Unfortunately, most hospitals don’t track mortality on a monthly basis per unit or ward or ICU, so they may not recognize when something is out of line in a timely manner. Also, the hospital committee assigned to review deaths may be remiss in its duty to meet regularly or otherwise perform according to policy.
Another factor that should raise a red flag is a disproportionate number of codes or deaths on the same shift—most often the night shift. Often, someone says, “Gee, it seems like there’s an awful lot of codes lately,” explains Dr. Kizer. An unusually high rate of successful codes is another sign.
For example, in the 1995-1996 case of Kristen Gilbert, an RN convicted of four murders at the Veterans Affairs Medical Center in Northampton, Mass., she was having an extramarital affair with a hospital security guard who worked the evening shift. Protocol required that security be called to all cardiopulmonary arrests. Gilbert used stimulant epinephrine to make their hearts race out of control. The epidemiologic data later showed that suspicious codes occurred when both were on duty. “The patients always seemed to recover and she was the hero,” says Dr. Kizer. “She wanted to look good for her boyfriend.”
Similarly, Richard Angelo, a charge nurse at Good Samaritan Hospital in West Islip, Long Island, N.Y., admitted that between 1987 and 1989 he injected patients with paralyzing drugs Pavulon (pancuronium) and Anectine (succinylcholine). He wanted his colleagues to admire him for performing well in a code. During his confession, he likened himself to volunteer firefighters who set fires. In fact, Dr. Iserson makes this same parallel. “From what we can tell,” he says, “these people don’t really care whether the person dies or not. They would rather they not [die], so they can be seen as the hero. It’s all about them.” As with instances of arson, he says, the perpetrator is “the first one to show up at the fire watch, over and over again.”
Obstacles to Disclosure
Even when healthcare workers and related personnel come forward with their suspicions, law enforcement may be a barrier to prosecution.
In the United Kingdom, a Manchester mortician took her observations about the excessive deaths and cremations in Harold Shipman’s practice to her father and brother, who were also in the family business. She also obtained the support of a local female general practitioner. The two women went to the police, explaining that most patients who had died had not been critically ill and noted that the doctor had exhibited peculiar behavior when he was questioned.
But, says Dr. Iserson, the response again was typical: “‘Oh, foolish women. That can’t be happening.’ And it wasn’t until Shipman killed the wrong person [a former town mayor, mother of a prominent lawyer] that things started to unravel for him.” When police finally looked at other deaths Shipman had certified, a pattern emerged. He would overdose patients with diamorphine, sign their death certificates, then forge medical records to indicate they were in poor health.