“I don’t have that information in your clinical chart,” she said. “The administrative staff handles the legal paperwork during admission. Usually, a family member presents it to the clerk.”
“My sister Tessa was here when I came in,” I said. “And my mother.”
Dr. Conner looked troubled, her eyes moving from the paper back to my face. “Nora, did you not authorize this document?”
“I have never seen this document in my life,” I said. “And I certainly didn’t sign it three weeks ago.”
“If there is a dispute about your proxy, I have to notify our legal department,” Dr. Conner said, her voice dropping to a whisper. “But until we have a formal revocation, this is what the hospital must follow if your condition changes.”
“Even if it’s a lie?” I asked.
“I am a physician, Nora,” she said softly. “I have to rely on the documents in the file. But I will look into the intake logs myself tomorrow morning to see who delivered it.”
She handed the paper back to me and squeezed my shoulder gently. “Get some rest. We’ll talk more in the morning.”
