Chapter 5 — Because I Love You _March 5, 1990, McKinley, Ohio_ {psc} "I'm honestly surprised," Fran Mercer said on Monday evening after I explained why I had called her. "If you're surprised, then I'm concerned," I replied. "Why?" "Because it tells me you still have a misconception about my views on what happened." "Given how often you read me off, don't you think I have reason to be at least mildly surprised that you'd consider it?" "I suppose that's reasonable, though you should also consider what drives my actions." "Angie's wellbeing is primary over just about everything except your family." "And because she asked, what was my only possible course of action?" "Oh, stop!" Fran said, laughing. "You're using the rhetorical tricks your mom used on you!" "Guilty as charged. I only have one question for you, Fran. Can you commit unequivocally to treating Angie holistically? That is body, mind, and soul? And spare me the reflexive 'ethical concerns'." "You do acknowledge that they are real, right?" "If you were trying to convert her or convince her to give up her faith, I'd have you before the licensing review board so fast your head would spin. But that is not what I'm talking about, and you know it! You and I talked about these issues years ago, and you seemed willing to discuss them with me." "You weren't a patient, Mike. Even if we called a few of those sessions 'counseling', it was more akin to coaching than what the practitioners would call behavioral counseling. Everything I did with you could be done by a layman, except that first evaluation." "Fair enough," I replied. "But given how integral Angie's faith is to her wellbeing, it can't be ignored or even minimized. I have a thought of how we might proceed." "What's that?" "In the same way the hospital uses cross-discipline teams to treat patients with complex or unknown maladies, we should do that with Angie. A monthly meeting, which could be by conference call for convenience, with you, Father Stephen, Angie's GP, her Aikido instructor, and, if appropriate, Leslie Hoffman. You all discuss Angie's case, share what you know, and agree on a unified treatment plan that minimizes the use of pharmaceuticals." "I'm sure you're aware that Doctor Hoffman has an approach closer to yours," Fran said. "Yes. It's one of the reasons Marjorie and Ken named her in the petition to move Angie away from the now-disgraced Doctor Greenberg. What do you think of the idea?" "I think it's a good one, though I'm not sure how easy it will be to coordinate everyone." "I'll speak to everyone and get them on board, then turn it over to you. I need to stay away from that group so I can be Angie's friend; I'm absolutely not her doctor." "But are you going to second guess us at every turn?" "No. That was the point of what I just said. The only person with whom I'll communicate about Angie regularly is Marjorie Stephens. Well, and Angie, of course. So long as Marjorie is happy, I'll be happy." "Can you really stay hands-off?" "Can you really treat Angie holistically?" "One of those is more difficult than the other," Fran said. "I know. You have the much harder challenge!" Fran laughed, "You know that's not what I meant!" "Yes, but I actually meant what I said. Given our disagreements in the past, it's a reasonable question and a legitimate concern. Remember, I am not proposing any specific course of treatment, only that the treatment deals with Angie as a complete person — body, mind, and soul. It's only in that synergy that we are who we are — our authentic selves." "And you think all the others will buy in?" "I do. Father Stephen and Angie's Aikido instructor will agree immediately. I can't imagine any GP worth his salt who wouldn't agree simply based on continuity of care. My interactions with Leslie Hoffman tell me she'll agree. That leaves you. Are you going to reject Angie's plea for help based on a flawed view of humanity?" "More 'black or white' thinking?" "No," I countered. "Infinite shades of grey. It's you who are engaging in 'black or white' thinking when it comes to dealing with matters of faith. You know what the literature says about regular church attendance and schizophrenia, even if it's anecdotal. Anecdotal, it may be, but it helps Angie. So, please tell me a better plan for _this_ patient." "You are, as you promised you would be, a forceful advocate for your patients or, in this case, your friend." "Does that mean you accept?" I asked. "On a trial basis, yes, assuming the others agree." "I'll accept that, given we're attempting something different. That said, it does echo what we were doing before with Father Stephen. I'll get in touch with him and contact Angie's Aikido instructor. Once they're on board, I'll speak to her GP and Leslie Hoffman." "Do your supervising physicians find you as difficult as I do?" "More, I suspect," I chuckled. "You don't have to deal with me twelve to fifteen hours a day, five or six days a week!" "You take perverse pleasure in being a pain in the butt, don't