.”

Brad couldn’t think straight.

“Doctor, you may answer Mr. Roman,” said the judge.

“I object!” said Lamb. “Counsel will have to offer some evidence to support these accusations, or I will report Mr. Roman to the California State Bar. None of this has been entered as evidence, your honor.”

“Objection noted,” said the judge. “Doctor, you may answer the questions.”

Roman sat and smirked. Patti Skruge gave him an admiring look fit for a hero.

“Which one? I don’t know where to start.” Burning inside, he suppressed a primordial urge to leap across the table and strangle Roman. The judge had the court reporter read back the questions, and Brad did an admirable job explaining them, but his answers did not matter. Although the judge allowed the witness, the psychological effect that Roman intended was successful. Damage was done. The doctor was not the stellar expert witness that attorney Lamb and his assistant thought. Now, the real cross-examination could get underway.

Roman changed tactics. Smiling warmly at Brad, his pleasant tone belied the meaning of the question. “Doctor, how can you sit here and tell the court that Ms. Skruge’s accident wasn’t disabling after at least 3 of your colleagues determined they were?”

“Those colleagues were examining her for a worker’s compensation claim, not for lifetime disability benefits. It’s a different system, with different rules and causation thresholds.” Brad hoped the judge would see the sense in his technical explanation.

“Doctor, how can you say this injury didn’t end her career when she was doing her usual job right up until her knees were traumatized, and now she can’t walk 100 yards without her walking sticks?”

“I need a break,” said Brad. He looked at the judge, then at Lamb. “Can we chat in private for a minute?”

The judge allowed it, and they went into a side room near the coffee urn. Dennis closed the door. Brad was pacing back and forth. “I tried to warn you about this asshole,” the attorney said. “I am sorry to find those things out about. It’s not a problem for me, but the board may decide not to use you again for our cases.”

“Oh, thanks for that! On top of that bastard shutting down half of my career, I guess it shouldn’t matter. But that’s not what I wanted to talk about. I’m trying to win the case here.”

“What is it?” said Lamb.

“How long has she been sitting there, with no effort to get up or change position?”

“At least an hour,” said Lamb. “What’s your point?”

“Ive got her original questionnaire with me. She marked that she can’t sit for more than ten minutes. There are other exaggerations. I would like to show it to the judge, she is lying right here at the hearing!”

“You can’t do that,” said Lamb. “The questionnaire hasn’t been introduced into evidence.”

“Can’t we make a motion to get it introduced? After all that shit that Roman pulled? It’s only fair,” Brad said.

“No. I’m not going there,” said Lamb. “I think you made your points. The judge allowed you as an expert, and I think he will consider the evidence fairly.

Right in that moment Brad saw that Lamb didn’t really care what the outcome was. He simply had to act his part, and his job was secure. Perhaps he had already assumed he would lose the case, because of his poor record against Roman.

Brad fervently hoped he would lose. But he didn’t. The decision took quite some time, and Ms. Skruge got her early disability retirement. Roman would get another big pay day, and Lamb would keep his job. The disability retirement system wouldn’t flinch. It was a multibillion-dollar establishment, and there was plenty of money to go around.

Dennis Lamb and Brad Rosedale had met for dinner the night before a previous case. After a couple of beers, the attorney had joked that industrial disability cases were like a conveyor belt full of money. You just reach out and grab the cash as it goes by. Brad received nearly $10,000 for his report and hearing testimony in the Skruge case, which confirmed that. But was it worth the risk of going up against Ronald Roman?

Brad found after that case, that referals for disability evaluations were indeed down. Nobody could explain why. His anxiety was allayed by the strength he had gained from his psychological transformation and spiritual journey, and from the loving support Elly gave. Even if they dried up completely, he could get increase patient numbers in the treatment clinic. But they continued to trickle in, and over the months started to increase. After all, as Brandy had said, his reports really were excellent.

Ronald Roman did his best to destroy his adversary, but he didn’t have god powers. At least not on Earth in human form