Good Medicine - Medical School I
Copyright © 2015-2023 Penguintopia Productions
Chapter 54: The Bush Family
Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 54: The Bush Family - In a very short time, Mike Loucks has gone through two life-changing endings, with both leading to great beginnings. Graduating from WHTU as his school's Valedictorian, he ended his bachelorhood and engaged in the Dance of Isaiah ahead of his upcoming ordination as an Orthodox Deacon. Mike is about to enjoy his final summer off, including a long honeymoon in Europe. On the horizon though is the challenge Mike has wanted to tackle since he was a 4th grader: His first day of Medical School
Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/ft First Clergy
October 25, 1985, McKinley, Ohio
Before Elizaveta and I left for Anicka's house, I called Emmy to see if she could get me Holly's phone number.
"Did you try 'Information'?" she asked.
I laughed, "Uh, no. Let me try that. If I don't call back, it means I got the number."
We said 'goodbye' and hung up, and then I dialed 555-1212.
"Information operator. What city, please?"
"Rutherford, Ohio. A Miss Holly Vogel."
"I have a 'Vogel, H.', on Maple."
"That's the one."
The operator read out the number, I thanked her, then hung up. I checked with Elizaveta, then dialed the number. Holly answered.
"This is Mike," I said. "May I please speak with my dad?"
"He's not here right now," Holly replied.
"OK. Please ask him to call me. I'll be home tomorrow afternoon before Vespers, and then Sunday after church."
"I'll tell him."
"Thanks."
We said 'goodbye', and I hung up.
"He wasn't there?" Elizaveta asked.
"No. Well, Holly said he wasn't, and I would hope, no matter how embarrassed he's feeling, that he'd remember I love him."
"Have you changed your opinion about whether you think he did it?"
I shook my head, "Honestly, I can't bring myself to believe it. I mean, sure, it's possible, but my gut tells me that Mrs. Vogel is wrong."
"Lying?"
"I'm not prepared to say what her motivations are, or why she thinks it started three years ago."
Or make any judgments on my sister's suggestion that my dad had slept with Becky. My dad had used the nickname 'Becks' before Becky and I had been together, but she'd passed that off as a nickname her friends had used back in Michigan. In addition, our first night together actually raised questions in my mind, though I felt I had sufficient evidence to refute those questions. The question arose because she had acted very experienced, but there was one piece of evidence which overrode everything else — there had been blood on the rubber from her torn hymen.
Of course, that only proved that she'd been a virgin when we'd had intercourse, not that she hadn't done other things, nor anything about what might have happened afterwards. And despite the questions Liz had raised, I still felt it wasn't something that had happened. Of course, I could be completely mistaken, but I didn't think so. And that led me right back to why I didn't believe my dad had been with Holly before she'd turned sixteen. Before she turned eighteen? Sure, that was possible, but it also wasn't illegal. And I strongly suspected that's what the Sheriff would turn up.
Of course, that all depended on Holly telling the truth, which I hoped she would.
"So now what?" Elizaveta asked, interrupting my thoughts.
I shrugged, "Now we go to dinner with our friends and enjoy ourselves."
"What if your dad goes to prison?"
"I'll still love him, and I'll visit him. But let's pray that it doesn't come to that."
We left home and, fifteen minutes later, walked in the door of Anicka's house. Sophia, Robby, and Lee had arranged for pizza and Chinese, and it was delivered a few minutes after we arrived.
"Mike," Sophia said, "this is Theresa, a freshman pre-med student. Theresa, Mike Loucks."
"Nice to meet you," I said. "This is my wife, Elizaveta."
"Hi," Theresa said.
"She's joined our study group," Sophia said. "There's another guy, TJ, around here somewhere who's part of the group as well."
"Cool," I replied. "Did you receive your MCAT scores?"
"95% percentile. The boys and I are talking about Stanford, which would be good for their research and for medical school."
"Wow! What happened to OSU?"
"It'll be on our list, but we're going to all try for Stanford. You and Clarissa could easily have gone there, or Harvard or Yale."
"Yes, but I want to practice here, and I think training here is important."
"And Clarissa was going wherever Mike was going," Elizaveta said.
