Chapter 45: The Birds and the Bees

February 11, 1987, McKinley, Ohio

“I learned yesterday that Abby changed her shifts at the hospital and the Free Clinic so that she’s not at the Clinic on Tuesdays,” Clarissa said to me on Wednesday morning. “I also discovered that she had changed her shifts in OB at the hospital to avoid Tuesdays when you were with Doctor Forsberg.”

“That seems extreme,” I observed. “Does she think I have horns and a tail?”

“Probably.”

“The Western images of Satan are not drawn from the Scriptures,” I said. “Lucifer is referred to as the most beautiful of angels, and if you look at how Satan is mostly presented, he’s more like a prosecuting attorney. In fact, he’d probably look and dress more like Tim Saddler than any of the Faustian images!”

Clarissa laughed, “Wow!”

“I call ‘em as I see ‘em!” I said with a silly grin. “But, in all seriousness, what is she thinking?”

“Don’t ask me! I haven’t spoken to her in months. Abby’s politics have become more radical according to a mutual friend. I didn’t tell you this before, but she had a complete fit about Peter being a ‘closeted asshole’ last Fall.”

“How did she know?”

“You know Peter hung out with us a few times, but he never really liked Abby, so we stopped doing that. I was afraid she was going to publicly ‘out’ him.”

“For what reason?” I asked. “I mean, I agree it’s wrong that he has to keep his sexuality hidden to avoid problems with his clinical work and Residency, but revealing something he wants to keep secret is about as low as you can get. What would it achieve? Potentially destroying his life to make a political point? That’s nuts!”

“I agree with you, Petrovich. That was one of the first portents of the end of our relationship. Well, there were others, but that was the beginning of the end. There are two basic camps amongst gays and lesbians. Peter, Tessa, and I are in the ‘go along, get along’ camp; Abby is in the radical ‘in-your-face’ camp.

“Fundamentally, and we’ve discussed this with regard to racism, sexism, and all other forms of discrimination, the right approach is education and awareness, and taking small, measured steps to change things. Sometimes things are bad enough that more radical action is necessary, but that has to be the exception, not the rule. Our generation is the one to change things, but it has to be slow and gradual, so that society comes along with us.”

“I always struggle with where that line is,” I said. “I can’t fault King and the other Civil Rights leaders who felt mass protests and civil disobedience were necessary. That said, radical, overnight change is a guarantee that society will fracture, and we may not like the results.

“Mr. Black always used to say that the beauty of the Constitution was that it required broad consensus for major changes, and I agree with him. It’s the same as with the things we see wrong with medical training. Right now, we have to follow the program to the letter, though we can point out flaws in the system. When we’re in the club, then we can make the changes and argue forcefully for them.”

“So, basically shut up and go to school?”

“Yes, though some things, like women being used as playthings, need to be called out and we need to make sure the right people hear about it and know that we support fixing that problem.”

“Nadine?”

“No comment.”

“Come on, Petrovich! She basically admitted that the guys in her study group felt it was her job to put out, just as they think it’s the job of nurses to put out.”

“I remember what she said, but I also promised not to discuss it with anyone. SHE is free to say what she wants; I am not. At least with regard to her situation. And, it’s not just guys. Nurse Ellie thinks it’s the job of every male medical student to put out!”

“And what would a Mike who was single have done when he saw her translucent undies? Hmm?”

“Mike was not single,” I replied. “So the question is irrelevant!”

Clarissa laughed, “You’d have banged her like a drum, Petrovich!”

“I’ll remind you of the many girls I turned down over the years, Lissa.”

“Fewer than you chose to deflower!”

“Not even close!”

“Shall we make a list?”

“Oh, look, we’re at the door to the school!”

Clarissa laughed, “Good one, Petrovich!”

We went inside to get our coffee, then headed to class.

February 14, 1987, McKinley, Ohio

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Kitten!” I said when we woke on Saturday morning.

It wasn’t really an Orthodox tradition, and I’d mostly ignored it until after Elizaveta and I had married, but I felt it was a good day to remind her how much I loved her.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, husband!”

