Chapter 78: Confession Is Good for the Soul

February 6, 1988, Columbus, Ohio

“I see Serbian women are the same as Russian women!” I declared with a grin.

“You’re mistaken!” Dani countered. “Russian women are pussycats compared to Serbian women!”

“I don’t think you’re doing a good marketing job,” I teased.

Dani’s eyes twinkled, and she smiled, “Serbian women are also far more passionate!”

I wondered about the best way to respond to what was, from everything I’d seen so far, a risqué comment. I had to be careful, but I didn’t think I could ignore what she’d said.

“That’s a bold claim,” I replied with a smile.

“There is only one way to find out, though there are several steps to get there.”

“And that’s what you want?” I asked.

“My grandmother and your grandmother believe we’re a good match.”

“I’m well aware,” I replied. “But that wasn’t what I asked.”

“You expect an answer when you won’t ask the question before a year has passed?”

“That’s also not what I asked!” I said with a goofy smile.

“But you ... oh!” she said, laughing. “That is the obvious result of a crowning ceremony! And yes, I am attracted to you.”

“And I’m attracted to you. The other question, well, as we discussed, I’m not ready to ask of anyone.”

We got into my car, and I followed Dani’s directions to the coffee shop. We were seated in a booth with high backs, giving us significant privacy, and we both ordered apple pie and coffee.

“What’s your vision for the future?” I asked once the waitress had poured our coffee.

“You mean for us?” Dani asked.

“Yes.”

“Assuming you ask, we’d have a marriage here at the Cathedral, then I’d move to your house, and we’d begin working on a little brother or sister for Rachel while I take care of her, you, and the house. Then a second child, at least, and after that, we decide if we have more children or I begin working on an education degree. You’ll continue your training, of course, and we’ll have to deal with that. I have a question about that.”

“What?”

“Would it be possible to make you meals and eat with you at the hospital?”

“Yes, with the caveat that I won’t have any control over when traumas arrive, so it might be that we’d be interrupted or that I couldn’t join you. But mostly, I suspect it would just require a bit of flexible timing. And I like your proposed solution; it’s something I hadn’t considered.”

The waitress brought our pie and after I said the blessing and we began eating.

“What will you be doing in the Fall?” Dani asked.

“I start a surgical Sub-Internship in August; a pathology Sub-Internship in October; and a cardiology Sub-Internship in December.”

“Not the Emergency Room?”

“That will be this June, and again next April. I’ll also have a Sub-Internship in the Intensive Care Unit.”

“And then you’ll be a doctor officially, right?”

“There’s a test to pass, but I don’t believe it will be a problem.”

“OK. Back to us, when can I meet your parents?”

“First, you need to know that they’re divorced, and both have remarried, and my dad and his wife aren’t attending church. I’ll speak to my mom this week and see what I can arrange, most likely at my grandfather’s house in Rutherford. That would allow us to stop in and see my dad. As I think about it, next month is probably better, but I won’t know my schedule for another ten days. Is it OK to wait until then to try to arrange it?”

“Yes, of course! We have plenty of time. Where do you plan to worship during Great Lent?”

“At Saint Michael, and it will depend on my shift schedule. Once I have it, we can figure out when we can see each other. It’s possible we’ll have serious difficulties seeing each other at times.”

“I can always take a day off to visit if necessary.”

“Is there anything that gives you pause?” I asked.

“It will be odd to become a wife and mother at the same time, but I understood that would be the case from the beginning. What about you?”

“Just my own emotional state,” I replied. “And, as I’ve said, until September, things could change.”

“I know you aren’t committing to anything now, but you’re willing to take the necessary steps to ensure it’s a good match, and that’s fine.”

We finished our pie, I drove Dani to her parents’ house, then drove the short distance to her grandparents’ house, which was just under a mile away.

February 7, 1988, McKinley, Ohio

Rachel and I arrived home after having had lunch with Dani following the Divine Liturgy at the Cathedral. Rachel was sleeping, so I carefully carried her into the house and put her in her crib, then changed clothes. I built a fire, put on some water for tea, and sat down to wait for Tasha to arrive, which she did as planned.

“I left Larisa with my mom,” Tasha said after we greeted each other.

“Rachel is sleeping,” I said. “I have tea, and I’ve built a fire in the fireplace.”

We went into the kitchen, I poured tea into two mugs, and then Tasha and I went to sit on the couch in the great room.

“Before you say anything,” I said, “I want to apologize for speaking harshly to you; not for what I said, but how I said it.”

