Tony and I began discussing what we would do with the money. Should we donate it to kids with cancer? Should we fund a playroom in the new Hopkins Children's Center? We knew we wanted to do something with children and hospitals. So, while Tony spent his days at work, I sat at the computer looking for ideas about what to do with the money.

It had to be huge, nationwide—worldwide even, earth-shatteringly tremendous. As I thought of all our options, there was one question that lurked in the back of my mind and there was only one person who could answer it.

I picked up the phone and called Rick Kidwell.

He was shocked to hear my voice and proceeded to tell me that I should not be contacting him unless it was through our lawyer. I told him it was over. We had signed the papers.

He put me on hold for a minute.

I knew as I sat there waiting that he was calling Paul Bekman to make sure Mrs. King hadn't totally lost it.

When he came back to me it was as if I was talking to an entirely different person. He apologized for Josie's death. He apologized for any pain that the legal proceedings may have caused us. He told me he was sorry.

I was caught off guard by his apology and so I just asked him straight, "Josie's death was a fluke. It was as a strike of lightning. Medical errors like that don't happen very often, do they?"

He told me that people die every day from medical errors. "It's happening in hospitals everywhere. It's reported to be one of the leading causes of death in our country," he said.

I was shocked.

Josie's Story © 2009 by Sorrel King, reprinted with the permission of the publisher, Atlantic Monthly Press, an imprint of Grove/Atlantic, Inc.


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