Good Medicine - Residency II
Copyright© 2025 by Michael Loucks
Chapter 8: An Olive Branch
March 22, 1990, McKinley, Ohio
"What are you doing tomorrow night while the girls are at the baby shower?" Clarissa asked when we had lunch on Thursday.
"Rachel and I are going to my grandparents' house for dinner with the family; well, not my dad, Holly, and their kids."
"You haven't mentioned them much."
"The relationship is still strained."
"Because of your dad and Holly, right? Not you or Kris?"
"I have, from the beginning, tried to maintain my relationship with my dad, to whatever extent possible. He still doesn't understand my reaction to Liz and Paul, and I think he still believes I condemn him for his affair with Holly and for divorcing my mom. His philosophical system does not appear to have room for love and forgiveness, and he imputes that to everyone."
"I'm not sure what you can do unless he relents on that," Clarissa observed.
"Me, either. That said, I do have to find a way to see my half-brother and half-sister. Changing topics, can I ask you a question in total and complete confidence?"
"Of course, Petrovich! You know that!"
"Yes, but in this case, I actually needed to confirm. Were you aware of any complaints of sexual harassment or inappropriate behavior by Abby at the Free Clinic?"
Clarissa raised an eyebrow and asked, "How could you possibly know about those baseless accusations?"
"That's the part I can't discuss right now. You're sure they were baseless?"
"Absolutely. Abby insisted that it was two girls who knew she was lesbian and made complaints because of anti-gay animus, similar to Frank Bush and those kids from Faith Bible towards Robby and Lee. The cops closed their investigation almost immediately after speaking with Trina, Doctor Turner, and other staff at the clinic. I don't know any details beyond those, and I only know them because Abby shared. What's going on, Petrovich?"
"I was asked not to say," I replied.
"You're not in any trouble, are you?"
"No. I suspect you'll hear about it shortly."
"I'm not in any trouble, am I?"
"Absolutely not. I promise to tell you when I'm able, assuming you don't find out before then."
"How would I find out?"
"The same way I did," I replied.
Clarissa frowned, but I had promised the detectives that I wouldn't divulge the part of the conversation after they revealed the purpose of the investigation. We finished our lunch, and I headed back to the surgical ward while Clarissa headed to the ED.
Two hours later, she appeared in the lounge and asked to speak privately. I got up and we went to the consultation room, then shut the door.
"I just had a very concerning conversation with Detectives Kleist and Tremaine," Clarissa said.
"Probably the same one I had. About the Clinic?"
"Yes," Clarissa confirmed. "I honestly don't believe it."
"Me, either, but the detectives said there are four complaints."
"The first thing that popped into my mind is the anti-abortion protestors that are outside the clinic every day."
"That's new," I replied. "When did it start?"
"At the beginning of March," Clarissa said. "They're on the sidewalk every single day, trying to deter people from going to the clinic."
"And you think it's an attempt to get the clinic shut down?"
"It could be," Clarissa replied. "I mean, think about what public allegations would do, even if they turned out to be baseless."
"It would deter people from going there, especially young women. What group?"
"I don't know. They don't identify themselves, but some of their placards have Bible verses and crosses."
"Which doesn't narrow it down except to the myriad Christian churches in the area or some umbrella group. What did you tell the detectives?"
"I suspect the same thing you did — I have no knowledge of anything like that occurring."
"Did they ask about Abby?"
"Only tangentially, but they did know I dated her."
"I felt I needed to supply context of how I knew her. They didn't ask for any details once I told them about the Europe trip and the fact that you two dated."
"What happens if the cops close the investigation without filing charges?" Clarissa asked.
"I'm not exactly sure how it works, but someone could go to the County Prosecutor, who could open an investigation and file charges even if the cops didn't think there was enough evidence to charge Doctor Turner. My concern there is that the County Prosecutor is pro-life and made a big deal about it in his campaign. If he sees a way to harm the clinic, he might simply make the allegations public, even if charges are never filed."