you?" "I may take pleasure in the fact that Doctor Gibbs regularly calls me a pain in the ass and, in fact, upgraded me to 'royal pain in the ass' back in November." "How are your reviews?" "All very positive, though I have been spoken to about being confrontational." "Shocking," Fran said lightly. "I'll let you go. Get in touch when you've spoken to the others." "I will." We said 'goodbye', I hung up, then returned to the great room to spend time with Kris and Rachel before bed. A short time later, we said our family prayers, and I put Rachel to bed. "How did it go with Doctor Mercer?" Kris asked when I joined her on the couch after Rachel's bedtime routine. "She's willing to give it a try, which is probably the most I can expect at this point. I have to be very careful not to try to treat Angie but simply manage the process. It's a fine line, but I think I can walk it." "Is there any chance at all that Angie will recover?" "There have been sporadic reports of what I would call long-term remission for women in their forties or fifties, but that's almost always those with late-onset. As far as I'm aware, there are no verifiable reports of women who exhibit symptoms as teenagers entering long-term remission. Of course, I'm not an expert, and I don't read the literature because I simply don't have the time. To be honest, I also don't have the training or experience to understand the literature. I'd be in the same boat with an oncology journal." "I always had this conception of doctors as knowing more than they actually do." "Me, too. I struggled with the concept, but now, five years after my first Preceptorship rotation, I understand what they were trying to tell me. But enough about medicine! What can I do for you?' "Put on some soft music and cuddle before bed." "That I can absolutely do!" _March 6, 1990, McKinley, Ohio_ "How did things go with your call with Doctor Mercer?" Clarissa asked at lunch on Tuesday. "OK. It took some arm twisting, but I think things will work out. This morning, I called both Father Stephen and Jonas Blane, Angie's Aikido instructor, and both agreed to participate in what I'm calling Angie's treatment team meetings. Marjorie is contacting Angie's GP. Once he agrees, then I'll speak to Leslie Hoffman. I'll work through Marjorie Stephens to ensure they're making progress, and consult with Father Stephen if they seem to be veering off course." "Creating the 'wall of separation' you need so it doesn't appear you're treating her." "Exactly. I'm acting as her friend, doing my best to ensure her medical team works with her spiritual advisor and her physical trainer, though Aikido has a spiritual component, similar to Shōtōkan karate." "You're doing a good thing, Petrovich. I know how much you love her and how upset you were at what happened." "If I believed in specific answered prayer, the one prayer I would make would be for Angie to recover enough to live a normal life, even if she was never able to marry and have kids." "I'm going to ask this as only Lissa could — not for Elizaveta not to die?" "I'm talking here and now, Lissa. I didn't ask for Angie to never have been afflicted with schizophrenia. I mean, at that point, the entire universe is upended. Maybe the multiverse does exist, and there are realities where Angie is healthy, and Elizaveta doesn't die, but if those things changed, what else would change? And would I _ever_ ask for anything that took Rachel from me?" "Never, despite her being in full toddler mode!" I couldn't help but laugh, "Alternating between 'Love Papa!' and 'No!' from minute to minute!" "The first said in French, of course, thanks to your sister-in-law!" "Yeah, yeah," I chuckled. "She has a boyfriend now, so she's torturing HIM instead, I'm sure!" "And yet, she's still teaching Rachel to speak French!" "She has less time, so that's a good thing!" I grinned. "How is the ED?" "Non-stop excitement! Exactly what I _didn't_ sign up for! I don't know how you adrenaline junkies do it!" "Always looking for the next hit to maintain the high!" I chuckled. "I will be SO happy when June 1st rolls around! You can have it! I'll go back to actually spending time with patients and having more than a few seconds to think. You were made for emergency medicine; I wasn't." "Just hang in there, Lissa. There's a light at the end of the tunnel." "And I swear it's an oncoming train!" We finished our lunch and Clarissa returned to the ED while I went upstairs to supervise my students prepping the afternoon surgical case. I had just completed that when I was paged by the duty nurse for an ER consult. As was the usual practice, I left Erin to escort the patient to the OR while Todd accompanied me to the ED. We took the stairs, and walked down the corridor and into Trauma 1. "Hi, Ghost. What do you have?" "MVA with major chest involvement; classic flail chest with multiple internal injuries. He needs a central line and a chest tube." "Cutdown tray to me!" I ordered. Kellie brought me the tray and assisted me