"What's your major?" Theresa asked.
Elizaveta laughed softly, "I'm a Junior in High School."
"Whoa!" Theresa gasped. "You're sixteen or seventeen?"
"Sixteen. We married in May because the bishop wanted to ordain Mike in July."
"Ordained? So you're a priest?"
"I'm a deacon," I replied. "And I see Sophia hasn't shared much beyond that I'm in med school!"
"What church?"
"Saint Michael the Archangel Orthodox Church."
"So, like Catholic?"
"No, but there are similarities. Where are you from?"
"Erlanger, Kentucky."
"Mike!" Milena called out.
"Excuse me, please," I requested.
"Sure."
Elizaveta and I moved across the room to where Milena and Joel were standing.
"Can you sing tonight?" Milena asked.
"I'm fine, thanks," I smirked. "How are you?"
Milena laughed and rolled her eyes, "Still a goofball. So, can you sing?"
"Yes."
"Cool. After we eat, OK?"
"That's fine. Did you ask José?"
"He and Dona had something going on tonight with her parents."
"Bummer. OK. I'll see him tomorrow morning at band practice. We're going to grab some food. Just let me know when it's time to sing."
Elizaveta and I went to the dining room and helped ourselves to shrimp and vegetable stir fry, then went to sit with Robby, Lee, and Sophia.
"So, California?" I asked after I gave the blessing for Elizaveta's and my meal.
"The San Francisco Bay Area is a great place to live," Robby said. "And, let's be honest, there is no comparison in culture or nightlife!"
"And it's a bit more conducive to our worldview, if you get my meaning," Lee added.
"Oh, I do," I sighed. "The sister of the ringleader is a medical student. She objected to treating a patient with AIDS."
"AIDS?" Kimiko asked as she and Brandon sat down with us.
"You might have heard it called GRID, or the 'gay disease' in the press. AIDS is 'Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome', and it affects more than just homosexuals. It's also commonly found in IV-drug users, hemophiliacs, and Haitians. That last one is the odd one because the other three all are about passing the virus via bodily fluids or needles tainted by bodily fluids. Our epidemiology class covered it last week, and there really isn't a lot of material in anything other than research journals right now. And there are no treatments."
"The gay community knows about it," Robby said. "But given how people treat us, it's not a priority."
"There are even people saying it's God's curse on gays," Lee added tartly.
"Hogwash," I replied. "I'd use a stronger term, but I can't while I'm wearing my cassock. Is the church still sending people on Saturdays?"
"Oh yeah," Lee replied. "And on Thursdays to the Vespers service."
"We haven't been there in a few weeks because we've been busy," I replied. "I didn't ask Mark and Alyssa or Father about that, but I'm not surprised."
"We just avoid them," Robby said.
"I'd like to stay as far away from them as possible," I replied. "Brandon, how are your plans for Japan?"
"Everything is arranged. We'll be moving about a week after graduation, so in about eighteen months. With help from her father, Kimiko was admitted into a Master's program, despite being a Junior, and I have my teaching gig lined up. You guys should come to visit sometime!"
"Keep in touch, and we'll consider it in about seven years," I replied. "Though a lot will depend on how things work out with regards to kids."
"When do you think you'll have them, Elizaveta?" Kimiko asked.
"We hope to have the first one the Summer after I graduate. After that, well, we haven't really talked about how many or how long between."
"And how is school going, Mike?"
"We're all likely to attain honors for all of our classes," I replied. "But the amount of studying is insane. I just finished up my first observation in the ER and that was fun. Next Tuesday, I observe at a pediatric practice which I hear is going to be boring."
We continued talking about school, both mine and the others, while we ate. When we finished eating Milena called everyone to the music room, though some people overflowed into the great room. She, I, and Elizaveta sang, and at Milena's request, I played Lara's Theme on Doctor Blahnik's balalaika. When we finished singing, we hung out with our friends for a few hours, then headed home.
October 26, 1985, McKinley, Ohio
Band practice went well on Saturday, and on the way home, Elizaveta and I did our grocery shopping for the week. We had lunch with her parents, and then my study group gathered. We'd been at it for about ninety minutes when the phone rang. Elizaveta answered it, then called me to the bedroom.