"The city needs that clinic!" Clarissa declared. "And not just for abortions. Abortions are only a tiny fraction of the services they provide."
"Well, if the protestors are Roman Catholic, they probably object to birth control. And I'll wager anyone protesting probably objects to minors being provided with sex education, STD counseling, or anything like that, despite them being able to legally consent."
"Fucking wonderful," Clarissa groused. "I mean, there's no saying if that's the reason, but it would fit the facts. I mean, seriously, Gale Turner? I bet you anything that you're right, and whoever it was who made an appointment with him did so on a pretext."
"I can see how you're thinking," I replied, "but there's always a nurse in the room for exams if the doctor is male. That's a sacrosanct rule, and I've never violated it, there or here. And it was Gale Turner who impressed on me how important that rule is."
"So what happens if Leslie says he was never alone with a female patient?"
"No clue. I mean, that should be sufficient, but someone could argue she's covering for him because she's his nurse."
"Then what?" Clarissa asked.
"Then it's 'he said/she said'," I replied. "The problem is they have four complaints. If it were one, I'd be inclined to discount it. Two, possibly, based on what was said about Abby. But four? That's hard to discount. Yes, I did suggest it might be a conspiracy of some kind, but is that going to hold up?"
"It doesn't have to, right? The bad publicity from the charges would be enough to ruin Doctor Turner and tarnish the clinic. Think about your concern back when we were Freshmen at Taft."
"Yeah," I sighed. "He'd be totally screwed. He might be able to move out of state and practice, though he'd need a license from the new state, and who knows what might happen with the accusations hanging over his head."
"I don't see any way of protecting yourself against false accusations," Clarissa said. "Even if, say, Kellie backed you, they could say she was lying to cover for you."
"I know," I replied. "It's a lousy situation, and I don't see any solution. Even saying only female doctors treat female patients doesn't solve the problem because similar charges could be made, especially if the doctor were a lesbian. Think how that would play with the County Prosecutor and a jury. And there's another thing to consider — if something happens to Gale Turner, no Residents could work at the clinic."
"Leaving only Trina. What a mess! Sorry, but I need to get back to the ED. My break is over. I felt I had to come to talk to you."
"Keep me posted, though I expect we'll hear about the next step."
"Unfortunately."
Clarissa and I left the consultation room, I went to the lounge, and she returned to the ED.
March 23, 1990, Rutherford, Ohio
On Friday, I called my dad and asked if we could visit, so Rachel and I went there first before going to Grandpa Mikhail's house.
"Hi, Dad," I said when he opened the door to the house.
"Hi, Mike. Hi, Rachel."
"Hi, «Grand-Père»!" Rachel replied.
"This one is 'Grandpa'," I corrected.
Dad laughed and invited us in. I greeted Holly and my half-siblings, Peter and Faith, then set Rachel down with the kids. Once I was sure she'd be happy, I asked my dad to speak privately. He agreed, and we went to his study.
"I didn't realize Kris was teaching Rachel to speak French," Dad said.
"She's not! It's my troublesome sister-in-law who finds it amusing."
"How much Russian does Rachel speak?"
"None. I haven't taught her any at all, and the Kozlovs chose not to, either. Kris doesn't speak French with Rachel; only Lyudmila does. Have you taught the kids any Dutch?"
Dad laughed, "The last person in the family who spoke any Dutch was a lieutenant in George Washington's Continental Army! According to family stories, even he only spoke a little."
"Can we find a way to put everything that happened in the past behind us?" I inquired.
"This is about Liz, isn't it?"
"Not specifically, but she is part of the family. I know I have to work on her, but that won't do any good if you can't treat Paul Reynolds at least cordially."
"You still don't see it, do you?" Dad asked, shaking his head and sounding slightly exasperated.
"I've always seen it! I counseled Liz against seeing him again, but she didn't listen. That left me with a stark choice — love and support her, even if I didn't approve, or cut her off. But you know what? None of that matters at this point because they're married, and you have a grandson and another grandkid on the way."
