Chapter 47: “It’s just so unfair.”

January 24, 1985, McKinley, Ohio

The phone rang on Thursday evening while we were studying, and I went to my room to answer it.

"Hi, Mike. It's Fran Mercer."

"Hi, Doctor Mercer."

"I had a session with Angie today and explained to her about why the State wouldn't let her marry. It didn't go well."

"What happened?" I asked apprehensively.

"She became very angry and agitated. Her psychiatrist ordered a mild sedative, but Angie is refusing to take it."

"Lord have mercy," I replied softly. "So now what?"

"She's not doing anything destructive or threatening to harm anyone, so her mom took her home. She has a follow-up appointment with the psychiatrist tomorrow, but I suspect she's going to resist."

"Do you think it would help if I asked her to go?"

"I think right now it's best if you stay a bit aloof. She's blaming me, her psychiatrist, and the State of Ohio. I'd much rather have her upset with us than with you or her mom."

"Is she having a meltdown?" I asked.

"No, this is just pure anger and frustration. But it could very well lead to a schizophrenic episode."

"Lovely. Did you call Father Stephen?"

"Yes, just after I saw Angie this morning. He was the second call after I spoke to Angie's psychiatrist. Father Stephen is going to try to see her tomorrow, but if he can't, or she won't see him, he'll try to speak with her at church, if she goes."

"I have a strong suspicion she'll go," I replied. "But I suspect she's going to start 'splitting', and she'll try to force him to take sides, which is why you told me to stay aloof, isn't it?"

"Did you read your entire Abnormal Psych text in one sitting? Or was it two?"

"I skimmed and read the important parts. Angie is going to divide the world into good and bad in a black-and-white manner. It's a function of depression, in addition to 'borderline personality disorder'. Is it possible she was misdiagnosed?"

"I take it you didn't read the section on borderline personality disorder in depth?"

"Correct."

"If your textbook is thorough, it will point out that patients with borderline personality disorder often exhibit signs of other disorders at some point in their lives. We haven't seen any indication of Angie having borderline personality disorder. She is not impulsive..."

"Her drive to see me in McKinley?" I asked, interrupting.

"That was planned, not impulsive. She quit taking her medication so she could drive."

"OK. Sorry to have interrupted."

"It's OK. She's not impulsive, nor does she engage in self-harm, and her relationships were neither unstable nor chaotic. So, as of now, I'd say our diagnosis is correct. But that's as of right now; that could change at any point."

"Wonderful," I sighed. "What do I do if she contacts me? Or comes to see me?"

"I'm hoping that doesn't happen, at least in the near term, but if she does, simply encourage her to listen to her doctors, take her medication, and follow her treatment plan. Tell her that your medical training requires that you support her doctors' diagnosis and treatment plan because you aren't qualified to make that kind of diagnosis. It's not technically true until you're actually in medical school, but it's true enough for our purposes."

"I can compare it to not interfering with spiritual guidance which comes from a priest or bishop," I replied. "It's more or less of the same character, just spiritual health instead of physical or mental health. But what happens when she asks if I'm willing to marry her? It's not like I can hide the fact that Elizaveta and I are getting married on May 26th."

"If she does contact you, and she raises the issue, blame me. She's already upset with me, and please don't take this the wrong way, but we need to preserve her affection for you for the future. She can get new counselors and new psychiatrists, but she can't get new family or close friends."

"That sounds so cynical," I replied. "Or maybe like a cheap parlor trick."

"Remember what we just discussed about splitting — we need to keep you and Angie's mom on the good side of the ledger; Father Stephen as well, if possible. One sure way to push her into a schizophrenic episode is if she thinks there are NO good people."

"What about her friend Anna?"

"She has a job lined up in Chicago with Allstate and will be moving there in June. She's also not really comfortable with Angie's illness."

"Which is a common reaction, according to my textbook."

"It is, even for family. Mental illness is poorly understood, and many, many people are unable to deal with friends or family who suffer from mental illness. You seem to be able to, and that's why I want to preserve some kind of good relationship between you and Angie, if possible."