while I put in the central line and chest tube. "500cc in the Thora-Seal," I observed. "He's going to need surgery. Todd, call upstairs and let them know we need a chest cutter in about ten minutes." Ghost ordered two units on the rapid infuser, and a minute later, the patient's blood pressure improved. Once he was stabilized, Naveen Varma, Todd, Ghost's student Janelle, and I escorted the patient up to OR 3. "Scrub in, Mike!" Nelson Burke instructed. "Your students, too. How bad?" "MVA; flail chest; 800ccs total in the Thora-Seal; BP is 90/60; tachy at 110; right tib-fib compression fracture; assorted lacerations and contusions." "Stood on the brakes?" "That would be my guess." We all moved to the scrub room to prepare for surgery. "You'll be the second surgeon," Doctor Burke said. "Blake will be about thirty minutes, and this guy can't wait. Can I count on you to ligate or Bovie?" "I've only used the electrocautery device once, but I can use it under your direction. I haven't ligated during surgery, but I have practiced; again, I can do it under your direction." "OK. For the Bovie, I'll point, you shoot. For ligation, I'll give express instructions. Your students will hold retractors, and Abby will suction." We were, at best, a makeshift surgical team, but with Shelly missing and three other procedures underway, there wasn't much choice. Shelly would return in just over three weeks, and in two months, we'd have our new complement of Residents. That would help a bit, but it wouldn't be until we moved to the new surgical wing in three years that we'd be able to handle six simultaneous procedures. We were already delaying non-emergency surgeries, and the problem would get worse before it got better. Fortunately, while the patient was badly injured, he wasn't bleeding out quickly, which allowed Nelson to provide specific directions and advice as I completed the tasks as he directed. The surgery went well, the internal bleeding was stopped, and when it was done, my students and I escorted the patient to recovery. I checked his vitals, then left Erin to sit with him and went to the lounge to speak to Nelson. "Appraisal?" I asked. "You know your knots, but you need serious practice with the Bovie. It'll come, but if we'd needed to move fast, neither skill is up to snuff. That's not a criticism, mind you, simply an acknowledgment that you're a PGY1, and those are PGY3 skills. You're skilled with the scalpel to the point where Dennis Nagle noted that you were the most skilled he'd seen in his twelve years teaching anatomy and recommended you be a surgeon." "I wasn't aware." "You had your mind made up. I know Owen spoke to you and tried to bring you to the Dark Side. We're very happy you found a way to split the difference and pushed us to do something we probably would have delayed doing for several years. And then the events of a few weeks ago forced us to accelerate your training. It's working because you understand your limitations. That's important as you move forward, too. Each success will make you more confident, and that's what leads to overconfidence." "Shelly and Loretta have made that point, as has Carl Strong. And, of course, Clarissa Saunders never misses a chance to knock me down a peg or two!" "All of us have that friend who does their best to try to keep us grounded. That's especially important for surgeons." "What?!" I faux-whined with a smirk. "We're not gods? They told me I'd be a god!" Doctor Burke laughed, "That is our reputation. The important thing is not to let that convince you that you can do more than you're ready to do. I believe John spoke to you in detail about that following the crike." I nodded, "He did." "With Shelly and Loretta laid up, who are you talking to?" "Doctor Saunders and Ghost, along with a clinical psychologist I've worked with for years. And my wife, of course." "That's the outside psychologist Owen referred you to for your psych eval following the incident?" "Yes. I first met her about eight years ago as a Freshman, and we've had a few ups and downs. Coming back to Shelly and Loretta, I actually spoke to them almost every day. I'm having lunch with Shelly on Thursdays this month, and I visit Loretta on Sundays at the rehab center in Columbus." "OK. Keep doing that, and keep up the good work, Mike. Just remember you still have a lot to learn." "Thank you, and I will remember." I left his office and went to check on the patient in recovery, then went to the lounge to wait for my next consult. _March 8, 1990, McKinley, Ohio_ "What did Psych have to say?" I asked Shelly when we met on Thursday at a new diner which had opened across the street from the hospital. "The usual BS. They cleared me but felt I was pretending to be OK." "That was my concern if they were to have evaluated me, especially given my history with them. I'm actually not surprised, given you supported me against Lawson." "They tried to ask about you, but I refused to comment at all and directed them to Doctor Cutter." "That