Good Medicine Senior YearChapter 56 Holy Week and Pascha Part I
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Good Medicine - Senior YearChapter 21: A Pair Of Interviews free porn video
September 13, 1984, McKinley, Ohio
On Thursday morning, Clarissa, Sandy, and I ate breakfast early, then returned to the dorm to dress for our interviews at McKinley Medical School. We met in the lounge, then took the elevator down to the lobby and walked to my car. We got in and ten minutes later we were walking into the main building of the medical school. We found the appropriate elevator and went up to the sixth floor where the interviews would be held, where we were greeted by a trio of current medical students named Gene, Clara, and Leslie. They checked us in, handed us each our interview schedule.
Our interviews were broken up into several parts - a panel interview, a review of the application packet, a psychological assessment, and a physical. Gene took me to my first interview, while Clara and Leslie took Clarissa and Sandy for their physicals. He led me down a hallway to a door, opened the door, and we walked into the room.
“Good morning, Michael,” a middle-aged man in a white lab coat said after I was introduced by Gene.
“Good morning,” I replied, scanning the room quickly seeing four other white-coated individuals - three men and one woman.
“Please have a seat,” he said, pointing to a chair which faced a long table where the five doctors sat.
I sat down in the chair and took a drink of water from a glass on a table next to the chair.
“We’ll have each of the panel members introduce themselves, and then we’ll begin the questions.”
“OK,” I agreed.
“I’m Doctor Albertson, Oncology,” the female doctor said.
“Doctor Robinson, Internal Medicine.”
“Doctor Crane, Internal Medicine.”
“Doctor Bernard, Trauma.”
“And I’m Doctor Warren, Dean of the Medical School,” the first man who’d spoken said.
“Good morning, Doctors Albertson, Robinson, Crane, Bernard, and Warren,” I said. “Thank you for inviting me to interview.”
“You’re welcome,” Doctor Warren said. “First, would you please tell us about yourself?”
I gave a short autobiography, starting with the incident in fourth grade which had led to my desire to be a doctor, and finished with my time at Taft. I made sure to include my jobs, playing chess, serving as RA, and my participation at church, as Doctor Evgeni had coached me.
“Very good,” Doctor Warren said. “I’m curious about your decision in fourth grade. Have you ever consider any other career?”
I shook my head, “No, Doctor Warren, I haven’t. From that day forward I was absolutely sure I wanted to be a doctor, and it didn’t take long to decide I wanted to work in trauma.”
“All from that playground incident?” Doctor Albertson said.
“Yes.”
“What would you do if you failed to get into medical school?” Doctor Crane asked.
“I haven’t spent much time thinking about that, but I suspect I’d return for a Master’s Degree and try again in a year or two.”
“Besides that incident in fourth grade,” Doctor Bernard asked, “have you encountered other medical emergencies?”
“Yes. Two specific incidents since I became RA - one near-asphyxiation from inhaling nitrous oxide and one case of ketoacidosis.”
I knew those names because I’d reviewed them with Doctor Evgeni and he’d told me the actual diagnosis.
“And how did you respond in those cases?”
“For the first one, I ensured the young woman was breathing and had a pulse, indicating that CPR was unnecessary, and then I ensured an ambulance was called. Her friend had told me they were doing what’s called ‘Whippets’ so I knew that so long as she was breathing and her heart was beating, there wasn’t much I could do besides get a trained professional to check her out.”
“And the other case?”
“I wasn’t sure what the problem was right away, so I made sure she was breathing and her heart was beating, then put pillows under her feet to ensure blood flow to her brain, then covered her and had an ambulance called. I smelled her breath and remembered something from High School health class and asked her roommate if she was diabetic. It turned out she was, and she’d been drinking and not eating properly.”
“How would you say your emotions were at the time?”
“I was calm and simply did what I had to do to help them, given my training is limited to First Aid and CPR.”
“How long have you held your CPR card?”
“Since eighth grade.”
“Why do you want to be a doctor, Michael?” Doctor Albertson asked. “I mean beyond the incident in fourth grade.”
“Honestly? I believe I’m called to be a physician, and I feel it’s the purpose of my life.”
“Not to help your fellow man?” she asked.
“Isn’t that what being a physician is about?” I asked. “It’s implied in the calling, and it is certainly in the Hippocratic Oath - ‘I will use treatment to help the sick according to my ability and judgment, but never with a view to injury and wrong-doing‘.”
“So then it’s about you?” she asked.
“Doesn’t it have to start there?” I asked. “If I’m not fully committed, and I mean one-hundred-percent committed, to being a doctor, am I going to be of any use to anyone? If I’m not willing to dedicate my life to medicine, I probably shouldn’t be in medical school, let alone work in an emergency room.”
“That’s your desired specialty?”
“Yes.”
“How do you relieve stress?” Doctor Crane asked.
