The answer was almost none.
Preston and Colette had visited Mom three times during those four months.
One visit lasted less than an hour because Preston had dinner reservations.
Another ended after Colette and Mom argued about selling the Warwick house.
The third happened when Mom was asleep through most of the afternoon.
Harold had dates.
He had calendars.
He had the messages Colette herself had sent me explaining why they could not come more often.
Preston finally said, “I don’t recall the exact number.”
“I do,” Harold replied.
“Three.”
Their attorney objected, but the judge allowed Harold to continue.
“During any of those three visits, did you perform a cognitive assessment?”
“No.”
“Ask Ms.
Holloway about hallucinations?”
“No.”
“Test her memory?”
“No.”
“Review her medical records?”
“Not formally.”
“Prescribe treatment?”
“No.”
“Refer her to an independent specialist?”
“No.”
Harold paused.
“So your sworn opinion that she cannot control her own money is based primarily on what?”
Preston’s face had gone from pale to flushed.
“Patterns of behavior reported to me.”
“Reported by whom?”
I knew the answer before he gave it.
“My wife.”
Colette closed her eyes.
There it was.
My sister had described me to her husband.
Her husband, a doctor, had converted those descriptions into medical-sounding language.
Then they had brought that language into court and asked a judge to use it against me.
Harold returned to our table.
Only then did he point toward the folder I had opened.
Inside were copies of the statements Preston and Colette had submitted when they first sought an emergency restriction on the trust.
Preston’s statement was careful.
It never explicitly claimed I had been his patient.
It described “concerning psychological symptoms,” “impaired judgment,” and “possible instability.” To a frightened reader, it sounded like a diagnosis.
But Harold had noticed what was missing.
No examination date.
No clinical chart.
No test.
No treatment plan.
No patient consent.
Nothing connecting the authority of the white coat to an actual doctor-patient relationship.
Their argument had depended on nobody asking the simplest question in the room.
When did you examine her?
Judge Fitzwilliam looked toward Preston’s attorney.
“Was the court informed when this application was filed that Dr.
Keen had never examined Ms.
Holloway?”