also doesn't surprise me," I said. "They have it in for surgery and the ED, and me specifically." "You know Lawson is a wannabe surgeon who couldn't Match, but I found more — his girlfriend at the time, who was lower ranked, Matched her first choice — surgery at UCLA. He tried to Scramble to something in LA but ended up in Grand Rapids. And as you know, they wouldn't hire him as an Attending." "And we did?" "Another datapoint — his uncle was good friends with the Psych Chief at the time and pulled strings to get him hired." "Wonderful." "Oh, it gets better. Her uncle is Mark Edwards." "The former Chairman of the Board of Directors of the hospital," I observed. And Erin Edwards' dad. He was no longer Chairman, having taken a similar role at a private-sector, for-profit hospital in Columbus. "That explains a few things," I said. "Between you and me, and not to be repeated, his daughter was relentless in trying to entice me to cheat on Elizaveta." "How did you meet her?" "The first time was when she was in the ED after being struck in the head by a golf club. That was in the Fall of First Year. I ran into her again when I was on my OB/GYN Preceptorship. After that, she sought me out on several occasions." "And you honored your vows, of course, not to mention valuing your life, given what I've heard about Elizaveta." "She was a feisty one, that's for sure. I let her know what had happened because they were classmates." "Ever been tempted?" Shelly asked. "Not the way you mean, but I freely acknowledge that Kellie Martin would be at the top of my list if I were single." Shelly pouted, "Not me?" "I want to ask _you_ a question — is that how you want me to think about you in the locker room?" "Touché. Has Ellie Green backed off?" "Yes. She'll hint occasionally that she's still interested, but it's tame." "And that High School Senior who all but begged you to screw in her hospital bed?" Shelly asked with a smirk. "You were there and saw how I handled it! And she was careful to not push things too far." "Right, because saying surgery was the only way she'd get you inside her wasn't pushing things too far in any way!" I chuckled, "Tone of voice. Did she mean it? Sure. Was she being obnoxious? No. She understood I was OK with a bit of teasing, but I'm positive she also knew it wasn't going to happen. If it was, the _last_ thing I would have done was explain wearing my wedding ring on my _right_ hand." "True." "How are things with your guy?" "Moving along," Shelly replied. "I figure a Fall wedding next year, but neither of us is in a hurry. It's not like the piece of paper is a permission slip or anything!" I chuckled, "I know a few fathers who would strongly disagree and insist that it is the _only_ permission slip!" Shelly rolled her eyes, "My dad was like that. And you know my response!" I chuckled, "The same one quite a few young women I know chose, including my mom!" "Who told you? Your dad?" "No, my mom. The really funny part is she was positive her dad didn't know, but it's clear from things he's said that he was aware she was, to put it in 1950s terms, 'running around'." "I think my dad went for the 'plausible deniability' approach." "That sounds like the dad of a girl I dated for a few years in college. There is no way he didn't know, but he never said anything. Well, that's not quite true — his other daughter got pregnant at sixteen, and she accused her older sister of having sex with me to try to limit the fallout. Of course, at that point, the girl and I hadn't started fooling around, so we could deny it." "I suspect your history in High School and college would be interesting to hear!" I chuckled, "Not High School. I didn't become a 'loose man' until after graduation!" Shelly laughed softly, "Nice way to turn that around from the usual stupid idea that guys are studs and girls are sluts." "You, of all people here, should know I don't go for double standards for anything." "May I say I'll enjoy watching you about ten years from now?" Shelly asked with a sly smile. "Miss Rachel is already asserting herself and has her biological mom's fiery personality! Not that Kris isn't equally fiery." "Of which there is ample evidence, given she's due in three months!" "Whatever! How are you feeling?" "Good. I'm back to my regular exercise routine, albeit using significantly less resistance and less weight on the machines. I'm working my way back, but it'll be a few months." "So other than about four inches of small bowel and one lobe of your liver, no internal problems?" "None. Thank God it missed my uterus. I only want one, but I do want one." "Fortunately, John and Owen are both enlightened enough that they won't interfere with your career beyond missing eight to twelve weeks." "Speaking of that, how much trouble have you gotten into while I've been out?" "I performed an appendectomy." "As a PGY1?!" Shelly asked. "I am seriously jealous!" "I also assisted with a trauma surgery and used the Bovie and ligated. Fortunately, the patient was stable