Good Medicine - Medical School III - Cover

Good Medicine - Medical School III

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Chapter 88: Considerations and Conclusions

March 7, 1988, McKinley, Ohio

“Meet anyone who was ready for the Funny Farm today?” Lara asked when I arrived home.

“Besides you, Clarissa, and me?” I replied.

“That should go without saying!”

“Four consults in twenty-four hours, no admissions. Being stupid isn’t sufficient for a psych hold!”

“You’d need a ward the size of Three Rivers Stadium if it were!”

“No kidding! And you’re in Reds country, so Riverfront Stadium is a better comparison!”

“Then the Igloo! You’re a Penguins fan!”

“But hockey arenas don’t seat 50,000 fans! Anyway, how was Rachel’s day?”

“Fine. She was actually a bit fussy this morning, but after her nap she was fine. She’s in her swing right now, because I was making dinner. It’s ready, so if you go change, we can eat right away.”

I stopped to kiss Rachel’s forehead, then went upstairs and changed out of my dressy clothes into sweatpants and a rugby shirt. I went downstairs to the kitchen, where Lara had Rachel in her high chair. I sat down, said the blessing, and then we began to eat.

“She did better with her applesauce today,” Lara said. “And she gummed a few Cheerios to death. She just slobbers on the bagel.”

“I see you put a few Cheerios on the tray of the high chair.”

“She’s not all that interested in them, but she does try to eat them. She still prefers her bottle.”

“That’s good.”

“Things seem to be going well between you and Sara,” Lara observed.

“They are. I had a long talk with Clarissa at lunch today, and I honestly have no clue at the moment what to do. I do have to have a discussion with Becka about finances, because if she’s going to be in school for four years, that presents some potential childcare challenges, not to mention figuring out the logistics if she’s in law school in Cincinnati, Dayton, or Columbus.”

“Your finances are fine otherwise, right?”

“Yes. The challenge, and I’m calling it that because it’s not a problem, is how to make it work with a wife who isn’t a full-time mom. Obviously, a dual income for a doctor and a lawyer would solve all those problems, but that’s four years away.”

“For you, like me, the practical has to override the heart, or whatever you want to call it. I take it she checks all the other boxes?”

“She does, but then again, so do Dani and Sara, and both of them would be stay-at-home moms with daycare available to cover if family can’t when necessary. Obviously, Elizaveta’s family will be involved, but that becomes a bit trickier when I have more kids. Not a problem, mind you, just ensuring the kids are treated as similarly as possible, consistent with their unique personalities.

“The other consideration with Becka is that we wouldn’t have our first child together for four or five years, depending on timing, and that would create a larger gap between the kids than I’d prefer. Again, not a problem, just a consideration. Dani would want to start immediately after we married, and Sara any time after September.

“As for timing, and I do not mean this in any way other than acknowledging reality, August 15th would seem to be a pretty solid deadline given you have your student teaching. I’m sure I could manage for a short time, but without what amounts to a no-cost nanny, it’s not sustainable.”

“What do you know about Becka’s family?”

“Just the broad outlines. That’s another part of the discussion for Friday. Maybe there’s a solution of which I’m not aware.”

“Out of curiosity, how much relationship experience does she have? Or any of them, for that matter?”

“Becka probably has the most, as she dated in High School and at Xavier, but never got serious with anyone. Sara would be second, having some very casual dates. Dani has never dated.”

“Hang on! You’re implying Becka...

“Received, in her words, a birthday deflowering.”

Lara laughed, “That’s just unreal! She picked YOU up?”

“She and her friends made a pact when they went to Xavier that they’d all be good students, avoid getting up to the usual hijinks of college students, and celebrate their twenty-first birthdays by losing their virginities. Becka was the last of the four.”

Three, given Sammy’s situation, but that wasn’t relevant, nor could I share that information.

“Did you know that before?”

“She told me before we began, but after we left the club. I confirmed she really wanted to do it and that she didn’t feel obligated. It was her idea, actually, as a challenge to one of the four, who turned it around saying she would if they all did. They all agreed. Becka had heard me sing at Milton Lake on the Fourth, and chose to come to the club for her birthday knowing Code Blue would be playing. She did have a backup lined up in one of the girl’s older brothers, though he wasn’t aware, so doesn’t know he missed out.”

“You don’t put any particular value on that, though.”

“The only value is the one the girl assigns,” I replied. “That was something I discovered at Taft, and it was a valuable lesson. Your virginity was yours to do with as you wanted, and as I’ve said, I’d marry a girl who wasn’t a virgin because not to do so would be hypocritical in the extreme. To be clear, a guy who insists on marrying a virgin had better be a virgin himself.”

“You won’t get an argument from me! May I say it will be amusing to hear your opinions in about thirteen years?”

“You may!” I chuckled. “Because I’ll amuse myself!”

“That’s actually a point of distinction you might not have considered,” Lara observed. “If I understand correctly, Becka and Sara have no specific personal objection to pre-marital sex, while Dani most certainly does.”