"Do you think she'll call?"

"As I said, her mom will do her best to prevent that."

"Which isn't what I asked."

"If she still thinks of you as an ally, then I think she'll try, yes. And I do think she sees you as an ally."

"How do you do this?" I asked.

"It's not easy, but you'll face the same kind of challenges in the ER. There will be days when you wonder why you chose to be a doctor. There will be many other days when you see a smile on the face of a loved one when you tell them you saved their husband or wife, their dad or mom, their brother or sister, or their son or daughter. That's how you do it."

"I think we're going to be having quite a few conversations in the future."

"I'll be here. See you next month?"

"The 9th would be best; it's before Great Lent starts."

"That works. I'll see you then."

We said 'goodbye', and I hung up, then went back to the study group. When we finished, Clarissa followed me to my room.

"Does Elizaveta have anything planned for your birthday?" she asked.

"We're going out to dinner after Vespers. Why?"

"The gang wants to have a party for you at Doctor Blahnik's house on Friday."

"OK, but no gifts, please."

"I'll tell them that's your wish. May I get you something?"

"Yes, but please give it to me in private."

"OK. Will you eat cake, even if it's made with eggs?"

"Yes, of course. Were you planning dinner?"

"No. I figured we'd triple date with Jocelyn and Gene and start the party at 8:00pm."

"Sounds good. Chinese?"

"That is the best when you're fasting. Lent starts soon, right?"

I nodded, "Officially on the 25th, but 'Meatfare' is on the 17th. The Paschal cycle actually starts on the 3rd, with the Sunday of the Publican and Pharisee, and fasting that week is canonically forbidden."

"I'm starting to remember from last year. Maybe I should get one of those calendars."

"There are plenty on the table in the narthex. I'll bring you one."

"Thanks, but I think I'll come to church with you on Sunday, if that's OK."

"Always."

"Then I'll leave you to your prayers."

"Thanks."

She left and I said my prayers, performed my usual bedtime routine, then climbed into bed.

February 1, 1985, McKinley, Ohio

"This is WAY too much!" I protested.

"You're supposed to say 'thank you'', Mike!" Clarissa replied. "This is from Jocelyn, Abby, and me. And it makes sense."

"It does; but the cost!"

"Is none of your business! And, yes, I checked to make sure your stereo had a free set of RCA inputs."

The three women had bought me a Compact Disc player and three discs — 52nd Street by Billy Joel, Purple Rain by Prince, and Born to Run by Bruce Springsteen. I had all three of those on LPs, but I knew that releases on the new discs were still somewhat limited, so it made sense. It would also give me a chance to compare the sound, which people said was awesome but which I'd never heard.

"Thank you," I said.

"Look at it this way, Mike," Jocelyn said. "You can buy music either on LP or disc now. Rumor has it that discs will take over the world."

I chuckled, "We'll see. The cassette didn't kill albums, though I hear discs are supposed to have much higher fidelity."

"And your tape deck won't eat them!"

During our Senior year, the cassette player in my Mustang had eaten one of Jocelyn's homemade tapes. Fortunately, it was just a defect in the tape and not a problem with the cassette player, and Nate had been able to remove the tape for us without damaging the player.

"I need to go get Elizaveta," I announced. "See you at the Chinese restaurant?"

"Yes."

Just over thirty minutes later, Elizaveta and I walked into the Chinese restaurant where Clarissa, Abby, Jocelyn, and Gene were waiting and joined them at the table. We had a nice dinner, with the other two couples treating, and then headed to Doctor Blahnik's for the party. When we arrived, I was happy to see that my wishes for no gifts had been honored and that the entire gang, along with Joel and Milena and, of course, Doctor Blahnik and Derek, were at the house.

