Chapter 6: How to Retire Early

We reconciled over lunch, with Val promising to abuse me (sexually) before dinner.

It was time to explain to Val how I came into enough money to quit working entirely. As I said, It was good fortune for me, although terribly bad fortune for my clients.

In my early 40s, I found a monster case dumped into my lap. A hospital in California’s central San Joaquin (wha-keen) Valley primarily served farmworker families. Many of these people were working on these farms without permission from the US government to live and work inside the country. However, 42 United States Code § (section) 1395dd of the Social Security Act required this hospital to provide treatment and receive reimbursement from Medicare and MediCal (state) funds.

So far, this was all routine for any California hospital that accepted Medicare. All of these patients were reluctant to dispute or “make waves” because of their lack of legal status, even when their little children, born in the US, were American citizens (according to the Fourteenth Amendment).

I became involved when a whistleblower contacted my office with an incredible claim. Essentially, this hospital actively delayed or denied proper treatment to patients if they didn’t have private health insurance.

My staff and I uncovered many horrifying stories. Commonly, appropriate anesthesia was withheld to save money. During thoracic (chest and belly) surgeries, patients on the table were given only enough drugs to make them just drowsy and calm enough to endure being cut open and then stitched up. After these surgeries, they were sent home early with only a supply of acetaminophen (Tylenol) or ibuprofen (Advil). Similar over-the-counter drugs were issued for broken bones, burn injuries, and lacerations. Meanwhile, the government entities were being billed and paying for narcotics supposedly—but not actually—given to these patients.

Who knows where those narcotics actually ended up?

At the time that my staff and I were finishing our investigation, a large for-profit chain took over the hospital and assumed complete responsibility. When my lawsuit hit them, they tried to undo the acquisition, but it was too late. In fact, the judge simply laughed at them. Unique in my experience, a judicial ruling couched in legal jargon and a sprinkling of Latin could be boiled down to just six words:

“Too bad, so sad; you lose!”

Two months after that, I showed the new corporate owners my list of witnesses. They included a grieving mother whose son had been mangled by some farm equipment, and the minimal treatment he received was so inadequate and left him in so much pain that he took his own life two weeks after discharge. Then, there was the despairing woman who, three months after gall bladder surgery, was so sick she nearly died. She managed to get into the University of California Medical Center, where they found a festering swamp of infection surrounding a discarded piece of surgical gauze that the idiot surgeon had left inside her incision. The UC surgeon who saved her life provided an affidavit certifying that she was hours from death after the worst case of surgical malpractice he had ever seen.

I had five more examples of equal or even worse malpractice, which were easily confirmed during pre-trial discovery. That’s when the corporation threw in the towel and started negotiating a settlement. Long story short, the plaintiff families shared a $200 million settlement, their community opened a free (subsidized for ten years) urgent care clinic, and I accepted a modest (proportionally) share of the damages. It was less than the standard 30% minimum fee, but I preferred to see as much as possible go to the plaintiffs.

Even so, I had millions come in, even after compensating my staff and investigators and paying the expert witness fees. What most people don’t know about injury lawyers, like I was, is they assume all the costs of investigating and preparing the case, and only after the settlement or judgment is paid do they receive a share of the settlement. Even so, after taxes, it was still enough money to relieve me of any obligation to work anymore.

Now, my time was my own. Val just stared at me.

“That’s all so unbelievable. I guess you could find twenty more mistreated patients besides the ones you mentioned.”

“More like a hundred, and likely there were more I couldn’t find.”

“This wasn’t in the news?”

“No, they paid everyone extra to get NDAs, that is, non-disclosure agreements. Technically, I could get sued over what I just told you. But I’m not worried.”

“I guess that means if you had the space, you could take in and support a hundred homeless women like me. Right, Barry?”

“Yes, I could afford that. No, there’s not a single woman like you, Valerie. No, you’re not a homeless woman. You have a place in this home for as long as you want to stay—in the guest room or in my bed. The choice is yours to make.”

“Of course I want to stay. It’s always wise to have a lawyer on, what do they call it? A retainer?”

“Yes, Val, you have retained me. In every way.”

“Damn. When you talk like that, I get all moist. Maybe I’ll have you lick me clean this afternoon.”

“All part of the service, Princess.”

“Gah! I’m going back outside. You clean the kitchen.”

“At once!”

“Your turn, Valerie. I remember that your parents have passed on. Any other siblings or relatives?”

“Not really. My brother served in the Marines, but he was killed in Afghanistan.”

“Oh, that’s awful. So hard on your parents, I’m sure.”

“Of course. It would have been even worse if he left family behind, but he was single then, no wife, no kids. I think my parents were disappointed that my brother and I didn’t give them any grandchildren.”

“But, Valerie, are you capable of being a mother?”

“Not anymore; I’ve been through early menopause. And I never had enough money to even consider getting pregnant. Doug was not capable of being a father; I mean, he was too drunk and became chronically unemployed.”

“I guess I’m asking, how do you feel about it now?”

“Motherhood? I guess part of me regrets not having any children, but I’m also relieved that I wasn’t caring for a kid when I was so poor. What about you? I’m sure you still have potent little swimmers to offer.”

“Valerie, I’m not sure how I should put this...”

“Oh, come on, just spit it out. I want to hear it.”

“I know we just met, but you are the first woman I’ve ever known that, well...”

I suddenly choked up. What I was about to say was so unexpected, so inappropriate. I barely knew this woman, and I was about to say I would want to have children with her. Fortunately, she bailed me out.