The Disability Industrial Complex – Roman meets Brad

The date of the hearing came, and Dr. Rosedale arrived at the conference room early, so he could set up a knee arthritis model, a chart showing injury trajectories, and colorful posters of knee anatomy. Dennis came, and they shared some strategies. The judge arrived, helped himself to the coffee urn, and stayed out of the way by engaging in small talk with a receptionist. Brandy arrived, serving as a witness for the county, and sat herself in a corner with her notes. The only other was a court reporter who set up her equipment across from where the judge would sit.

The clock struck 1 PM and everyone was in their place except for the claimant Ms. Skruge, and her attorney, Ronald Roman. Ten minutes passed, then fifteen. Brandy lifted her cell phone to call Roman’s office. Right then, the door swung opened revealing Ms. Skruge, gripping her ski poles, her face contorted in pain. An arm adorned with a Rolex watch held the door as she trudged into the room. The wearer of the watch towered behind his grumpy client, and when he came into view Brad noticed his tailored grey silk suit punctuated by a burgundy tie and gold tie clip. Gold rings glinted on his hands, and at least one was mounted with a shiny diamond.

“Glad to see everyone is ready!” said attorney Roman. No apology or excuse was offered for being tardy. “Please make way for my client, she has been having a really rough time ever since that terrible accident.” His voice was resonant and commanding.

Ms. Skruge found a chair across the table from Brad, who looked at Lamb, who appeared to have detached. Roman sat next to Ms. Skruge and flashed a malevolent grin at Dr. Rosedale. Brad looked into his eyes and felt a strange gut reaction, one that he couldn’t identify, one that suddenly made him uneasy.

The judge swore the witness in, and they began with Lamb’s direct examination. They had rehearsed the high points over the phone. Now Lamb took his expert witness through all of the evidence. He ended with several eloquent arguments against the accident as a cause of the woman’s disability: the obesity, the pre-existing arthritis, the ER record that was limited to scrapes and bruises, and even the use of ski poles which were not something someone would use for knee arthritis but indicated she was just dramatizing. He focused on his teaching materials and the judge, just like Lamb had advised. Yet, the evil and mocking stares of Roman and his client kept popping into his peripheral vision and got on his nerves.

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. They must have been surprised too.

Ronald Roman narrowed his eyes at the doctor who had become his hated adversary. “I am going to provide evidence that the 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 left the room reverberating.

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 then 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, he is 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 big year, how could he know? It was over 20 years since he had gone through his bankruptcy and depression. It had all resolved with a happy ending.

“Isn’t it true that doctors diagnosed you 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 from 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 take Mr. Roman to the California State Bar myself. 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 looked at him as though she would give him a hug.

“Which one? I don’t 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 or refuting everything. The judge decided to allow the witness, but damage had been done. The doctor was not the stellar expert attorney Lamb and his assistant thought.

Failing to discredit the witness, the real cross-examination got underway.