Doctor Blahnik had what I would have called European sensibilities about drinking, so there was wine and beer available despite many of the guests being under twenty-one, but most of our gang didn't drink much, if at all. With most of us planning post-graduate work, we were far too focused on grades to even think about getting drunk. I was mostly sticking to my 'only on special occasions' rule, though I did accept wine when Doctor Blahnik offered it — just not in the way she most wanted! I quickly pushed THAT thought out of my mind before it got me into trouble.

That worked, at least until Doctor Blahnik asked me to dance with her. It was something I wouldn't be able to do after ordination, but now, with Elizaveta's blessing, I could. Doctor Blahnik was careful not to dance TOO close, but in some ways, that made it worse, as her breasts occasionally rubbed gently across my chest. I struggled mightily to prevent a reaction, and managed, just, not to make it very obvious how enticing she was. When the song ended, I sought safety of a sort by asking Lara to dance with me.

"Did you?" she asked in Russian, and with a smirk.

"It would be against University rules and could get her fired," I replied but in English.

"Not an answer!" she laughed, switching to English.

"You know me better than that," I said.

"That you won't say if you did or that you didn't do it?"

"Troublemaker!"

"Always! Elizaveta won't get upset if I give you a birthday kiss on the cheek, will she?"

"She's Russian enough to understand," I replied. "And you're Russian, so she won't read anything into it."

When the song finished, Lara did give me a kiss on each cheek, and I went back to where Elizaveta was waiting. I put my arm around her waist, and she slipped hers around mine, then leaned her head against my shoulder. We stood together for a bit until Milena and Joel carried a large sheet cake into the room, adorned with twenty-two candles, and everyone sang Happy Birthday.

"«С днём рождения» (S dnom rozhdeniya)!" Lara and Elizaveta proclaimed in unison when they finished. ("Happy Birthday")

"Thank you all!" I replied, then blew out the candles with one long breath.

"Many years, husband!" Elizaveta said softly, then kissed my cheek.

"Mom and I have a special song we'd like to sing for you," Milena announced. "Have you heard of the cartoon «Чебурашка» (Cheburashka)?" ("Topple")

"No," I replied.

"It's from the early 70s, and this is Gena the Crocodile's Song. The premise is that it's his birthday, and he's alone, so he sings himself this song."

Milena and her mom sang the song in nearly perfect Russian, and when they finished, everyone applauded.

[ See the following link for the music and a possible translation:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v-0xugvRnUg

and the following for an alternate translation (which I feel is better):
https://www.letspolka.com/2009/06/crocodile-genas-birthday-song/ ]

"Translation?" Jocelyn asked. "I don't speak 'Sputnik'!"

Everyone laughed and Doctor Blahnik gave a rough translation of the song, and then Joel cut the cake. Derek brought a few bottles of champagne into the room, and once everyone had a glass and a piece of cake, Clarissa gave a toast.

"To my best friend in the world, happy birthday and many years!"

"Happy birthday, Mike!" everyone proclaimed with raised glasses.

When we'd eaten our cake and drunk our champagne, the music was turned up, and there was dancing and socializing until it was time for me to take Elizaveta home.

"Where are we going tomorrow night?" she asked as I pulled into the driveway at her house.

"A Japanese restaurant near Columbus," I said. "It's one of my favorite places, but it's a bit expensive, so I don't go too often."

"And our dates?"

"I budgeted for entertainment when I worked out my plan for college and medical school. Your dad isn't going to charge us rent, so our finances will be fine. I've also applied for several scholarships and grants, and if my success with them for my undergraduate degree is any indication, I should get some. And my parents will contribute towards my tuition for four more years."

"Are they helping your sister?"

"She and Paul chose not to take the money my mom offered, and I see their point. On the plus side, my dad is at least continuing to be semi-cordial to Paul, even if they'll likely never really be friends. But it's still touch-and-go."

"I'm glad you and my dad get along."

"Me, too!"

We got out of the car, I walked her to the door, we exchanged a soft kiss, and after she went inside, I got into my car and drove back to campus.

February 2, 1985, McKinley, Ohio

"Hi, Mike!" Tracy said as I came into the dorm lobby after my morning run in the gym.

