Chapter 7: Red Scrubs

June 29, 1989, Greater Cincinnati, Ohio

"Hi, Ang," I said when she greeted Kris, Rachel, and me at the door.

"Hi, Mike! May I hold Rachel?"

"That's up to her," I replied. "She's discovering her independence!"

"She's almost two, right?" Mrs. Stephens asked from behind Angie.

"At the end of August," I replied as I handed a willing Rachel to Angie.

Kris and I followed Angie as she carried Rachel into the living room, and once Angie was settled, I left the three girls and joined Mrs. Stephens in the kitchen. Mr. Stephens joined us a moment later.

"First," she said, "you should call us Marjorie and Ken."

"And you should continue to call me Mike," I replied. "Are you willing to proceed with the formal complaint to the Medical Board?"

"Yes," Ken replied firmly. "My only question is, who'll be paying the attorney."

"A close friend who has the resources and wishes to remain anonymous," I replied. "I already spoke to my stepdad, and he recommended an attorney from his firm who specializes in malpractice. My friend will pay the bill directly."

"What do we need to do?" Marjorie asked.

"The attorney, Tom Kirkland, will call you in the next few days. He'll want to gather any records you have, and he'll likely subpoena files from Doctor Mercer and Doctor Greenberg. Stefan will provide him copies of the depositions and the settlement agreement."

"And that doesn't prevent us from doing this?" Ken asked.

"No. It says you won't take any legal action, and you aren't. The Ohio Medical Licensing Board is an administrative body, not a judicial one. Doctor Greenberg may try to make that argument, but according to Stefan, it's a settled principle in Ohio courts that actions by licensing boards are administrative in nature."

"Do you think he'll have his license revoked?" Marjorie asked.

"It's unlikely, according to everyone with whom I've spoken, but the complaint will go into his records, and that means any additional complaint would be given much greater weight, even if, in the end, he's not disciplined. That said, I think the argument I'm going to make is inescapable, and the board will have no choice but to, at a minimum, issue a reprimand. We'll go for more than that, of course, but sadly, that's the most probable outcome."

"Why?" Ken asked.

"Because he followed the standard treatment protocols, and that is almost invariably sufficient to defeat claims of malpractice. That said, I believe I can show he actually didn't do that, which will, I hope, force the Board to act."

"How do you plan to show that?"

"As I'm positive you know, one of the key symptoms of schizophrenia is not being able to process things long term — literally everything is 'now'."

"Right," Marjorie said. "Angie wasn't able to think long term."

"And that right there is what Doctor Greenberg got so very wrong. When Angie decided she was going to do whatever was necessary to get to a point where she and I could marry, she was thinking about the future, outside the moment, had made a plan, and was successfully executing it. That is not a sign of someone who is suffering from full-blown schizophrenia and is a strong sign that something has changed. In my opinion, that's why the insurance company settled. They knew they would lose, not just on emotion, but on facts."

"And you saying that, as a doctor, carries weight?"

"They'll argue that I have insufficient experience, but I have the textbooks and peer-reviewed journal articles on my side, not to mention I believe, in the end, Doctor Mercer will confirm. I think she'll testify on our behalf, not Doctor Greenberg's."

"Angie really liked her."

"Me, too, until she listened to Doctor Greenberg instead of all of us. That said, I understand why she did, even if I don't agree. Anyway, I should spend some time with Angie before dinner."

"Thanks, Mike," Marjorie said.

"Yes, thanks, Mike," Ken added.

"You're welcome."

We went back to the living room where Angie had Rachel on her lap, and I briefly flashed to an alternate universe where Rachel was mine and Angie's, though I suspected strongly she'd have had red, rather than black, hair. The source of Rachel's black hair could be either side of the family, as all of Elizaveta's family had black hair, as did my mom and grandfather, while I had my dad's sandy brown hair. The odd one out was my maternal grandmother, who had been blonde before her hair had turned white.

"How does it feel to be a doctor, Mike?" Angie asked.

"Not all that different, really. My final rotation in the Emergency Department was basically exactly what it will be like for the next few months, only I don't need close supervision and can work more independently. How are you doing?"

