According to a 2012 study completed at Johns Hopkins, over 250,000 people die each year from medical error. Since then, that figure has been hotly debated for many reasons. Most prominent is the question: How is medical error defined? Is it an adverse, avoidable event that leads to death? A procedure that should have been done, but wasn’t? If an adverse event occurs but the patient doesn’t die, should that count as medical error?

The good news is that for the last twenty years procedures have been put in place to track medical error (all types of them) and hold people accountable. Risk management teams spend their days ensuring patient safety is a priority within a health system. Peer review organizations, both within health systems and outside as well, meet regularly to assure clinicians maintain and improve procedures and care. Most physicians agree that you are safer now than ever before when you enter a health system.

Fictional Dr. Angela Brennan’s Medical Error Nightmare

Dr. Angela Brennan isn’t so fortunate in my contest-winning novel, Devil’s Grace. She loses her husband and son in a car accident, only to watch her daughter die after surgery in the very hospital where she is chief of Cardiac Surgery. When she begins asking questions about the medical error she believes led to her daughter’s death, Angela finds herself pitted against the very colleagues she used to call friends.

I often refer to Devil’s Grace as being “borne of Light.” I was busy writing another book when a friend, who regularly communicates with those who have passed, texted me and told me I was supposed to be writing about “the Light.” Neither of us understood exactly what that meant, but then I remembered two real-life stories my healthcare executive husband told me. I mentioned them to my friend and suggested that perhaps I could create a novel by combining the two stories. She laughed and said, “That’s it. That’s the Light.” I started writing Devil’s Grace that day.

Devil’s Grace – Not About Death

You see, Devil’s Grace is not about death and dying. Or even about medical error. Sure, it starts that way…that’s the basis, the roots of the tree, so to speak. But the real value for the reader is what grows from the roots. It’s about the relationship between those who have passed and those left behind to complete their own missions. It’s about choices each of us make in our daily lives related to morality, spirituality and personality. Angela is a scientist who uncovers irrefutable proof that she has been communicating with ghosts.

Losing Her Mind?

She believes that she’s losing her mind. But the advice offered by these spirits aids in her quest to discover why her daughter died, so she begins to accept her “new normal.” With her newly discovered ability to communicate with the beyond, the emotional walls she has so carefully constructed begin to crumble and leave her swaying with her emotional tides. Yet over time, as she begins to acclimate, she transforms into a more compassionate, patient, kind person. And, in turn, a better physician.

Devil’s Grace is, at its heart, a medical thriller/mystery wrapped in a spiritual drama. Angela could implode after losing her entire family, but instead she’s surprised to find a fortitude and patience she didn’t know she possessed. These traits allow her to forgive instead of scorn, to love instead of hate. In the end, Devil’s Grace is about the Light: kindness, forgiveness and hope, each of which are sorely lacking in today’s climate. I hope that readers can immerse themselves in the story and find their own emotional release and growth, even as Angela struggles through the transformation herself.

The universal themes outlined in Devil’s Grace make it great reading for book clubs around the world. I’m hoping the book generates discussions about medical error, the role of kindness in society, and issues surrounding balancing work and family.

About Author Splaine

Splaine grew up in Wilmington, Delaware and received her MHA from UNC Chapel Hill. She worked in healthcare administration for eleven years before turning her creative mind to writing. She entered Devil’s Grace in the When Words Count writing competition in which not only is the author’s writing judged, but her marketing plan, cover copy and the book’s cover as well. Splaine’s operatic performance background came in handy when she completed the required public reading, as she memorized the novel’s prologue and kept the audience rapt throughout the reading. When not writing, Splaine teaches voice at Rhode Island Philharmonic Music School. She lives in Rhode Island with her husband, sons and dogs. Devil’s Grace, her third novel, is published through Green Writers Press. You can reach her through her website: www.elizabethsplaineauthor.com.

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This has been the summer of final farewells. There have been four deaths of people in my world between Memorial Day and Labor Day. There were others too that impacted people around me – a death in my husband’s family and several deaths at the congregation where I worship. Two deaths were among the early morning water aerobics group with whom I’ve been splashing for almost five years now. One was a dear pastor colleague who could read the Greek translations as easily as the rest of us read the English. And – most difficult and most significant to me personally – my first husband’s mother, who was like a second mother to me. In addition to raising three fine sons, she did much to encourage and educate me in the art of mothering in my early years of raising two of her five grandchildren.

All four died after the age of eighty; two after their ninetieth birthdays. All died more or less painlessly and relatively quickly thanks to palliative care options.

So, I’ve had death on my mind recently. I’ve been reflecting on the lives of these four who have been part of the fabric of my life and now aren’t – at least not in person in this life. I’ve also been thinking about the countless deaths of strangers who were victims of hatred, brutality, terrorism, and sometimes just plain stupidity. I’ve been thinking ahead to my own death and wondering when and what that might be like.

My father’s parents started a funeral home business in Cleveland in the very early 1900’s. In my childhood I spent a week or two each summer with my widowed grandmother at the second floor apartment over the business. My father was born in that apartment. Many of my family members are buried in the community cemetery nearby. Our family name was still known as recently as a few years ago when we buried my father’s sister there.

So you’d think I’d have a handle on this whole death and dying business. I don’t. Oh, I’ve learned that the grief that often accompanies death is a cycle. I know the phases of grief, and I know they keep repeating, though with diminishing power with each passing year. I know that you can start a pretty heated conversation if you approach the topic of assisted death or how to handle end-of-life decisions.

I know some people have it all figured out down to the passages and hymns they want included in their funeral or memorial services. I know others who remain in deep denial that death is inevitable and refuse to talk about it or even write a will. My son-in-law, who works in development for a small Christian college, declares, “Dying without a will is rude.” He’s right.

Geography, schedules, and finances this summer were such that I attended two of the four funerals. I know from saying those final farewells to my grandparents and parents that showing up for a service matters a great deal to the people who have to make the arrangements.

Mostly I think we don’t do a very good job of accepting the reality of death. Our refusal to accept death as the conclusion of this life often compromises the quality our lives. We tend to fight death as though it were an enemy we might conquer if we just put forth enough effort and money. We won’t win. The death rate remains 100% among mortals.

It seems to me all we can conquer is our fear of death and our reluctance to accept death as a natural transition from what has been to what is to become. Each of the four in my life who died this summer leaves a hole in my heart. I think of them often. I give thanks that they were there. My mother-in-law has been a presence in my life for nearly all of my adult years. My Greek-proficient colleague has been there since the earliest months of my move to Texas. The other two have been part of my weekly routine since I joined the Y in the fall of 2011.

I have nothing profound to say about their deaths. It just seemed appropriate to note that they were here. They lived good, productive lives. They loved their families. They did much good for many people in the way they lived. Their presence has made a difference in my life and I know in the lives of many, many others.

Now they know what comes next. I’m free to speculate, but I won’t in this space. I merely wanted to acknowledge there were four lives that mattered to me and now those people have made the final transition from life to death.

We do well to acknowledge those transitions when they take place. They are as important as they are final.

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