“I forgive you, Mishka. And I want to say that I’m very sorry for going to Father Nicholas because I was frustrated with you.”

“I forgive you, Tasha.”

“You always refused to discuss my relationship with Nik, but I hope you will now.”

“I’m sure you understand why I couldn’t do that — our marriages, my ordination, and our history. All of that has changed, though our history can’t change, of course. I’m willing to discuss things with you.”

“You won’t like what you hear,” she said quietly.

“And yet, no matter what you say to me, I’ll still love you, Tasha.”

“So you’ll hear my confession, then?” Tasha asked.

“Confession is good for the soul, but you know I can’t give you absolution. You need to go to Father Alexi.”

“I know, but I’m going to give you details he doesn’t need to know, but which I need to say.”

I nodded, “I’ll trust your judgment.”

“You know you were the first man I ever even kissed, and sex with you was even more exciting than I had fantasized. When it ended, I resolved to wait until I married, just as you and Elizaveta waited. But I missed it too much, and I met a man named...”

“No names, please Tasha,” I said, interrupting her.

“Sorry. I met a man at the pharmacy who flirted with me, and who invited me to have a drink with him. I did, and we ended up in his bed. It was OK, but nothing like it was with you. I felt terrible after that, and didn’t go out with him again, though he asked me out a few more times.”

“Was that before you started talking to Nik?”

“I’m embarrassed to say it was after I first spoke to Nik, but before he asked me to marry him. You know I felt obligated to tell Nik just as you did Elizaveta, though I didn’t name you, or say anything about the other man. It was obvious to me that Nik had no experience, but by our wedding night, I was so horny that I wanted to do everything with him, all night. He was scandalized and refused. We had sex once, and that was it.

“That was true for every night of our honeymoon, then for a few weeks, until I missed my period. As soon as Nik knew I was pregnant, he was no longer interested in sex, and everything spiraled out of control at that point. I tried to work things out with him, but he blamed you for defiling me and teaching me to engage in ‘depraved behavior’.”

“I assume you mean the ‘everything’ part.”

“It was worse than that, Mishka! He wouldn’t put his mouth on me or let me use mine on him.”

“He considered oral sex to be depraved?” I asked.

“Yes.”

I shook my head, as I knew Orthodox monks who had the same exact sentiments, and even advised married couples to limit their sexual activity as much as possible. I felt that advice was a corruption of the blessings of marital relations, and also presented grave dangers, which Paul had expressed in his teaching that abstaining from sex had to be by mutual agreement and of short duration.

“Go on with the story,” I said.

“After Nik and I divorced, I was with two other men. The sex was enjoyable, but I felt regret after both, so I bought one of the personal massagers.”

“Which is the source of your comment about sex with yourself.”

“Yes! I want to approach Chris, but I feel dirty.”

“You know the solution, Tasha. Confession and absolution, after which you should have no further care for sins you’ve committed. May I ask something you don’t have to answer?”

“I’ll answer any question you ask.”

“Do you regret being with me?”

“No way!” she exclaimed. “We were glorious together! I wanted to do it and was very happy, even after we decided not to marry. But I loved being with you! Why do you think I wanted a sleepover? Do you regret being with me?”

“No,” I replied. “I did, for a short time after you married, because I thought that you having sex with me was the only source of the problems between you and Nik, but it wasn’t. Rather, it was a complete mismatch between your sexual expressions, and the fact that you hid your sexuality behind a prim and proper façade and misled Nik about it. The truth is, you were more sexually open as a virgin than I was despite having been with over a dozen girls before you.”

“You confessed that?”

“And another ten after you. Though I didn’t confess any specific details or a count.”

“Did Elizaveta know?”

“Eventually, yes. She was upset with me, but we worked through it. May I give you some advice?”

“Yes.”

“Do you like Chris?”

“I do.”

“Then go to confession and get to know Chris. Take things slowly with him, and if the time comes, you won’t have to explain your experience because he knows you were married.”

“I’m embarrassed to go to confession, Mishka,” Tasha said quietly.

“You confessed to being with me, right?” I asked.

“Yes, because I knew I would have to tell Nik, and that it might come up in our pre-marital counseling.”

“You don’t need to give details, Tasha. Simply say that you missed the mark with regard to sexual purity and that you regret it and have stopped. And remember, no matter what, God loves you.”

“What if Chris asks when I lost my virginity?”

“Your options are the truth, a lie, or demurral. I’d strongly advise against lying.”

“And if he asks about the rumors?”