I reached over and opened the drawer to get the card I’d bought for her, and she did the same. We exchanged the cards, made love, then got out of bed to shower and have breakfast.

“We got the Prom gig without a ‘Battle of the Bands’!” Kim declared when I arrived in the music room for band practice.

“Cool! It’s the Thursday before Lazarus Saturday, but that won’t be a problem. How come we don’t have to compete for it?”

“The rules allow the previous band to be hired for the next Prom, so long as there isn’t anything that disqualifies them. The Principal can overrule that, but we were really popular and several teachers have seen us perform.”

“Excellent. Are you working on Summer gigs?”

“Yes, but it’s tough because we don’t know your schedule. If we break a commitment, we’ll never get another one.”

“Let me ask Doctor Roth about it on Tuesday. I bet he knows his schedule for June, or at least can make an intelligent guess about it.”

“I’m also waiting to hear back from Goshen on their Prom. We have the inside track, and our performance at their Harvest Ball serves as our audition.”

“When is the Goshen Prom?”

“The Friday of the week after Hayes County High, which is May 1st. Fortunately, neither of them fall during your Lent, so you don’t have the potential problem of your bishop objecting.”

“And he most likely would. It would be a really tough sell, and I’m not sure it’s a conversation I’d like to have.”

“We have a couple of months to learn three new songs. I looked over the lists everyone submitted, and I think we should add Walk Like an Egyptian, I Know You’re Out There Somewhere, and Raised on Radio. The last one fits great with our other music-themed songs.”

“What was fourth on your list?”

“Somebody’s Baby. I was thinking you could sing that because I doubt your wife is going to want to perform when she’s five or six months pregnant.”

I laughed, “She’s Russian! In the olden times, Russian women would work in the fields, deliver, and go back to work! ‘Strong as tractor’!”

“I dare you to say that in front of your wife!”

“Perhaps not!” I replied mirthfully. “I have need of my gonads for a second child! I’ll check with her, but we should be able to learn all four in two months. We know the rest of our material cold.”

“José bought a harmonica and is learning to play.”

I laughed, “So we’re going the full Blues Brothers route, then!”

“It started as a dumb joke, but now it’s taken on a life of its own!”

“Then why not make Jailhouse Rock our new closing song? I’d trade Walk Like an Egyptian for that.”

“That sounds like a great idea!” Sticks said, coming into the room. “Ending with Jailhouse Rock would be perfect.”

“OK. I’ll get the music. José said he was cool with whatever I decided.”

“Then we have a plan!”

José arrived, and after Kim told him about our new songs, we began practice.

When we finished, I met Elizaveta, and we headed to Kroger for our usual Saturday shopping trip.

“We have the Prom gig at Hayes County High again, and possibly the one at Goshen. Are you going to be up to playing and singing at the end of April and the beginning of May?”

“I don’t know why not,” Elizaveta replied. “I’ll only be at six months at the end of May. I think it’ll be fine.”

“OK. I’m going to learn an extra song just in case, but I’ll let Kim know you’re going to sing with me.”

“What song?”

“Somebody’s Baby by Jackson Browne. We’re also adding I Know You’re Out There Somewhere and Raised on the Radio. Our new final song will be Jailhouse Rock.”

“More Blues Brothers!”

“Yes! Anyway, what’s on your list?”

“The usual things. We don’t start even our limited fasting for another two weeks. Is there anything special you want me to make this week?”

“No. You know I love anything you put on the table!”

“Including me?” Elizaveta teased.

“That would be a very tasty morsel!”

“You really do like how I taste.”

“I love how you taste, Kitten.”

“And I love how you taste, husband! Do you need bananas?”

“I need to keep practicing sutures. I won’t get a chance to do anything for real until June at the earliest.”

“OK. Then get six, I think.”

