Said by every lawyer with a sketch client the day before having to identify your expert witness. You have this legal obligation to represent your client in good faith, so you spin that law degree into an archeological site digging through trenches of journals for a name. In a really good med mal case you get the dude that did Elvis’ autopsy as your witness. In most cases I got, you get the Oompah Loompa narcissist that definitely charges $300 an hour for document review and that maybe printed his medical certificate at Kinko’s but has a decent resume of serving as a witness because you are far, so very far, from being the first man standing in this predicament. Your client will bitch about having a bad expert, and with every grain of your soul you will refrain from stating the obvious: that had they just behaved, no one would need an expert. Bad results don’t mean malpractice, so in those cases both sides get good witnesses. Not in this case. Not even close. Convincing patients in your care that they have a mental disorder because their parents abused them at the behest of the village people living inside personality number 12 while hypnotized and on a cadre of scripts that would kill a mule is your case. They’ll balk again in a year when the case settles. Because when you’re dealing with crazy on both sides of the table, you either end up on court tv or settling; and there’s no way the lottery ticket pool of modern-day jurors is gonna hit you for less than you can get a mediator the plaintiff to take on this one.