I nodded, “In that way, Dani is much like Elizaveta, which is a source of concern, as I’m not sure, at least at the moment, if the attraction is her qualities, or if she’d be, in effect, a drop-in replacement or interchangeable part. What makes it more complicated is that even if that’s the case, it might not be a bad thing, so long as I love her for herself.”

“Normally, I’d say that was dangerous, but I know you well enough that it’s the traits that you find attractive. Elizaveta was the perfect wife for you, and matching that perfection, if you could, is not a bad thing.”

“You have permission to speak freely. Are you arguing for Dani?”

“I suppose I am, though I think the distinctions between her and Sara are actually minimal. Dani is ethnic and traditional; Sara is American and modern. But both of them are solidly Orthodox. I know Sara attends every service and I’m going to guess Dani does as well.”

“Correct. And for completeness, Becka keeps her Sunday obligation, but that’s it. That said, she responded well to services yesterday, and hasn’t expressed a concern about how rigorous I am.”

“I’m curious, but are you going for any pre-marital counseling?”

“No. I might have a bit of a fight with Father Nicholas over that, but it’s not mandatory, even if strongly encouraged. That said, I would probably agree to meet with Father Luke at the Cathedral if Dani wanted to.”

“Does Father Nicholas have to receive Becka? In other words, could he throw a roadblock?”

“In theory, but remember, per the canons, only one of the two being married has to be Orthodox, though the other has to be a baptized Christian and a Trinitarian. There are Orthodox marriages between Roman Catholics and Orthodox all the time, especially in the Greek Archdiocese.”

“OK. I wasn’t sure what the rules were. So it sounds as if they can’t stop it.”

“I could, if push came to shove, have a secular ceremony, then a crowning service, but I don’t think it would come to that and I’d really prefer not to do that. I have ecclesiastical permission to marry, which was granted in the document releasing me from the diaconate, so in the end, it can’t be stopped unless Vladyka JOHN retracts his permission and that’s not going to happen.”

“DA!” Rachel exclaimed to get my attention, and I noticed the Cheerios were gone.

“I believe she wants more cereal,” I said.

Lara nodded, got up, went to the counter, and returned with five Cheerios, which she put on the tray in front of Rachel.

“What’s the plan, then?” Lara asked.

“Finish dinner, play with Rachel, say evening prayers, play with you!”

“Good plan, but I meant with the girls!”

“I’m seeing Dani on Thursday for dinner with my family, Becka on Friday, and Sara on Saturday. All I can do is keep going and see where things lead. Wednesday might not go too well, because Oksana will be here, and I expect to get an earful about Becka, and Oksana might be as upset as Serafima.”

“I think you have to break that off,” Lara said. “Well, either that or ask her, which I don’t think you want to do and I’d advise against.”

“I agree. I thought about canceling, but I believe I owe her the opportunity to voice her feelings.”

“Better to have any scene contained here than in the church building or parking lot.”

“Absolutely.”

“And your interior life? How is that faring?”

“Somewhat better. I’m still struggling to make sense of last August, but I don’t feel I ever will. I have this weird feeling I can’t quite place. I mean about church, not about Elizaveta or Rachel. I’m hoping that seeing Father Roman after Pascha will help.”

“What’s causing the feeling?”

“Questions that are, ultimately, unanswerable. Well, this side of theosis, anyway. I suppose the best way to put it is that my interior life is the Book of Job, with various aspects of my soul, psyche, heart, and body playing the various roles. If only my «nous» could see clearly, I might be able to figure it out. The problem, of course, is that in this life, we see through the glass darkly.”

“As much as I don’t go in for monasticism, I think Father Roman is the source of the solution for your inner turmoil.”

I nodded, “His goal, so far, is to help me achieve inner peace, but it’s a serious struggle.”

“Just don’t get depressed about it, Mike.”

“I won’t. And if I do start feeling that way, I promise to tell you and Clarissa.”

“Good!”

We finished eating, cleaned up, played with Rachel, said our evening prayers, and once Rachel was tucked into her crib, Lara and I played for a few hours before falling asleep entwined in each other’s arms.

March 9, 1988, McKinley, Ohio

On Wednesday evening, after a routine twenty-four-hour shift, I picked up Rachel from my in-laws and headed home where Oksana had dinner waiting for me, Lara having come by to let her in. I could tell Oksana was upset, but she didn’t say anything, so after I greeted her and put Rachel in her high chair, I went upstairs to change, then joined them for dinner. We chatted lightly during dinner, but Oksana carefully avoided bringing up anything to do with our relationship, and I followed her lead.

After dinner, we did the dishes, then went to the great room where Oksana and I sat on the couch with Rachel on the floor with her toys.

“I’m not happy, Mike,” Oksana said quietly.

“I gathered,” I replied.

“Why do you keep bringing non-Orthodox girls to church? You know how much I like you, and I know you’ve seen Sara and Dani, and they like you, too.”

“In a way, it’s similar to what happened with Kari,” I replied. “I met Becka, and we hit it off well enough that I asked her on a date, and she was interested in coming to church with me. She’s from McKinley but goes to college in Cincinnati.”

“But why?”

“Because I haven’t made any decisions and I’m not foreclosing any options. You know my timeframe is months, not days.”

