George Kimball On The Lewis Trial

[Way Of The Ray <wayray@ix.netcom.com>]

      Boston Herald

      Lewis' widow can't win blame game
      by George Kimball 
      Wednesday, May 5, 1999
      In a proceeding that threatens to outlast the NBA playoffs, Donna 
      Harris-Lewis' malpractice suit tipped off in Suffolk Superior Court this 
      week. Whatever the outcome of the civil action, it is virtually guaranteed 
      that the trial will produce no winners, only losers.
      By the time defense lawyers have finished having a go at Reggie Lewis' 
      legacy, the reputation of the late Celtics captain will have been as 
      tarnished as that of Dr. Gilbert (Punky) Mudge, the cardiologist his widow 
      is suing.
      Harris-Lewis claims that Mudge's faulty diagnosis and flawed treatment of 
      Reggie Lewis' heart arrhythmia directly contributed to his premature 1993 
      death at the age of 27.
      It is already clear that the core of Mudge's defense will be a contention 
      that Lewis' failure to come clean about his history of cocaine use was 
      responsible for the misdiagnosis. Previously sealed records of drug tests 
      administered during Lewis' student days have been subpoenaed, and it will 
      be a major upset if, before this trial is over, the defense does not 
      produce at least one witness claiming to have done a few lines with Reggie 
      Lewis.
      For the next several weeks, the two sides' attorneys will attempt to 
      persuade a jury of the validity of their respective positions, and it will 
      be all but lost that the two points are not mutually exclusive. The 
      possibility that Lewis at least dabbled in cocaine does not, ipso facto, 
      make Mudge less of an inept publicity hound. The converse is also true: 
      that Punky Mudge can be shown to be an idiot does not necessarily mean 
      Reggie was drug-free.
      The bare bones of the case's history have already become a staple of New 
      England lore. In April 1993, Lewis mysteriously collapsed during a game 
      against the Charlotte Hornets. The Celtics assembled a ``Dream Team'' of 
      the nation's most prominent specialists to examine Lewis at New England 
      Baptist Hospital.
      Though the ``Dream Team'' was unable to finish its work - Harris-Lewis, in 
      a huff, had her husband transferred to Brigham & Women's - it did 
      collectively arrive at the conclusion that Lewis was suffering from a 
      potentially life-threatening and almost certainly career-ending 
      arrhythmia.
      Enter Punky Mudge, who, having been summoned by Harris-Lewis for a second 
      opinion, invited every newspaper and television station he could muster 
      for a press conference at which he proclaimed that the Dream Team was full 
      of beans and that he, Mudge, had found the true answer - that Lewis had a 
      congenital neurological disorder that produced fainting spells and that he 
      could, with proper (as in, his own) treatment, lead a normal life, 
      including resumption of his basketball career.
      Less than three months later, Lewis collapsed and died while shooting 
      baskets at Brandeis. Mudge subsequently claimed that two weeks before his 
      death, Lewis confessed to having used cocaine, an admission he previously 
      denied. Reggie's failure to come clean with him from the outset, contended 
      Mudge, ultimately contributed to his death.
      ``It would be the same as if I went in with a stomachache and never told 
      my doctor I'd eaten a two-week-old meat loaf,'' said defense attorney 
      William Dailey Jr. in Monday's opening statement.
      The dynamics of the case have already produced some interesting 
      juxtapositions. Dr. Robert Miley, an internist at New England Baptist, 
      testified as a witness for the plaintiff and said he did not test Lewis 
      for cocaine because he had ``no reason not to believe'' Lewis when he 
      denied using drugs.
      But Miley was a member of the Dream Team, from whose aegis Donna 
      Harris-Lewis ordered her husband removed because she was displeased by its 
      members' persistent questions about drug use.
      Mudge's willingness to dismiss the possibility of drugs as a factor before 
      making his very public diagnosis marks him as naive at best. Not only was 
      cocaine use widespread in the NBA at the time, but there was the cloud of 
      suspicion lingering from his Northeastern days (are we to believe that the 
      gullible Mudge accepted the old story about Reggie setting his hands on 
      fire while ``making french fries,'' too?), and it loomed as the most 
      obvious medical explanation as well.
      If a patient exhibiting all the outward symptoms of pregnancy showed up at 
      Mudge's office and protested, ``That can't be! I'm a virgin!,'' would he, 
      on that basis, proceed to treat her for a stomach tumor?
      As Mudge's lawyer noted, Lewis had about 9 million good reasons for lying 
      about cocaine: the three years left on his contract could have been placed 
      in jeopardy by an admission of illegal drug use.
      Mudge doesn't have to prove that cocaine killed Lewis. In fact, given the 
      medical examiner's report, the cause of death isn't likely to change. What 
      he does have to prove is that the persistent misinformation provided by 
      Lewis was responsible for the misdiagnosis, and by the time his lawyers 
      are through, the city fathers who rushed to name Roxbury's Reggie Lewis 
      Track and Athletic Center in his memory could be as red-faced as if they 
      had called the city's marquee recreational facility the John Belushi 
      Center.
      Harris-Lewis, who maintains that the action is not about money, is 
      nonetheless suing for the $100 million or so her husband might have earned 
      had he lived. She claims that she is merely trying to preserve her 
      husband's reputation, but by its very nature, this lawsuit is virtually 
      guaranteed to have the opposite effect.