"Your dad," she said quietly, handing me the phone with her hand over the mouthpiece.
"Hi, Dad," I said.
"Hi, Mike. I'm guessing you heard."
"I did."
"It's not true. Holly told the Sheriff's Department investigator that today. It started after her eighteenth birthday."
"I'd hoped that was true," I replied.
"But you thought it might not be?"
"At this point, I'm considering possibilities I'd never have dreamed of in the past. I was reasonably sure that you hadn't done what you were accused of doing, but I also know it might have happened. I'm glad it didn't. What does that mean for work?"
"I'll be reinstated once the investigation is finished next week."
"And no repercussions? Well, beyond whatever trouble you'll have with Mrs. Vogel."
"I'm sure some people will be upset with me, but it's not grounds for termination, if that's what you're asking."
"That did concern me. How are you otherwise?"
"Fine. I don't know if your mom told you or not, but the divorce will be final on the 8th. That's the day we close on selling the house."
"She told me on Thursday evening when I had dinner at Grandpa's house. Speaking of that, how is Grandpa Loucks?"
"Your grandmother says he's doing OK, but he won't speak to me."
Which was par for the course, and was how my dad had learned that behavior. I decided to call my grandfather, though I didn't think telling my dad that served any real purpose at this point.
"Will we see you at the concert?" I asked.
"If you still want me to come."
"I do. No matter what happens, you're my dad, and I still love you."
"I appreciate that, Mike."
I was sure that was true, but I wondered if he saw the parallels in how I treated Liz and Paul. But asking that question would only reopen wounds which, while not healed, weren't bleeding profusely.
"See you on the 9th. Would you and Holly have dinner with us before Vespers?"
"I'll check with her and let you know."
We said 'goodbye', and I hung up.
"So it's not true?" Elizaveta asked quietly.
"It would appear not. Dad says that Holly told the investigators it started after she turned eighteen."
"So he gets his job back?"
"That's what he said. You heard me invite him to have dinner with us after the concert."
"Here?"
"I was thinking a restaurant, but I'll leave it up to you. I need to get back to my study group."
"And I need a kiss!" she demanded petulantly.
"One. More than that, and I'll never get back to my study group!"
"I think you still owe me kisses from before we were betrothed!"
"I thought our honeymoon covered that!" I protested.
"It didn't!" Elizaveta said firmly.
"I don't have time right now, Kitten!"
"Then you'll just have to study faster!"
I laughed, kissed her, and opened the door to leave the room.
"That doesn't even cover the interest!" she declared, giggling.
"Later!" I said firmly.
She stuck her tongue out at me, and I just shook my head and returned to my study group. Later, when we finished studying, I paid back the kisses and accumulated interest, though quite a few of the kisses were directed to my sixteen-year-old wife's nether lips.
October 29, 1985, McKinley, Ohio
I arrived at McKinley Pediatrics fifteen minutes early, which my assignment sheet had instructed, and met Caroline and Tina, the other medical students, who walked in just after I did. The three of us went to the reception desk and introduced ourselves.
"Doctor Newsome will be out in a moment," the receptionist said. "Mr. Loucks, what are you wearing?"
"The required clerical garb for my role at church," I replied.
"The practice requires a medical coat and tie for men, and skirts or dresses for women."
"Do you have that in writing?" I asked. "My bishop will require something official."
"It's in our policy handbook, which you'll receive in a few minutes."
"May I use a restroom? I have a tie with me, and I'm wearing an appropriate shirt and slacks underneath my cassock."
"To your left, there," she replied, indicating.
"Thanks."
I went into the restroom, removed my medical coat, then my cassock, took my tie from the pocket of my medical coat, quickly tied it, put my coat on, and went back to the receptionist's desk.
"Is there a coat closet?" I asked.
"To your right, and then please go through the door just to the right of the coat closet. The small consultation room is on the right. That's where Doctor Newsome will speak to you."
"Thanks."
I hung up my cassock, then went through the door and into the room where the other two students were with a doctor who appeared to be in his late fifties or early sixties.