enough for Nelson Burke to talk me through things." "All the PGY2s and PGY3s were tied up?" "Yes. It's been busy, and missing a qualified surgeon doesn't help." "Not yet," she replied. "Still a PGY5." "And yet, you're permitted to perform procedures with minimal supervision. I'm certainly not and won't be for some time. Well, except the procedures in the ED, but even those are always supervised by an Attending." "That's more about liability than anything," Shelly said. "You're obviously qualified to perform those procedures." "Nelson did warn me about crossing lines, the same as Owen did after the crike." "You've exercised good judgment, which is why you're allowed to do those things. I'm positive you won't intentionally get in over your head, but I also know you'll call for help the moment you need it." "That worked so well with OB!" I said sarcastically. "Hey, you have the distinction of delivering a healthy baby in the ED! That's a rarity!" "And one I'd have very much preferred to NOT have done! That said, it all turned out well, and the fact that the teenage girl's parents were supportive was a nice plus. If I never have to do that again, I'll be happy!" "So will legal! They do not need that kind of potential liability! If _anything_ had gone wrong, even if it wasn't our fault, the hospital would have been in deep sneakers!" "True. And the same was true for the crike, though given it was a fireman, the County was on the hook either way." "I'd have tried that as a med student if there was no other way to save his life," Shelly said. "Thankfully, I didn't have to. That said, I was first on the scene of an MVA when I was Fourth Year and provided what was euphemistically called 'First Aid' to the victims. That violated the rules, but everyone looked the other way for obvious reasons." "Did they all make it?" "Yes. The paramedics showed up about five minutes after I started working on the patients with a pair of First Aid kits and the minimal things I had in my medical bag. I helped them until they transported the patients. And, like you with the crike, I reported my own behavior." "Confession is good for the soul _and_ the medical license!" "As they say, it's much easier to ask forgiveness than permission. That's how you handled the delivery." I nodded, "Once it was clear OB was going to blow me off, I had no choice but to order my student to commandeer the necessary equipment. Fortunately, the Attendings fought that little war." "Territorialism is a major problem. You saw it with the battle over to whom the trauma surgeons would report." "I prefer the red scrubs!" "Me, too!" "Sorry to cut this short, but I need to get back to supervising my toddlers prepping a bowel resection." "YOU were a toddler less than a year ago!" "I grew up! Allegedly." "Allegedly!" Shelly confirmed with a smile. We hugged lightly, I paid for our lunches, and then I headed across the street to the hospital. Everything went smoothly, and at 3:00pm, I walked to the medical building next door for Kris' prenatal checkup. Doctor Forsberg pronounced everything was fine and provided an ultrasound image for us. When the exam was finished, Kris headed home, and I returned to the hospital to complete my shift. _March 10, 1990, McKinley, Ohio_ "Are you going to wear your earmuffs?" I asked Rachel as I unbuckled her from her car seat. She screwed up her face and glared at me, looking for all the world like Elizaveta when she had been unhappy with me. "I don't want to!" she declared. "But will you do it?" She glared at me, then grudgingly said, "Yes." "Thank you," I said. Rachel insisted on walking, so I slung my balalaika across my back and carried my guitar case in my left hand. I held Rachel's left hand with my right, and Kris carried our sheet music as we walked into the humanities building and made our way to the music room. "Morning, Mike!" José called out when we walked in. "Hi, Kris! Hi, Rachel!" We all greeted him, along with the other members of the band. "Mike," Kari said, "this is Doug Cromwell from the Hayes County Public Defender's Office; Doug, Doctor Mike Loucks, a trauma surgeon." We shook hands and greeted each other. "Call me Mike, please," I said. "Or, if you _have_ to use my title, Doctor Mike." "Mike it is," he said. Practice went well, though I was out of practice playing with the group, but I was positive I'd be fine by the time we had to play the first Prom gig. "I figure we won't try any new songs until after the Proms," Kim said as we packed up our equipment. "I figure we can use June to learn a pair of new songs for the Fourth." "What are you thinking?" I asked. "_Every Rose Has Its Thorn_, _Once Bitten, Twice Shy_, _Welcome to the Jungle_, or _Make Me Lose Control_. Any preferences? You're the one who sings lead." "If it's up to me, then I'd choose Poison and Guns N' Roses." "OK. We'll do those. I'll solicit input from everyone after the Fourth to expand our repertoire. We won't have time before the club gig to learn them, though, but we could