"Liz is pregnant?"
"Yes, and due in early July. Whatever you think of Paul, he's your son-in-law and the father of your grandchild; two, soon enough. Can you please see your way fit to set aside your animus for their sake? And for Grandma Loucks' sake? I guarantee she wants to see all her great-grandkids, though I haven't spoken to her in some time, which is on me, and I'll rectify that.
"All of us — you, me, Mom, Liz, and Paul — have made errors, some of them grievous, but no matter what, we're still part of the same family, even if we don't act like it. Yes, you and Mom divorced, but that didn't somehow erase the fact that you're my dad, and she's my mom, and that Liz and I are your kids, and soon enough, you'll have four grandkids."
"So nothing matters?"
"Everything matters, but no matter what has happened in the past, we can forgive and move forward in love. That's been my point from day one. Paul served his time, including a lengthy parole. He's a productive member of the community, a good husband to Liz, and a good father to Mikey. That has to be worth something. Honestly, if anyone had a right to complain, it would have been Liz, and she's the only one who didn't complain. I called the Sheriff!"
"But you've reconsidered that, haven't you?"
"I wouldn't say that, but I would say that I've considered my thought process, and it was suspect. I was moved by moral outrage that Paul was married and had a kid. Without that, I can't say for sure what I would have done because I acted purely on that outrage."
"You love to use your mom's tactics of dancing around straight answers."
"Because, quite often, there aren't any," I replied. "I see that in medicine every single day. The hardest thing to do is say 'wait and see', and yet, in many instances, that's the correct course of action. Parents hate that answer, especially when little Bobby or Timmy swallowed something they shouldn't have, like coins or batteries. If they don't get the kid to the Emergency Department before those pass through the stomach, the answer is to wait for them to work their way through the digestive system.
"The same is true for kids with what might be appendicitis. We have a set of criteria, and if they aren't met, we send them home and tell them to return if the symptoms don't resolve. The reason for that is that in kids, it's tough to distinguish between the early symptoms of appendicitis and some other gastrointestinal conditions. It sucks for everyone, but medicine is not an exact science with straight answers for everything.
"That was perhaps the most important thing I've learned in the past nine years. Don't you think that the overall human condition, from whichever philosophical perspective you want to approach it, has more grey areas than it does black and white answers? I certainly see that, mainly because there are too many variables to consider. Think about the moral question — is it OK to steal a loaf of bread to feed your starving child?"
"Whichever answer I give, you're going to try to score points," Dad said.
"Which reinforces the point I'm trying to make! There is no easy answer. Let me ask you this, though I suspect you won't want to answer — if Paul had been single and nineteen, would you have felt the same way?"
"Absolutely."
"And if he had been seventeen?" I asked.
"Your sister was fourteen!" Dad protested.
"Yes, she was. And she willingly had sex. The State says she couldn't consent, but she disagrees. The thing is, you would have been outraged no matter what the circumstances because you felt Liz absolutely had to be a virgin on her wedding night. But you know what? That wasn't up to you, nor was it, in the end, any of your business."
"She was fourteen and my daughter! That makes it my business!"
"And when would you say it stops being your business? How old will Faith have to be before you aren't outraged if she chooses to do what you and I both did?"
"Did you come here to pick a fight and rub my nose in it?"
"No. I came here to try to reconcile. I asked you to try, and you immediately pushed back."
"Why can't you leave it alone?"
"Because I love you. I need to get to Grandpa Mikhail's for dinner, but I'll leave you with this thought — think about the day Liz got married and what Elizaveta said to you."
Dad simply looked at me, so I said 'goodbye', left his study, and collected Rachel. I said 'goodbye' to my half-siblings, and Rachel gave them each a hug. My dad didn't come out of his study, so I bade Holly 'goodbye' and Rachel and I left the house for the drive to my grandfather's house.
"I'll take my granddaughter!" Mom declared with a goofy smile when we walked into the house.