"OK, I guess. I'm working and going to Aikidō."

Which was probably about the limit for her, given she was still taking psychoactive drugs, albeit at very low doses. I doubted she'd ever be able to go back to school or get a better job than her data entry job, but it was something, when the alternative was nothing. I hated the situation and wished there was something I could do other than exacting a pound of flesh from the psychiatrist, but sadly, any last hope had been destroyed by his actions.

"That's good."

"Are you going to have more kids?"

"Angie..." her mom said firmly.

"It's OK," I said to Marjorie, then turned to look at Angie again, "Yes, Kris and I plan to have two more."

"What do you do, Kris?" Ken asked.

"I'm enrolled at Ohio State University in political science with a goal of an advanced degree in Public Administration."

"And you've been in the US for how long?"

"Almost eighteen months," Kris replied.

"Her citizenship papers will be filed next week," I added.

"That's fast!" Ken declared.

"They were issued Green Cards based on her dad's job, and a Green Card holder can apply after eighteen months if they're married. Once Kris is approved, then her parents can apply early as well."

A timer rang, and Marjorie asked us all to go to the table while she brought the food to the table. She'd made oven-fried chicken, home-style fries, bread, and coleslaw. I was asked to give the blessing, which I did, and then we dug in. The food was excellent, and I ate more than I probably should have, but it was so good that I simply couldn't resist. Dessert was apple pie and ice cream, along with coffee.

When we finished, I offered to help Marjorie with the dishes, which gave Angie more time with Rachel. After we finished the dishes, I spent a bit of time with Angie, and then Kris, Rachel, and I said 'good night' and headed home.

June 30, 1989, Circleville, Ohio

"What are we doing today?" Kris asked at breakfast on Friday morning. "You start your Residency tomorrow, and I start classes on Wednesday."

"I think we should do the grocery shopping today. We really won't have time tomorrow after band practice, and I can't skip that, given we have our concert on Tuesday."

"No, of course not! Grocery shopping today is fine. And a stop at the record store?"

"Yes. I also want to stop at Barnes & Noble and place a pre-order for the book I promised to buy for Frank Bush."

"We should obviously stop at the record store and bookstore before the grocery store, given how warm it is outside."

"Obviously," I agreed.

"What about tonight?"

"No plans, as most of the gang is gone, and several others aren't available. You're OK with what Serafima and Alyssa suggested after Vespers on Wednesday evening — that we restart in the Fall with what we used to call Dinner Club, which would be them, us, and Ghost and Oksana, right?"

"Yes, of course! And, as you and I discussed, we'll find time to get together with José and Sierra, Gene and Jocelyn, and Clarissa and Tessa."

"Then let's just stay in, have a quiet family dinner, and once Rachel goes to bed, you and I can take a nice bubble bath."

"«C'est magnifique!»" Kris exclaimed happily. "And after the bubble bath?" ("magnificent")

"Anything you want, of course!"

"As it should be!" Kris declared.

"Some day, Rachel will say that to YOU, and I'll laugh!"

"She's much more likely to say it to you!"

"Papa? Want Abby!"

"She's in Spain, which is far, far away. She'll be home in about two weeks."

Rachel crossed her arms and stared at me, but there was really nothing I could do. She'd be back in hospital daycare on Wednesday, which I hoped would improve her mood. We needed more friends with daughters, but so far, except for Abigail, there were only boys, including my nephews. My half-sister and my adoptive niece lived too far away for Rachel to see her regularly.

"I think we need to find a few more girls for Rachel to play with," I said. "But the majority of the babies at Saint Michael, Holy Transfiguration, and the cathedral, and in my family, are boys. Anna has remarked a few times that we need more girls because Viktor Gennadyevich will need a wife!"

"It's a bit soon to worry about that, don't you think?" Kris asked.

"Specifically, yes, but the general problem is that when our young men marry outside the church, they usually leave and attend their wife's church. When our young women marry outside the church, their husbands usually attend our church. So if we have too many boys in the parishes, we have a long-term problem unless the trend of which church mixed-faith couples attend is reversed."