for the music festival." "How many songs are on that setlist?" Sticks asked. "Six. Basically a thirty-minute set. Six leaves us time for an encore." "Is there any way to find out what other groups are singing?" José asked. "It would be better not to overlap." "I'll call Johnny and ask," I offered. "I'll also make sure we can substitute after we turn in our list so we can avoid duplication." "Great!" Kim declared. "See you guys next weekend!" Kris, Rachel, and I left the music room and returned to my Mustang. Once everyone was buckled in, we headed to Kroger for our weekly shopping trip. Great Lent was in full swing, but we had a seriously relaxed fasting rule, given Kris was in her sixth month. That meant fish was always allowed, and chicken occasionally, along with dairy, though we were careful what we served when our Orthodox friends joined us for meals. "Lara doesn't follow the fast strictly, right?" Kris asked as we shopped. "Correct. She and Nathan simply abstain from red meat, so having chicken tomorrow won't be a concern. Clarissa, Tessa, Jocelyn, and Gene will eat anything we put before them." "Papa?" Rachel inquired from the seat in the cart. "Yes?" "Sketti?" "I think we can have spaghetti tonight if Mama is OK with that." "Yes, of course!" Kris agreed. "We can make chicken Parmesan on a bed of spaghetti noodles." "Let's get a French loaf so I can make garlic bread as well," I suggested. "At the bakery, not here, right?" Kris asked. "Yes." We bought the necessary ingredients, along with the other things on our list, then stopped at the baker for fresh bread. At home, we had lunch, and when Rachel went down for her nap, Kris and I went to lie in bed so she could nap as well. That evening, after dinner, we went to Saint Michael for Vespers, then had a quiet evening at home. _March 11, 1990, Columbus, Ohio_ "How are you doing, Misha?" Vladyka JOHN asked as we sat in his office at the Cathedral on Sunday following the Divine Liturgy. "I'm OK." "I will repeat that I thank God each day for protecting you. How are your friends?" "Doctor Lindsay will return to work in about three weeks. Doctor Gibbs is making slow progress. We'll stop in to see her after we leave here today, but when I spoke to her on the phone on Friday, she said she has feeling in both legs and can move all her toes. That indicates she should be able to walk, though she might need leg braces or a cane. Nobody can say for sure at the moment." "Good. And your interior life?" "I confess every two to three weeks, receive the Eucharist every Sunday, and pray consistently." "Have you spoken to Father Roman?" "I did call him the day after the incident, and I'll see him the weekend of April 6th. All three of us are going to the monastery." "And you've continued to speak to your secular counselor?" "Yes. On that, I'm working with her complete caregiving team to coördinate her care." "Father Stephen called to let me know. You're doing a good thing, Misha. When is your next trip to the prison?" "Two weeks from today. Protodeacon Ivan will be there to serve the Typika, which I'm sure you know." "You'll act as his acolyte, yes?" "Yes." "You have my blessing to wear your purple _sticharion_, though obviously not your _orar_ or any other indicia of clerical office." "Thank you, Vladyka. I had planned to simply wear my cassock, but I will wear the _sticharion_." "On that matter, do you have any idea what Kris might think about our discussion a few years ago?" "I think she would object, at least with regard to the canons. She was ROCOR, as you know." Bishop JOHN laughed, "They do tend to insist on «akriveia» in all things! On that, Metropolitan PHILIP of the Antiochian Archdiocese granted permission for a widowed priest, Father Joseph Allen, to marry without being laicized." "I bet that went over well." "There was, shall we say, a small rebellion amongst some of the clergy, especially the priests in the AOEM." The AEOM was the new name for the Evangelical Orthodox Church, which had been brought into the Antiochian Archdiocese by Metropolitan PHILIP. "I take it that did not lead to reversing the decision." "It did not. The reports I've received say that the laity accepted it and most supported it." "Interesting." "We'll discuss it again in a year or two," Vladyka JOHN said. "I did suggest to Father Nicholas that you teach Sunday School once a month, and I believe your new schedule would permit that." "It would. I do want to say that I'm not sure Kris will see things differently, even with what you just told me about the Antiochian priest." "Let's worry about that in the future. Will you teach Sunday School once a month?" "Yes, Vladyka," I replied. "Good. How is Kris doing with her pregnancy?" "Just fine. She had her checkup on Thursday, and Doctor Forsberg was happy." "Did you ask the sex?" "No, but I'm reasonably certain from looking at the ultrasound image. I didn't say anything to Kris, so I shouldn't say anything to you." The image had suggested strongly that we'd have a