"Hi, Mike! How are you? I'm fine, Mom! How are you?" I teased in falsetto and my own tone.
"You know she does that on purpose, right?" Liz asked.
"Obviously!" I said, handing Rachel to my mom.
"How is your father?" Mom asked.
"Basically the same. I keep trying, but I'm making no progress. For the short term, I'm just going to make sure I see my half-siblings as regularly as I can, and Rachel sees her aunt and uncle."
"That is SO weird!" Elaine exclaimed. "Rachel's aunt and uncle are the same age or younger!"
"Stranger still is that my stepmom, if I called Holly that, is younger than I am. How are you and April doing?"
"Great! I have a boyfriend, and Stefan actually likes him!"
I laughed, "Junior or Senior?"
"Will is a Senior. He plans to go to UC and wants to be a lawyer."
"The plot thickens!" I chuckled. "Good move on that one!"
"I know, right!" she said with a twinkle in her eye.
"How are you feeling, Liz?" I asked.
"No morning sickness, and I'm not too uncomfortable yet. That comes in a couple of months. How is Kris doing?"
"Fine. She did send her regards, but Jocelyn's baby shower took precedence."
"They were very lucky to get an infant," Stefan observed.
"They were! Where's Grandpa?"
"He had to run a quick errand. He should be here momentarily."
"Hi, Mike!" Grandpa Mikhail said as he came into the room just then.
"Hi, Grandpa!"
"Dinner is ready!" Grandma called out.
"Talk about perfect timing!" I exclaimed, then went to help my grandmother get the food onto the table.
We had a nice meal, and we caught up on all the family doings, which, for the most part, were mundane. That was actually OK, as excitement in our family tended towards the negative side of the scale, though the two impending births would be positive.
"We're going to have a girl," I said. "Our intention is to name her Charlotte Michelle."
"Rachel got her wish!" Liz declared. "No baby brothers, and no BIG brothers. Wait, they're the same thing!"
"Love you, too, Lizard Breath!"
"Boys are loud!" Rachel declared.
"That often doesn't go away with age!" my grandmother interjected with a smile.
"Excuse me?" I said with a similar smile. "I'm quiet, and so is Grandpa. And Dad was as quiet as the grave."
"The Borodin men are thinking men," my grandfather said soberly.
"Mostly about how not to upset our wives!" I chuckled.
"A good point!" my grandfather said with a smile of his own.
"Rachel thinks little Viktor is loud, and he's a very rambunctious kid, or as I've heard said, a hundred percent boy. Geno says little Viktor takes after his uncle, which I believe, given neither Viktor nor Geno is excitable in any way."
"Papa?" Rachel said.
"Yes?"
"Potty?"
"I'll take her," my mom offered.
"NO!" Rachel said fiercely. "PAPA!"
"Oops," Mom said.
"Someone is asserting herself!" Paul smirked.
"Mostly Russian with a dash of French," I said. "The recipe for a stubborn troublemaker!"
I took Rachel to the potty and, after she'd finished, returned to the table for dessert. We were in Great Lent, which meant no ice cream, but we did have a fasting-acceptable cake along with our coffee. After dessert, Paul and I helped my grandma clear the table and wash the dishes. After the chores were done, we had coffee in the family room, and at about 9:30pm, Rachel and I left to return to McKinley, which would have us arrive just after the shower ended at 10:00pm.
March 24, 1990, Southern Ohio Correctional Facility, Lucasville, Ohio
On Saturday, after band practice and grocery shopping, Protodeacon Ivan had come to the house, and he and I had driven together to the prison so we could serve a Typika and I could meet with Frank Bush and the other men.
As usual, Frank and I played chess while Protodeacon Ivan spent time with Nick. When Frank and I finished our games, we moved to the chapel. I was happy to see a total of twelve men in attendance, though I knew many of them might be like Sean Casey — simply there to break up the monotony of prison life. When the service finished, I had my usual brief chats with each man, checking to see if they needed anything.
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