"I never really paid close attention to that in Paris, but I've heard others here say that."

"In any event, Rachel will have her choice of boys in about thirteen years. But for now, she much prefers the company of girls."

"If I had to spend time with Viktor Gennadyevich, I would, too!"

I chuckled, "He is one hundred percent 'boy' and reminds me of his uncle more than his dad."

"You mean Joe, not you, right?"

"I was more like Rachel when I was little, and you know I hung out with Jocelyn more than anyone else. And that was true even after Dale and I became friends in second grade after I had some disagreement with Jocelyn. Whatever the source of our disagreement was, it's lost in the mists of time, but me hanging out with Dale caused Jocelyn to seek me out to reconcile, and that created a trio of fast friends."

"You do have some qualities which are more feminine."

"That's been said before, and I attribute it to a combination of my mom and Jocelyn."

"PAPA! WANT ABBY!" Rachel demanded.

"I wish you could understand what it means to say she's in Spain," I replied. "You'll see your friends in daycare on Wednesday."

"Why don't you take her on Monday?" Kris asked. "She really hasn't seen her friends in a month. I'll pick her up, and if you're able, we could have dinner together at the hospital."

"Let's give that a shot," I said. "I really do not want an unhappy toddler!"

"Think about my situation," Kris teased. "I have to raise two toddlers!"

"Oh, give me a break!" I chuckled. "I was already housebroken when you met me! You owe thanks to my mom, Jocelyn, Clarissa, and Elizaveta for that!"

"You are useful around the house," Kris observed. "Especially in the bedroom!"

"Gee, thanks," I replied with a grin.

"Would you prefer I said not in the bedroom?" Kris asked lightly.

"No."

We finished our breakfast, cleaned up the kitchen, then got ready to run our errands. Our first stop was Barnes & Noble, where I pre-ordered Clear and Present Danger for Frank Bush and arranged for it to be mailed to him at Southern Ohio Correctional Facility. Per the clerk, it would be shipped directly from their warehouse rather than to the store first, as the warehouse was fully up to speed on the rules for sending things into prisons.

Our next stop was the record store, though it now carried more CDs and video games than vinyl albums.

"What's new I should listen to?" I asked Johnny.

"Bleach, by Nirvana. They're a grunge band from Seattle. I think they're going to be big."

"You've never steered me wrong. What else?"

"The End of the Innocence by Don Henley or Disintegration by The Cure, which returns to their early 80s style. And The Miracle by Queen."

"Decisions, decisions! How about the new group and Queen?"

"You got it! CDs, correct?"

"Yes."

He retrieved both CDs for me, put them in a bag, and rang up my purchase.

"I read in the paper that you graduated and are officially a doctor now."

"I am. I actually start my first official shift tomorrow."

"Cool. Your daughter is growing like a weed!" he said as I handed him three $10 bills.

"She is! You know, I've never asked, do you have kids?"

"Two boys — six and three."

"Business still good?"

"Being the only dedicated store in town helps, though I get undercut by K-Mart. My selection is wider, and I do special orders, not to mention my regular customers. Adding video games helped, and I'm going to start carrying video game hardware, too. And I've expanded my used album business. I know you won't sell, but if you know anyone looking to unload vinyl or CDs, let them know."

"Will do."

Johnny handed me my change, I thanked him, and then Kris, Rachel, and I headed for Kroger. We completed our grocery shopping, stopped at the bakery, then headed home. After we put away the groceries, I put on the Nirvana album.

"You like this?" Kris asked.

"I have eclectic tastes," I replied. "Grunge isn't my preferred style, but I do appreciate the talent and artistry. I'd say Johnny is correct, and Nirvana will be very popular."

After we listened to the album, we ate lunch, then put Rachel down for her nap. The rest of the day was quiet, and that evening, Kris and I had an enjoyable time in the bathtub and bed.

July 1, 1989, McKinley, Ohio

"How was Disney?" I asked José when he walked into the music room at Taft.

"You think the man even SAW the parks?" Sticks asked.

"I bet he did," I said.

"You'd win that bet," José replied. "Not that we didn't do what Sticks is implying! And yes, we had a great time."

