But jurors had to sit through three weeks of trial anyway. Day after day, the sales manager, TV cameraman, homemaker and others learned about the wiring of the spine, the plumbing of the colon and the integrity of the two parties involved in the suit. The jurors, who sometimes came to court in reindeer sweatshirts and earrings resembling Christmas ornaments, were allowed to take notes and, under Colorado's recent Jury Reform Act, to ask witnesses questions through the judge once formal testimony was over.
A parade of experts placed on the stand debated whether or not Louise Simonton suffers from partial cauda equina syndrome, a collection of problems--different in each case--that can occur when the dura, the sack protecting the "horse-tail" of stringy nerves in the spine, is cut. These nerves normally float freely--like cooked angel-hair pasta--in the spinal fluid contained by the dura. But when the dura is cut or torn, the nerves can float out, become stuck together with blood, or otherwise suffer damage.
Kerr argued that Stecher had cut into Simonton's dura and that the resulting case of cauda equina syndrome caused her bladder and bowel problems. But in his closing statement, Johnson countered that a variety of unrelated factors could be to blame. "It is not possible for anyone to tell you precisely when, why and how" her condition arose, he said.
Both sides used props to dramatize their arguments. The plaintiff's attorneys used a tall beaker of crimson Jell-O to represent the 1,200ccs of blood, about 25 percent of the blood in her body, that Simonton lost during Stecher's two-hour, 21-minute operation on her lumbar spine. Johnson displayed Simonton's medical records on an overhead projector to demonstrate her inconsistent reports of symptoms and presented large color drawings of the vaginal area to show where Simonton said she had lost sensation and sexual function. He also got to show a letter that the defense had battled to get admitted, racking up $10,000 in costs in the process.
The letter was the draft of a note to the Colorado commissioner of insurance, written by Simonton on loose-leaf notebook paper in her large, loopy script. She testified that she'd written the note at Stecher's insistence so he could be paid by her insurance company for the already completed surgery; he denied it. The note listed details about Simonton's car accident and surgery that were at odds with her testimony in court.
In an attempt at damage control, Kerr explained that the letter was written by someone who was stressed and confused. Throughout the trial, he characterized his client as vulnerable and naive; at one point, he gently referred to her as a "ditz."
Kerr: "Do you sometimes say things for no good reason?"
Simonton: "Sometimes they call me a motormouth."
Kerr: "Do people say you're gullible?"
Simonton: "People tell me I believe too much, I'm too trusting."
The jurors felt that both Simonton and Stecher "stretched the truth" in their testimony and thought the doctor seemed "stuck up" before he took the stand. But in the end, "it came down to just one thing," says Donald Link, a plant engineer for US West who was elected jury foreman. "Louise was not a person who took responsibility for herself."
The jury's two alternates were impressed enough by Stecher's testimony that they both said they'd go to him if they ever needed neurosurgery.
As the judge read the long list of "not guilties," Stecher latched a big arm around each of his attorneys' shoulders and grinned broadly. Alone, Simonton quickly left the courthouse, wearing no winter coat even though an arctic front was on its way. After suffering the third trial defeat of his nineteen-year career, Kerr, too, left swiftly, driving off in an aging gold van.
Kerr has vowed to appeal, a process that could take another two years. Stecher's attorneys will be waiting.
"Some doctor in a meeting once said [that being in a malpractice case] was like being deposited in a fast-moving stream," says defense attorney Pryor. "When you end up with the process, you're miles and miles downstream, never to return again to where you were before."
Had novelist Kerr written this story, the destination would have been very different. "It's certainly nicer when you're making it up," he says, "and you can make it end better.