"Hi, Tracy."

"I hear it's your birthday."

"It is."

"Wanna celebrate?" she asked with a sultry look.

I shook my head and held up my hand, "I promised not to."

"I won't tell if you don't!"

"It doesn't work that way," I replied. "If you'll excuse me, I need a shower."

"Need some help?"

"Not since I was little," I said and then walked towards the elevators.

I took the elevator upstairs, showered, trimmed my beard, dressed, then met the gang for breakfast. After breakfast, the usual 'inner circle' gathered in my room — Clarissa, Lara, Jocelyn, Robby, Lee, Sophia, Sandy, Pete, Kimiko, Brandon, José, Dona, and, because he and Jocelyn had hit it off, Gene.

"Doing anything special to celebrate your birthday?" Sandy asked.

"Well, when I came back from my run, Tracy Vaughn made a futile attempt to cover another spot on her Rickenbacker 8 Bingo card."

"That's a heck of a challenge, considering a couple of gay guys live on this floor!" Jocelyn declared.

"You do realize that the equipment will usually work with proper stimulation even without sexual attraction, right?" Lee asked.

"You know, I never thought about it," Jocelyn replied. "Sorry."

"No need to apologize; you're straight, so why would you even think about it?"

"Mike, I have to ask," Pete said, "what is it about you that has women throwing themselves at you?"

"Tracy throws herself at EVERY guy!" Sandy laughed. "You had to tell her 'no'!"

"Or so you assume!" he teased.

"I know you better than that!"

"How did I miss this?" Gene asked.

"I don't think she's worked her way down to Freshmen just yet!" Dona said, laughing. "Did you know she lives only a few miles from me back home, but we never knew each other? I knew her older sister, though. She's studying to be a nurse in Cincinnati. Supposedly, Tracy graduated a year early."

The phone rang, and I got up to answer it.

"Subdeacon? It's Father Stephen."

"Father, bless!"

"The Lord bless you, Subdeacon. I'm calling about Angie."

"Did something happen?" I asked apprehensively.

"She's at Clermont County Hospital because she had a breakdown late last night. I'm at the hospital, and Doctor Mercer asked me to call you while she's with Angie. They sedated Angie last night, and they'll need to restart the drugs this morning. I wrote down what Doctor Mercer said: first, they're going to try Haldol, and if that doesn't work, then they'll try one of the atypical antipsychotics. She said she'll call you when she has a chance."

"Thanks, Father."

"Pray for Angie, Mike."

"I will. Thanks for calling me."

"You're welcome."

We said 'goodbye' and hung up.

"Angie?" Clarissa asked.

"That was her pastor. She had a breakdown last night, and she's in the hospital."

"Oh, Mike, I'm sorry."

There were murmurs of agreement from all the others.

"I pretty much expected something like this," I sighed, sitting back down between Jocelyn and Clarissa.

"Are you OK, Mik?" Jocelyn asked.

"Yeah, I suppose. But however I feel, it's not nearly as bad as it is for Angie. I'm afraid she'll lose her job and have to drop out of school. And if that happens, they'll likely have to up the dose of her anti-depressants, which is what will turn her into a zombie, in addition to the side effects of the antipsychotics, which can be pretty bad."

"There's no cure?" Gene asked.

I shook my head, "Not that anyone knows of. At best, it can be managed. And that's in maybe twenty percent of cases."

"What can we do for you, Mike?" Kimiko asked.

I shook my head again, "Nothing, really. Well, be my friends, which you're already doing."

"Sorry, but what am I missing?" Gene asked.

"You came late to the party," Clarissa said. "Mike and Angie were a very serious couple. And before Mike objects, I know Angie always had problems, but she was doing her best to actually BE 'Mrs. Loucks', which is the name the dorm had for her. She converted to Orthodoxy so she could be even closer to Mike. She had a couple of breakdowns, and he stuck by her, but ultimately, it had to end because of her condition."