"Shall we practice?" Kim asked. "We need to run through the two sets we're doing on Tuesday."

We did that, and Kim was happy with our practice. When we finished, we hurried to pick up Rachel at her grandparents' and then home for a shower. I dressed, put on the new long medical coat that my grandfather had given me, kissed my wife and daughter, then headed to Dorothea Rhodes Lummis Moore Memorial Hospital for my first shift of my PGY1.

Because I was assigned to the surgical staff, I reported to Doctor Vince Taylor in the Surgical Department at 11:30am.

"We'll dispense with the usual first-day Resident BS," he said. "I've been assigned as your mentor, but I don't think you'll need much mentoring from me for your first two years. Your mentor in the ED is Ghost, and you should go to him for anything related to emergency medicine and to me for anything else. Doctor Cutter wants you to wear red scrubs."

"Marking his territory, so to speak," I said with a grin.

Doctor Taylor laughed, "That's one way to put it, but yes, he wants to ensure that everyone knows you're officially a surgical Intern. He feels it's better to differentiate the surgeons from the other doctors in the ED."

"OK. I'll take several sets down to the ED locker room with me, so I don't have to come up here if I need to change."

"Actually, your locker is here," Doctor Taylor said.

"Turf war, right?"

"Good guess. It started as soon as you Matched. I assumed you knew."

"I didn't. I thought there was a requirement for surgical Residents to be supervised by surgeons."

"There is, but you're in a grey area, at least for the next two years. In any event, Doctor Cutter prevailed, but that hasn't stopped Doctor Northrup."

"Wonderful," I sighed. "Day one, and it's already political."

"Just be a doctor and ignore the BS. You can do that as a PGY1. Let the senior Attendings fight it out with the Medical Director. In the end, you're going to be a board-certified surgeon, and that's the master trump."

"Trust me," I said with a smile, "I'll ignore it for as long as I possibly can!"

"See Penny at the nurses' station. She has your ID, your keys, and your pager."

"Keys?"

"We began locking all supply rooms as of last week. Too many consumables were disappearing. Everything has to be logged, not just drugs."

"More paperwork," I said, shaking my head.

"Unfortunately, I think we have to get used to it. Our patient load is up, and our funding levels are stagnant."

"Same old story. I did see the construction equipment in what used to be the grassy field outside the ED, so that's something."

"It is, but they should have built the new surgical wing first."

"Well, being on the surgical service, I'm not going to disagree with you, but I disagree with you!"

Doctor Taylor laughed, "I hear you. You're not a surgeon at heart, even if you'll make a very good one."

"Thanks, Doctor Taylor."

"It's Vince, please. All surgical Residents address each other by their first name."

"Thanks, Vince."

"Go see Penny and let me know if you need anything. I can't imagine what it might be, given you've been here for four years, which is longer than I have!"

I shook his hand and went to the nurses' station to see Penny, who was new.

"Hi, Penny," I said. "You have my ID, pager, and keys."

"Doctor Loucks?"

"Mike, please," I said.

"Protocol is to call all doctors by their title," she said.

"Then Doctor Mike, please."

"OK. I understand you were a medical student here, so I'm sure you know about the pager."

"I do."

She handed me the ID, pager, and keys, I thanked her, then headed to the locker room to change. Using the surgical locker room was a minor inconvenience for working in the ED, but, in the end, I was a member of the surgical service, so it made sense. I found the locker with the tag 'M. Loucks' on it and opened it, finding it empty as was to be expected.

I walked over to the cabinet which held the red scrubs, selected the correct size, changed into them, slung my stethoscope around my neck, clipped on my new photo ID, which identified me as 'Doctor Michael P. Loucks' and had the red 'S' symbolizing the surgical service superimposed on the lower left of my photo, while the lower right had the standard Staff of Asclepius.

Normally, surgical Residents wore surgical caps while on duty, and I had several I'd ordered, as they were personalized, but they were not usually worn in the ED, so I simply left them in my locker. Last, I put on my medical coat, which surgeons wore when not in surgery but which was generally dispensed with by doctors in the ED except when meeting with families.