Chapter 14 - The Doctor Who Never Examined Me
Dr. Simon Reddick's declaration described me as emotionally volatile, financially impulsive, and unable to evaluate risks.
It contained no clinical history, no examination date, and no evidence of a treatment relationship.
Yet it was presented in the pleading as a professional assessment.
My Navy medical team provided records through the proper release process confirming the dates of my surgery and documenting my recovery.
My attorney separately arranged an independent evaluation with a qualified clinician who actually met me.
The process was humiliating because it forced me to prove my competence in response to accusations manufactured for property litigation.
During the assessment, the doctor asked what frightened me most about the case.
“Not losing the farm,” I said.
“Losing years explaining myself to people who had no intention of listening.”
She wrote something down and asked whether I had enough support.
I thought of Nora, Mara, my shipmates, Ortiz, and even my mother in her uncertain attempts at honesty.
“Yes,” I answered.
“I have support I can choose.”
Mara subpoenaed the factual basis of Reddick's declaration through available legal process.
His lawyer responded that he had never diagnosed me and had relied on information supplied by a third-party consultant.
That consultant was Conrad Vale.
At the hearing, Judge Simmons reviewed the relevant filings and sharply questioned counsel about the missing foundation for the medical assertions.
Dad sat rigidly beside his new attorney.
The judge did not treat his allegations as established facts.
The request for extraordinary immediate restrictions was denied, and the court preserved the freeze while directing the parties to address the document issues in the appropriate proceedings.
Outside the courtroom, a reporter asked whether my father was exploiting my service injury.
I refused to litigate my medical history through a camera lens.
“I am here to protect a lawful deed and get to the truth of the documents,” I said.
“No veteran should have to turn private recovery into public entertainment.”
Dad watched from the courthouse steps.
For a second, I saw something resembling shame.
Then he looked over my shoulder and smiled.
That evening, an investigator showed Mara a newly discovered wire transfer.
Money had moved from the same disputed consulting network to a local firm handling my father's civil filings.
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The transfer's reference field read: PHASE TWO – CAPACITY.