“Did you not like what we did?” Oksana asked quietly.

“I did like it,” I replied.

“Is it because I don’t want to make love again before we marry?”

“No.”

“Because I didn’t want to kiss you after you...”

The completely truthful answer was ‘yes’ that her approach to sex was part of it, but that would sound crass, would hurt her, and wouldn’t actually convey my reservations.

“No, it’s not that.”

“Are you sure? Because I could...”

It finally dawned on me why I felt the way I did about Oksana, and fool that I was at times, I’d missed it before she’d made her request to make love. She was, in so many ways, like April Nash, minus the ‘never set foot in an Orthodox Church’ attitude.

“I think the best way to say it, and I feel it’s best to be direct, is that I don’t feel we’re as compatible as I think we need to be to marry.”

“But why?” she asked, tears forming in her eyes.

“Honestly, it’s because I think you need more attention than I’ll be able to give for the next eight years, and I think that would lead to both of us being very unhappy. You have needs I can’t fulfill.”

I could have added that I had needs I didn’t think she could fulfill, but I wanted to take full responsibility for my own behavior and choices, and not make it seem as if I was blaming her.

“That’s not your fault,” I continued. “It’s just who you are. I’d be what amounted to an absentee husband for a good part of the next nine years, and I think you’d be miserable. I think if you set aside your feelings for me, for just a moment, you’d see that, too.”

“But how can I set them aside?!” she said, a tear rolling down her cheek.

“Perhaps look past them is a better way to put it; look deeper into who you are and what you want, and judge if I can actually fulfill your needs.”

She was quiet for a moment as tears streamed down her cheeks. I contemplated how putting my arm around her would be received and decided it was the correct thing to do. I scooted a bit closer and put my arm around Oksana’s shoulders. and she quickly scrambled into my lap and curled up, her head resting on my shoulder. I wrapped my arms around her and held her tightly as she sobbed softly.

“I’ll do whatever makes you happy, Mike,” she said through her soft sobs.

“I know you would,” I soothed, “but you have to be happy, too. And I don’t think you would be. You’d have to sleep alone many nights, and I’d potentially miss holidays and birthday celebrations, not to mention church. I think, if you’re honest with yourself, you’ll see that it’s not what you need.”

Oksana was quiet, and her lack of protest gave me a strong impression that I’d hit the nail on the head. She had, in my mind, been blinded to the realities of the next nine years by her infatuation which had started when I’d first arrived at Saint Michael the Archangel, and hopes and dreams which had been dashed by Elizaveta scooping me up, as Oksana had called it. Then, when tragedy had struck, an opportunity which should never have arisen presented itself, and Oksana’s latent infatuation and her desire pushed her towards me, though without properly counting the cost, as Sara and Dani had done.

I was glad that Rachel would be awake basically until it was time for Oksana to leave, which precluded any attempt on Oksana’s part to try to induce me to take her to bed. I’d refuse, but it was better if the opportunity never presented itself. The fact that she lived at home helped as well, as she couldn’t try to spend the night without creating all sorts of problems for herself.

We cuddled until Rachel demanded attention, and, when it came time to say evening prayers, Oksana chose to leave, which was as clear a sign as any that our relationship was over.

March 10, 1988, McKinley, Ohio

On Thursday morning, Rachel and I headed to Taft for band practice. In addition to the new songs we were learning and practicing with Kari, Milena joined us at the end so we could practice our duet.

“I have an idea, if you two are game,” Kim said. “What if I play the song on my keyboard, set in piano mode, and you two sing to each other with hand mics, face to face?”

“I’m game,” I said. “If Milena is.”

“Looking for the chemistry?” Milena asked Kim.

“The same stuff you guys show at your house, but without you being distracted by your piano.”

“You really want to get those High School boys laid,” José chuckled.

“You can’t have ALL the fun!” Kim replied. “Where are your groupies?”

“Working or in class,” he grinned. “Zero out of five available! And speaking of groupies, I want to play Piel Canela at the Taft concert. I could play at the first break while Mike plays his balalaika during the second break.”

“I’ll put it on the list,” Kim said.

“After party at your house, Milena?” I asked.

“Yes, as always!”

When practice finished, Rachel and I had gone grocery shopping, and after we arrived home, she went down for a late nap. While she was sleeping, the phone rang.

“Loucks Residence; Mike speaking.”

“Mike, it’s Samantha.”

“Hi,” I said. “I thought you went by Sammy.”

“Only with our group of four girls. Jo and Becka like their shortened names; Leslie and I prefer our longer ones. It’s a group thing, so maybe like your friend calling you by your Russian name.”

“How are you doing?”

“Confused,” she admitted. “You wouldn’t have some time to get together and talk, would you?”

“My schedule is pretty full, but if you can be in McKinley on Sunday, we could get together after church. I can leave Rachel with my in-laws for the afternoon and we can meet someplace to talk, or you’re welcome to come here if you’d prefer.”

“I don’t think I could talk about it anyplace where we could be overheard.”

“Then if you can be at my house around 2:00pm, we’ll have plenty of time to talk before I have to eat dinner and go to the hospital for my shift.”

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