“Remind him about the bishop’s homily and the letter His Grace wrote to each parish. If necessary, you can, truthfully and unequivocally, deny the rumors with regard to me.”

“What will you say if a girl asks you?”

“The truth. All of it. But I doubt any of them will ask because none of them believed any of the rumors.”

“May I ask who you’re seeing?”

“The young women I’m spending time with are Oksana Korolyov, Sara Wright, and Maryam Khouri, as well as Dani Dimitrijevic from the Cathedral.”

“I know all of them; talk about four very different girls! Do you have a favorite?”

“I’m going to ask you to do what I told Serafima to do, and that is to let me work through this. If I need advice, I’ll ask.”

Tasha nodded, “Are you OK, Mishka? Truly OK?”

“I miss Elizaveta fiercely, but I have to keep it together for Rachel, and I have to complete medical school and Residency. I don’t have a choice except to do those two things.”

“I hear you aren’t going to church. That concerns me, given how faithful you’ve been.”

“I’m going to the Cathedral on Sunday mornings until Cheesefare Sunday, when I’ll return to Saint Michael.”

“Is that because of me?”

“Partly. It’s also partly due to medical school, but there is so much that has happened over the past three years that you don’t know the half of it.”

“Do I need to speak to Father Nicholas?”

“No. I’ll take care of that. You need to speak to Father Alexi and arrange to confess.”

“Are you disappointed in me?” Tasha asked quietly.

“Not at all. I was tough with you because I love you and I care about you and wanted you to be honest with yourself. I’ve had my own struggles in that area.”

“When can we get the girls together?”

“In March,” I said. “I’ll have my new schedule in just over a week, and then we can figure out a day we can spend together.”

“I’m glad we could fix things,” Tasha said with a smile.

“Me, too.”

February 8, 1988, McKinley, Ohio

“Mike?” Doctor Forth said, coming into the lounge early on Monday morning. “Time to fly solo. Please go down to the ER for an assessment. Exam 2.”

“Yes, Doctor,” I replied.

I left the lounge and three minutes later walked into Exam 2 to see Doctor Gibbs, a Fourth Year I didn’t know, and Tami attending to a teenage girl.

“Hi, Doctor Gibbs,” I said.

“Hi, Mike. Janet, Tami, stay here please so I can have a word with Mike.”

We stepped into the corridor.

“What’s the concern?” I asked.

“Besides a Third Year doing an assessment?” Doctor Gibbs asked.

“A six-year-old could read the questions and mark the form,” I chuckled. “You know they have Fourth Years do this because they can deny being psychiatrists or even doctors, and patients are more comfortable! And you and I will consult on the results before I present them to Doctor Forth.”

Doctor Gibbs laughed, “No need to get defensive with me, but that’s a good speech you might need for someone else.”

“What’s up with your patient?”

“Seventeen-year-old girl who took an entire pack of birth control pills because she missed a period.”

“They didn’t cover that in pharmacology! What do you do?”

“Mostly treat any symptoms and wait for her system to metabolize the hormones and other ingredients. Some physicians will use activated charcoal, but she took them last night before bed. She felt really sick this morning, with cramping and spotting, so instead of driving to school, she drove here.”

“Any specific concerns that she was trying to harm herself?”

“No. And her pregnancy test was negative.”

“Let me run through the assessment with her.”

Doctor Gibbs nodded, and we went back into Exam 2.

“Leah, this is Mike,” Doctor Gibbs said. “He’s a medical student, and he’s going to ask you some questions, OK?”

“Sure,” Leah agreed.

“Tami, stay with Mike; Janet, come with me.”

Doctor Gibbs and Janet left, and I pulled the stool over to the treatment table and sat down.

“Would you tell me what happened?” I asked.

“Uhm, can I ask why a doctor isn’t doing this?”

“Because after nearly three years of medical school, they think I’m qualified to read questions from a form and write down the answers!” I declared. “And ‘Advanced Scribbling’ is a course you take in your last year of medical school, so my handwriting is still legible!”

She laughed, which was my goal, and I saw Tami smirk from the corner of my eye.

“You’re goofy!” Leah declared.

“You aren’t the first person to notice! So, would you tell me what happened?”

“I was supposed to get my period on Saturday, and I didn’t. Last night, I was totally freaked out and took an entire pack of birth control pills.”

“Why did you do that?” I asked.

“Because I thought it would, you know, end it.”

“That’s pretty unlikely,” I replied. “Did Doctor Gibbs tell you that your pregnancy test was negative?”

“Yes.”

“OK. Let’s start with some basics.”