I picked out six bananas, selecting a bunch that still had a hint of green because they’d ripen on the counter, and if they were fully yellow, they’d be too brown by Friday. I also picked out apples, grapefruit, cucumbers, a head of Romaine lettuce, fresh carrots, celery, a head of broccoli, and some tomatoes. In the meat section, we chose fish and chicken, and then stocked up on Lenten staples — pasta, tomato sauce, beans, flour, and yeast.

“Do you plan to give your half-brother or half-sister a birth gift?” Elizaveta asked when we were on the way home.

“I hadn’t even thought about it,” I replied. “I suppose it would be the polite thing to do. Any suggestions? My knowledge of babies is limited to what I learned in class.”

“You are going to be in huge trouble in about seven months!”

“Tell me something I didn’t already know! I’m hoping you can keep me from making rookie mistakes!”

“That’s a tall order, even for a Russian woman!”

“I’m not going to argue with that!” I chuckled.

“I think maybe some onesies. You can’t have too many of those, because it’s so easy for them to get spit on, drooled on, peed on, or pooped on. And that’s just by the dad!”

I laughed hard.

“Or maybe it’s the baby,” Elizaveta continued. “I’ll stop on the way home from school on Monday and get something. She could deliver at any time, right?”

“Her due date was sometime in mid-March, I think, so anytime starting about ten days from now.”

“I’ll get neutral colors — green or yellow — as we don’t know if you’re going to have a new sister or brother.”

“That concept is SO weird,” I said, shaking my head. “But I suppose I’ll get used to it, eventually.”

“What has your sister said?”

“Nothing. She’s basically ignoring the situation. Mom is amused, which surprised me.”

“Amused? Why?”

“Mostly at dad having a baby at his age, which is actually not all that crazy historically. When women died in childbirth, it wasn’t uncommon for a man in his forties or fifties to marry a younger woman and have more children. Sometimes they’d marry young widows, but other times they’d marry someone who had never married. I remember reading about a Civil War soldier who was in his seventies or eighties who married a young woman and fathered a child.”

“I still think it’s amusing that your step-mom is younger than you are!”

“You know full well that I do NOT consider her to be my step-mom, and I won’t. Yes, I know it’s technically true, but it’s not true in any other way. She’s my dad’s second wife, and that’s it.”

“You’re so easy to wind up!”

“I know how to wind you up, Kitten, and perhaps next time I’ll simply stop once you’re all wound up!”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

She was right, of course, because I very much enjoyed what happened when she was wound up!

February 17, 1987, McKinley, Ohio

“Hi, Mike!” Trina said when I walked into her small office. “I have a patient in Exam 1, but I decided to wait for you. She’s only been here for a couple of minutes, so it’s not like I delayed her.”

“What’s the general complaint?”

“Being sixteen and missing her period.”

“That would certainly be a legitimate complaint,” I observed.

“Before we go in, I need to say that I will probably offer to discuss terminating the pregnancy, along with other options.”

“I’m aware. I’ll keep my mouth shut. She’s not my patient.”

“What would you counsel?”

“Adoption if she isn’t willing or able to keep and care for her baby. I would, of course, provide the brochures. If she wanted advice on abortion, I’d call a female to talk to her on general principles, but also because of my religious views.”

“On general principles?”

“One of the dumbest things I’ve discovered about medicine so far is that the vast majority of OB/GYN practitioners are men. I am fully aware of our limitations when it comes to women, labor, and childbirth! I’m of the opinion that midwifery should be the primary choice for childbirth.”

“My, aren’t we enlightened!”

“Excuse me?” I responded.

“Sorry, I just didn’t expect a male clergyman from an ultraconservative denomination to be a feminist.”

“I oppose discrimination in all forms and flavors, and I am fully aware of the poor treatment women receive from male doctors, and not just OB/GYNs. And it’s not just women, either, it’s minorities, and gay men with what’s being called AIDS, as well. The oath I took requires it, as does Christian love.”

“Not the answer I expected.”

“That’s because, in your mind, conservative Christianity is like what they teach at Faith Bible Church or others like it, or the Roman version, which is really the same error, albeit with a slightly different spin. But I don’t think you want a theology lesson.”

