DOCTORS HAVE THIS THING about being subpoenaed: they let you know, with every syllable of every word,that no moment of this testimony will make up for the fact that while they were sitting on the witness standunder duress, patients were waiting, people were dying. Frankly, it pisses me off. And before I know it, Ican’t help myself, I am asking for a bathroom break, leaning down to retie my shoe, gathering my thoughtsand stuffing sentences with pregnant pauses—whatever it takes to keep them cooling their heels just a fewseconds more.

Dr. Chance is no exception to the rule. From the onset he’s anxious to leave. He checks his watch so oftenyou’d think he was about to miss a train. The difference this time around is that Sara Fitzgerald is just asanxious to get him out of the courtroom. Because the patient who is waiting, the person who is dying, isKate.

But beside me, Anna’s body throws heat. I get up, continue my questioning. Slowly. “Dr. Chance, were anyof the treatments that involved donations from Anna’s body ‘sure things’?”

“Nothing in cancer is a sure thing, Mr. Alexander.”

“Was that explained to the Fitzgeralds?”

“We carefully explain the risks of every procedure, because once you begin treatments, you compromiseother bodily systems. What we wind up doing for one treatment successfully may come back to haunt you thenext time around.” He smiles at Sara. “That said, Kate’s an incredible young woman. She wasn’t expected tolive past age five, and here she is at sixteen.”

“Thanks to her sister,” I point out.

Dr. Chance nods. “Not many patients have both the strength of body and the good fortune to have a perfectlymatched donor available to them.”

I stand up, my hands in my pockets. “Can you tell the Court how the Fitzgeralds came to consult ProvidenceHospital’s preimplantation genetic diagnosis team to conceive Anna?”

“After their son was tested and found to be an unsuitable donor for Kate, I told the Fitzgeralds about anotherfamily I’d worked with. They’d tested all the patient’s siblings, and none qualified, but then the mother gotpregnant during the course of treatment and that child happened to be a perfect match.”

“Did you tell the Fitzgeralds to conceive a genetically programmed child to serve as a donor for Kate?”

“Absolutely not,” Chance says, affronted. “I just explained that even if none of the existing children was amatch, that didn’t mean that a future child might not be.”

“Did you explain to the Fitzgeralds that this child, as a perfectly genetically programmed match, would haveto be available for all these treatments for Kate throughout her life?”

“We were talking about a single cord blood treatment at the time,” Dr. Chance says. “Subsequent donationscame about because Kate didn’t respond to the first one. And because they offered more promising results.”

“So if tomorrow scientists were to come up with a procedure that would cure Kate’s cancer if Anna only cutoff her head and gave it to her sister, would you recommend that?”

“Obviously not. I would never recommend a treatment that risked another child’s life.”

“Isn’t that what you’ve done for the past thirteen years?”

His face tightens. “None of the treatments have caused significant long-term harm to Anna.”

I take a piece of paper out of my briefcase and hand it to the judge, and then to Dr. Chance. “Can you readthe part that’s marked?”

He puts on a pair of glasses and clears his throat. “I understand that anesthesia involves potential risks. Theserisks may include, but are not limited to: adverse drug reactions, sore throat, injury to teeth and dental work,damage to vocal cords, respiratory problems, minor pain and discomfort, loss of sensation, headaches,infection, allergic reaction, awareness during general anesthesia, jaundice, bleeding, nerve injury, blood clot,heart attack, brain damage, and even loss of bodily function or of life.”

“Are you familiar with this form, Doctor?”

“Yes. It’s a standard consent form for a surgical procedure.”

“Can you tell us who the patient receiving it was?”

“Anna Fitzgerald.”

“And who signed the consent form?”

“Sara Fitzgerald.”

I rock back on my heels. “Dr. Chance, anesthesia carries a risk of life impairment or death. Those are prettystrong long-term effects.”

“That’s exactly why we have a consent form. It’s to protect us from people like you,” he says. “Butrealistically, the risk is extremely small. And the procedure of donating marrow is fairly simple.”

“Why was Anna being anesthetized for such a simple procedure?”

“It’s less traumatic for a child, and they’re less likely to squirm around.”

“And after the procedure, did Anna experience any pain?”

“Maybe a little,” Dr. Chance says.

“You don’t remember?”

“It’s been a long time. I’m sure even Anna’s forgotten about it by now.”

“You think?” I turn to Anna. “Should we ask her?”

Judge DeSalvo crosses his arms.

“Speaking of risk,” I continue smoothly. “Can you tell us about the research that’s been done on the long-term effects of the growth factor shots she’s taken twice now, prior to harvest for transplant?”

“Theoretically, there shouldn’t be any long-term sequelae.”

“Theoretically,” I repeat. “Why theoretically?”

“Because the research has been done on lab animals,” Dr. Chance admits. “Effects on humans are still beingtracked.”

“How comforting.”

He shrugs. “Physicians don’t tend to prescribe drugs that have the potential to wreak havoc.”

“Have you ever heard of thalidomide, Doctor?” I ask.

“Of course. In fact, recently, it’s been resurrected for cancer research.”

“And it was a milestone drug once before,” I point out. “With catastrophic effects. Speaking of which&hell............