I asked her full name, birthdate, year in school, and other basic information and it was all typical for a High School Junior who was a good student and not an athlete. I noted everything on the assessment form, then flipped it over to the list of questions for an ‘OD’ and realized they mostly didn’t apply in Leah’s case, because they were about a history of drug use. That meant I’d have to ‘wing it’.

“Are you sexually active?” I asked.

“That’s kind of necessary to think you’re pregnant!” she countered.

“Yes, it is,” I agreed. “But you’d be surprised at the number of young women who wouldn’t answer that truthfully, even in your case. How long have you been taking birth control pills?”

“Since just before my sixteenth birthday.”

“Were you sexually active at that time?”

“No, I got them because I was going to Homecoming and, well, you get the picture.”

“I do. How did you feel on Saturday?”

“You mean, like, did I feel sick?”

“No, I mean, how did you feel mentally or emotionally?”

“I didn’t think too much of it because I know a period can vary by a day or two, but I’ve been regular since I started taking birth control.”

“When did you start to worry?”

“Yesterday morning.”

“How did you feel then?”

“Nervous. It was last night that I freaked out.”

“What do you mean by ‘freaked out’?”

“I started crying because I didn’t know what to do. I absolutely didn’t want to be pregnant, and it scared me.”

“That’s when you took the pills?”

“Yes.”

“What else were you thinking?”

“That my dad would kill me!” Leah replied.

“As in, be really angry, or actually harm you?”

“Be really angry with me; he might actually kill my boyfriend.”

That was a major red flag, not for Leah’s mental health, but for her safety, and that of her boyfriend.

“You’re steady with your boyfriend?”

“Since Homecoming Sophomore year, yes.”

“How do you feel now?” I asked.

“Relieved.”

“And if you had been pregnant?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t think I could have a baby. I’m only seventeen and in High School.”

“When you took the pills, did you think anything would happen besides what you hoped?”

“You mean, like, would I get sick or whatever?”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t really think about it. I mean, they’re to stop you getting pregnant, so it’s not like they’re uppers or whatever.”

“That’s true, but they contain hormones and other ingredients, which in large doses can cause trouble with your metabolism, heart, and breathing. They can also result in blood clots or raise your blood pressure, which is why you need an annual medical exam by your physician or at the Free Clinic. Doctor Gibbs said you had cramps, which is what brought you here.”

“Yeah.”

“And what do you think about what you did?”

“It was foolish, and after talking to the doctor, I wouldn’t do it again.”

“That’s all the questions I have,” I said. “Let me speak to Doctor Gibbs. Tami will stay with you.”

I wrote my assessment on Leah’s chart and signed it, then left the exam room and went to the Attending office where Doctor Gibbs and Janet were waiting.

“Technically, an OD, but not an OD,” I said. “She’s a normal, well-adjusted teenager who did something foolish because she was scared. I don’t believe she needs further involvement from psych.”

“That was my assessment as well, but she did, as you say, technically OD, which requires a psych consult. Anything I need to know?”

“She did express a concern that her dad would have killed, and I mean literally killed, her boyfriend. I’d suggest a social worker speak to her, though her assessment pretty much matches what my little sister thought and my dad didn’t kill her boyfriend.”

Though very possibly only because I’d removed my firearm from the house.

“Does he own guns?”

“I didn’t ask, but this is Hayes County! YOU own a gun!”

Doctor Gibbs laughed, “True. Bobby likes to hunt, but I couldn’t shoot Bambi or Thumper. Targets are OK.”

“Venison and rabbit taste good!” I declared. “And you don’t think the cows, pigs, and chickens you eat die peacefully in their sleep, do you?”

“Get out of here before YOU need a trauma team!”

“I’ll present to Doctor Forth. I noted my findings on the chart.”

“Thanks, Mike. Janet, let’s go see Leah.”

The three of us left the office, and I headed back upstairs to report to Doctor Forth.

“What do you have?” Doctor Forth asked.

“Technically, an OD, but not really.”

“You’re going to have to explain.”

“She took an entire pack of birth control pills because she thought she might be pregnant. So, yes, she did technically overdose, but not really. The questions on the assessment form made no sense in this context, so I kind of just winged it. I did note the ‘first use of drug involved’ but none of the rest of the questions made sense.”

“Your assessment, then?”

“Scared seventeen-year-old girls do illogical things. She struck me as a perfectly adjusted High School Junior who had a pregnancy scare. She ‘freaked out’ in her words, and I’d assess that as normal. I sure would have freaked out if my girlfriend had been pregnant in High School.”