“Actually, my maternal great-grandparents were from Russia. That’s where I get my name, though I think they Americanized it.”

“That’s common. Her name was probably Yekaterina.”

“Yes, that’s it, exactly. We can talk after we see our patient, if we have time.”

“What’s her name?”

“Brenda Noonan. Do you know her?”

I shook my head, “No.”

We left the small office and went to Exam 1, where Trina picked up the chart, knocked, and then went in. I saw a pretty girl with long, blonde hair sitting in the chair next to the exam table.

“Hi, Brenda! I’m Trina, a Nurse-Practitioner. This is Mike Loucks, a medical student.”

“Hi,” Brenda replied, then looked at me. “I know you. You embarrassed our former youth pastor in that debate!”

“You were there?”

“Yes. Alyssa Greenwald is a friend of mine.”

“If you’re worried, Mike cannot say anything to anyone about anything he learns here.”

“Alyssa knows. She brought me here. She’s in the waiting room.”

“What caused you to come see us today?” Trina asked.

“I thought I filled out all the paperwork.”

“You did, but it’s our usual practice to ask the patient to tell us. People don’t always do well with filling out forms.”

“I missed my period last week.”

“How late do you think you are?”

“About eight days. I’ve never been more than a day either side of the day I expect to get my period. It should have been a week ago Monday.”

“And you’ve had unprotected sex since your last period.”

“I made a very dumb mistake,” Brenda said. “Yes.”

“How long have you been sexually active?”

“Does one time, three weeks ago, count as ‘sexually active’?” she asked.

I almost groaned, but managed not to. I had twenty bucks in my pocket that said she and her boyfriend had basically been in the same position I’d been in with Tasha at the lake, and he hadn’t made a promise that had required him to walk away. Heck, I almost didn’t walk away, even having made that promise! The surprising thing was how calm and matter-of-fact Brenda was. I would have expected her to be nervous, scared, or both.

“It does, and you were very unlucky. But as Doctor Ruth Westheimer says, all it takes to get pregnant is ‘vun qvick vun!’, meaning sperm. You’re sixteen, so you aren’t required to tell me who the father is if you don’t want to, but is he aware you might be pregnant?”

She smiled wryly and shook her head, “I’m going to have problems with my parents, but he’s going to be in up to his eyeballs.”

“What do you mean by problems with your parents?” Trina asked.

“Well, besides their perfect little angel having had sex, she’s pregnant. They’ll be totally shocked, upset, and think I’m ruined for life.”

“You seem to be pretty confident and calm.”

“I got my freakout and crying done yesterday morning with one of those EPT kits. Now I need to deal with the ramifications of ten minutes of fumbling in the dark in the back seat of a car.”

“Are you a good student?”

“Straight A’s.”

“And you had health class?”

“Oh, I did,” Brenda sighed. “And I paid attention, too. But my hormones took over and here I am.”

“If you’re pregnant, what do you intend to do?”

“Have the baby. And before you say there are alternatives, I won’t kill my baby. I’m pretty sure Mike’s church teaches the same thing as mine does.”

I looked to Trina for permission to answer, which she gave with her eyes.

“That’s correct,” I said.

“Do you think your parents might become violent or abusive?” Trina asked.

“I’ll get called every name in the book for girls who break the rule I broke, but they won’t hurt me, and I don’t think they’ll kick me out or anything like that.”

“OK. Before you leave, we’ll give you the brochure we give all young women who find themselves in your situation. It discusses options, tells you what help is available from the government, and what services we can provide. Do you have an OB/GYN?”

“Yes, and he’s a member of our church.”

“When was the last time you saw him?”

“Right before my birthday, so about six months ago.”

“We’re going to do a full exam, including a pelvic exam, and then draw some blood for a pregnancy test. We’ll also do a full blood panel to make sure you’re healthy, and that will include STD tests.”

“STD tests?”

“It’s far easier to contract a sexually transmitted disease than it is to get pregnant, and intercourse isn’t the only way to contract one. We want to make sure there’s no risk to you or your baby if you’re pregnant.”