My School Nurse Told Me I Was “Faking It”… Then My Heart Stopped In The Hallway

She’d known she might have made a mistake. She’d felt doubt, and instead of calling me back to her office or alerting my teachers to watch for warning signs, she’d tried to reassure herself that she’d done the right thing.

The deposition started in August. Francis prepared me extensively, explaining how opposing counsel would try to make me seem unreliable or exaggerated in my symptoms.

“They’re going to ask if you have a history of anxiety, if you’ve ever skipped class for mental health reasons, if you’ve been diagnosed with panic disorder or depression. They want to paint you as an emotionally unstable teenager who overreacted to normal body sensations. Don’t let them rattle you. Just answer honestly and stick to the facts.” She coached.

The actual deposition was in a conference room at a law office downtown. Nurse Campbell and her lawyer on one side of a long table, me and Francis on the other.

A court reporter sat at the end, typing everything said. Nurse Campbell wouldn’t make eye contact with me.

She stared at her hands the whole time, picking at her cuticles, her face carefully neutral. Her lawyer asked me to describe my symptoms in detail: the chest tightness, the irregular heartbeat, the dizziness.

“And you believe these symptoms indicated a cardiac emergency?” He asked.

I frowned at the question’s phrasing.

“I didn’t know what they indicated. That’s why I went to the nurse. I knew something was wrong and I needed medical evaluation.” I replied.

“But you’re not a medical professional, correct? You have no training in cardiac assessment.” He continued.

I kept my voice steady, like Francis had coached me.

“No, I’m not. That’s why I sought help from someone who was supposed to have that training.” I said.

The lawyer consulted his notes.

“Nurse Campbell’s records indicate you were primarily concerned about your smartwatch readings. Would you say your anxiety about the watch was the main reason you sought medical attention?” He asked.

Francis objected before I could answer.

“Asked and answered. He’s already testified he sought attention because of physical symptoms, not anxiety about a device.” She stated.

The lawyer rephrased.

“Did you show Nurse Campbell your smartwatch data?” He asked.

I nodded.

“Yes. I thought it was relevant medical information. My watch had detected irregular heart rhythm multiple times over three days. That seemed important.” I said.

He leaned forward.

“Are you aware that consumer-grade smartwatches have a false positive rate of approximately 67% for arrhythmia detection?” He asked.

I felt my pulse quicken, my ICD sitting heavy in my chest under my shirt.

“I’m aware they’re not perfect. But mine was right. I did have a cardiac arrhythmia, a life-threatening one. If Nurse Campbell had taken my symptoms seriously and done any actual medical assessment, she would have found it.” I replied.

The lawyer’s expression didn’t change.

“So you believe that school nurses should treat every teenager who comes in with smartwatch data as having a potential cardiac emergency?” He asked.

Francis objected again.

“Argumentative. The witness hasn’t testified to any such belief.” She said.

But I wanted to answer.

“I believe school nurses should take all symptoms seriously. Nurse Campbell didn’t just dismiss my watch data; she dismissed my chest pain, my irregular heartbeat, my dizziness. She didn’t check my pulse. She didn’t listen to my heart. She didn’t do any assessment at all. She made assumptions based on my age instead of my symptoms.” I said.

The lawyer made a note.

“How would you characterize your relationship with Nurse Campbell prior to this incident?” He asked.

I thought about it.

“I didn’t have one. I’d been to her office maybe twice in four years for routine stuff. I didn’t know her personally.” I replied.

He nodded.

“So you had no reason to distrust her medical judgment.” He said.

That felt like a trap.

“I trusted her because she was the school nurse. I assumed she would help me. I was wrong.” I said.

Nurse Campbell’s deposition was scheduled for the following week. Francis played me the recording afterward since I hadn’t been allowed in the room.

Campbell’s voice came through the speaker, defensive and shaky.

“I made a clinical judgment based on the information available to me at the time. The student presented with vague anxiety complaints and showed me data from a consumer device known for high false positive rates. His vital signs when I checked them were within normal parameters. Blood pressure was perfect. He had no visible signs of distress. Based on my 18 years of experience, I concluded he was experiencing health-related anxiety, which is extremely common in adolescent populations. I made an appropriate referral to counseling services and sent him back to class. How was I supposed to know he had a rare genetic heart condition? Should I order cardiac workups for every teenager who comes in feeling stressed?” She argued.

Francis’s voice on the recording was sharp and pointed.

“Did you manually check his pulse?” She asked.

A pause.

“I checked his blood pressure.” She said.

“That’s not what I asked. Did you place your fingers on his wrist or neck and count his heartbeats?” Francis pressed.

Another pause, longer.

“No.” She admitted.

“Did you listen to his heart with a stethoscope?” Francis asked.

“No.” She said.

“Why not?” Francis asked.

Campbell’s lawyer interjected something about the question being asked and answered, but then Campbell answered anyway, her voice rising defensively.

“Because it wasn’t medically necessary. His presentation didn’t warrant cardiac assessment. He was a healthy teenage boy having an anxiety attack about his smartwatch. I see 50 kids a week. If I did a full cardiac workup on everyone who came in feeling nervous, I’d never have time for students with real medical needs.” She said.

Francis pounced.

“So you’re testifying that Kieran didn’t have a real medical need?” She asked.

Campbell realized her mistake too late.