"I apologize," I said.
"You were wearing some kind of clerical robes?"
I nodded, "As required by my bishop when I'm in public. But I have his blessing to dress in whatever way you deem appropriate. That's why I had my tie with me, and a sports coat in my car, if I need it."
He nodded, "Thank you. Have a seat."
I sat down next to Caroline and listened to Doctor Newsome describe the practice and how they expected us to comport ourselves — basically sit quietly, observe, take notes, and ask questions after the exam or treatment was concluded. He reminded us about patient privacy and then asked if any of us had any symptoms of cold, influenza, or any other disease. None of us did, so he handed us each a small booklet with the practice policies and asked us to read it. He left and returned about ten minutes later.
"Tina, you're with Doctor Gephardt, Caroline with Doctor Schwartz, Mike with Doctor Bush. I'll take you to them now."
Suddenly, I was filled with dread that 'Doctor Bush' was James and Melissa Bush's father. If that were the case, the next eight weeks were going to be a nightmare. I didn't want to make a scene, and if I was wrong, it would be for naught, so I simply nodded, as did the girls. We followed Doctor Newsome and found Doctors Gephardt and Schwartz, and then things went from bad to worse — Doctor Bush was the same man who had blocked my car in the street back in December.
"Doctor Bush, Mike Loucks, your medical student," Doctor Newsome said.
"We've met," Doctor Bush said, giving me an evil look.
"You know each other?" Doctor Newsome asked.
"After a fashion," Doctor Bush said. "Thanks, Fred."
Doctor Newsome turned and left, and I faced Doctor Bush.
"Good afternoon," I said.
"Don't bother," he replied flatly, then turned to walk down the hall.
In my mind, the only thing I could do was try to survive the afternoon, then discuss it with Doctor Warren or Doctor Mertens in the morning. I followed Doctor Bush to a treatment room, where he knocked, and we went in.
"Good afternoon, Mrs. Bailey," Doctor Bush said. "This is a medical student who is here to observe. It's your right to ask him to leave if you don't want him in the room while I do David's exam."
"It's fine," Mrs. Bailey said.
The look on Doctor Bush's face told me he had wanted her to object, as had the way he'd phrased his statement. But, given she'd said I could stay, I moved to the corner furthest from the exam table and took my notebook and mechanical pencil from the pocket of my lab coat. The exam proceeded as I would have expected, with nothing remarkable said or discovered. I did note that Doctor Bush had not washed his hands in front of the patient, something which had been drilled into us in our Practice of Medicine course, but which I knew from my psych class at Taft was something many doctors didn't do.
We left the room and Doctor Bush didn't say a word to me. Fortunately, for the rest of the afternoon, every patient's parent agreed I could stay in the room. At the end of the day, when there were no remaining patients, I asked permission to leave and was dismissed with a wave of his hand which seemed as if he was shooing me away. He hadn't even looked up, so I simply turned and left. I went to the waiting room, took off my tie, put on my cassock, and walked out the door. I made my way to the car and headed home, where Elizaveta and I had dinner and then I called Vladyka ARKADY.
"If that's their policy, then follow it, Mischa, and don't complain about it to anyone. I would not want to interfere with your education or training. You put your cassock on when you left, correct?"
"Yes, Vladyka, I did."
"Good. Then there is nothing to worry about. My rule was clear that you could wear surgical garb or whatever else was required by medical or safety needs. And this qualifies. I'm happy that you called to check."
"After my error in judgment, I felt it was appropriate."
"And I trust you not to make the same error again! Now, I'm sure you have studied, so I'll see you in three weeks."
"See you then."
We said 'goodbye', and I hung up just as the study group members began arriving.
I asked Clarissa to step into the kitchen so I could have a word with her in private.
"You aren't going to believe this," I said, "but the pediatrician I'm assigned to is James Bush's dad."
"Holy shit, Petrovich!"
"I know. He was, well, curt is the only polite word I can use. He didn't say a word to me except to tell me not to bother when I said 'good afternoon'. When I asked to be dismissed at the end of the day, he just put up his hand and shooed me away with his fingers."
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