baby girl, but ultrasound images could be deceiving. In reading them, being certain the baby was a boy was possible, but unless the baby was in exactly the right posture, at six months, you could not say unequivocally the baby was a girl. "Wise, Misha!" Vladyka JOHN said with a twinkle in his eye. "Have you chosen names?" "Charlotte Michelle and John Michael," I replied. "Will you allow me the privilege of baptizing your son or daughter?" "Of course, Vladyka! Kris will want to stick with the usual practice of forty days, though she won't stay away from church." "Good. I strongly discourage that practice, though I know it's important for some of the faithful. It's similar to the old taboos of receiving the Eucharist at that time of the month, something else I discourage, but there are women who abstain during that time." "Right up there with some of the older couples covering the icons in their bedrooms when they have sex. That said, that one I could actually defend theologically." "Go on…" Bishop JOHN said with a smile. "Well, given the icons manifest the true presence of the saint or of Christ, it would be, in their minds, the equivalent of having sex in front of spectators. That said, that manifestation is a mystery, and in my mind, it doesn't make the icon work like a _Nineteen Eighty-Four_ viewscreen. That would be the potential error in their thinking, but I don't want to go down the path of trying to explain the mysteries. That's like the edges of ancient maps having the warning, 'Here be there dragons'!" "Quite so! The error of the Scholastics was trying to conceive that which is ineffable, inconceivable, and incomprehensible." We prayed together, then I left his office. I found Kris and Rachel with her family, and after a brief conversation, Kris, Rachel, and I left so we could visit Loretta at the rehabilitation clinic. "Have I mentioned how much I hate my physical therapist?" she groused after greeting us. "You were quite clear when I spoke to you the other day! And you know what? Tough it out! We need you at the hospital, and Bobby and Bobby Junior both need you. It may suck now, but it'll be worth it." "You sound like a damned doctor!" Loretta complained. "I _am_ a doctor," I chuckled. "But I'm also your friend, and I said that as a friend. I'll leave treating you to far braver men and women!" "I bet you'd make a terrible patient," Loretta said. "I think you'd win that bet! Still have those numb areas?" "Yes, both buttocks and the arch of my left foot." "And the motor coordination?" "So-so. I'm only allowed to use the rails, and I have braces on both legs, but I can mostly make my knees work the way they're supposed to." "That's good progress." We spent about twenty-five minutes with her, including Rachel climbing into bed with Loretta to hug her. Bobby and Bobby Junior arrived just as we were ready to leave. I shook hands with him, he reminded us about the Tuesday dinner at the firehouse, and we left. Rachel fell asleep in her car seat on the way home, which gave me a chance to let Kris know about my discussion with Bishop JOHN. "Vladyka broached the subject of ordination," I said. "He mentioned a widowed Antiochian priest who was permitted to remarry and retain his clerical office." "Outrageous!" Kris exclaimed. "Which is exactly what I would expect you to say. Vladyka said there was a bit of a clergy rebellion, though it died out quickly. The laity accepted it and, according to His Grace, largely supported it." "Are you saying you've changed your mind on that topic?" Kris asked. "Not at all! We agreed no secrets so I simply reported the conversation. He did ask me to teach Sunday School once a month and suggested we discuss ordination in the future. I made the point that you would likely object, and that didn't deter him." "You're going to make me the 'bad guy', as you Americans call it." "Again, «ma chérie», YOU are an American! You even have the papers to prove it! And it is not going to make you the 'bad guy'. It simply helps preserve my close relationship with His Grace. If you _insist_, I'll tell him 'no', but I'd prefer to wait and have him ask you. There will be no hard feelings and no animosity, and I'd very much appreciate if you would consider doing it my way." "Because I love you," Kris said. "I love you, too!" "Enough to tell me what you saw on the ultrasound?" Kris asked lightly. I chuckled, "I'm not an expert!" "No, but I suspect you know." "Actually, to be honest, I can't say positively, which is why I said nothing. At six months, unless you see a penis, you can't say unequivocally one way or the other. Our baby was resting in a position where it _appears_ there is no penis, but it can be tricky to say for certain. The strong odds are that you have Charlotte Michelle in your womb." "Are you happy?" "Absolutely! And you can be sure the Tsarina will approve right up until Charlotte wants Papa's attention!" "It's going to be what is called in America, 'an adventure'." "That it is!" I agreed. "That it is."