I wanted to say ‘screwing’ because that had certainly worked with both Sandy and Sophia, but I knew that answer would land me in all kinds of hot water.
“I run every morning, listen to music, play my guitar, and go to church. Until recently I was regularly practicing karate and achieved the rank of brown belt. When something had to give, that’s what was eliminated. Recently, I started playing golf with the father of a friend, but that’s not very relaxing just yet.”
Three of the doctors laughed and nodded, which I felt was a good sign.
“Tell us about your study habits,” Doctor Bernard requested.
“Starting the first week of Freshman year, some new friends and I began a study group. It’s become more focused each year, and now it’s mainly pre-med students with a couple of biochemistry majors who are going to do research. Each year we add some younger students to our group to guide and mentor them. We also provide tutoring for other students on our dorm floor, which comprises basically a self-selected bunch of nerds.”
“How many hours do you currently study?”
“It varies, depending on what classes we’re taking, but four hours a night is the norm. If we have lab reports to do, then we usually take more time to work on those.”
“You’re enrolled in honors science courses?” Doctor Crane asked.
“Yes, starting with Spring semester of my Freshman year.”
“Does anyone who knows you well think you shouldn’t be a physician?” Doctor Albertson asked.
“Right after I graduated High School, several friends told me I was way too uptight, way too serious, and way too introverted to make a good doctor. I’ve spent the last three years trying to loosen up, learn to joke and have fun, and be less inwardly focused, while maintaining my grades.”
“Have you been successful?”
“I think so. I have a good set of friends, unlike in High School where I basically hung out with the same two people for all four years.”
“Are those new friends like you or not like you?”
This was a question that Doctor Hart had prepped me for, and despite my discomfort with what I would have to say, he encouraged me to make the points.
“Some are like me, but my best friend is a lesbian and my best guy friends at Taft are a homosexual couple. I also have close Black, Hispanic, and Japanese friends.”
The answer made me cringe, but it appeared to satisfy Doctor Albertson.
“You mentioned church,” Doctor Robinson said, “how involved are you there?”
“Very. I’m a Subdeacon in the Russian Orthodox Church. Basically, my role is to assist the priest during the services and teach Sunday School.”
“Is there anything about your faith which would interfere with being a physician?” Doctor Albertson asked.
I shook my head, “No.”
“Abortion?”
“I intend to do my OB/GYN clerkship and sub-internship at a Roman Catholic hospital as a visiting student. I want to learn the procedures, but I’m personally opposed to elective abortions.”
“And medically indicated ones?”
“I would be doing my patents a grave disservice to refuse any effective and necessary treatment. I would never place my religious beliefs ahead of a patient’s life or health. That’s why I want to learn the procedures.”
“Have you traveled?” Doctor Warren asked.
I shook my head, “Not really. My friends and I are going to Europe once we graduate. We’re going to backpack and train around Europe for five weeks. That will basically be our one and only vacation for the next seven years.”
“Why McKinley Medical School?” Doctor Crane asked.
“Because this is my home, and I want to serve my local community. I like it here, and see no reason to leave.”
“Your MCAT scores are very, very good.”
“This community deserves the best medical care possible.”
“You intend to do your Residency at University Hospital?”
“That would be my preference, yes, though I understand how the Match works.”
“You don’t think training elsewhere might broaden your skillset?”
“Are you saying that University Hospital is not a good teaching hospital?” I asked.
Doctor Crane laughed, “No, I’m not! And your point is well made.”
“Do you have any questions for us?” Doctor Warren asked.
“What’s the number one reason for not being accepted here?”
“I’m assuming you don’t mean poor grades or a poor MCAT, which makes the answer, of necessity, a poor interview.”
“And what constitutes a poor interview?”
“Assuming there are no psychological impediments, it’s failing to articulate your goals and clearly state why we should accept you. Do you believe you’ve done that?”
“I believe my application, my references, and my answers here today have demonstrated that I am a very good candidate and I believe, no, I know, I will make an excellent physician.”
“Thank you, Michael. If you step outside, Gene will get you something to drink and show you the restroom, and you can move to the next interview session.”
“Thank you, Doctor Warren; thank you Doctors Albertson, Robinson, Crane, and Bernard.”
I got up and left the room, and as Doctor Warren had said, Gene got me a drink, pointed me to the restroom, the led me to the next session room, though the door was still closed. We sat down to wait and about ten minutes later, Clarissa came out. She smiled and I smiled back and then went into the room.
“Hi, Michael, I’m Doctor Bennet. Please have a seat.”
“Good morning, Doctor Bennet,” I said and then sat down in the chair opposite him across the table.
“Michael we’re going to review your application, and I’m going to verify basically every single thing about your life.”
“Suddenly, I’m glad I had a fairly boring existence up until now!”
He laughed, “This isn’t a CIA or FBI background check, but we do need to go over your application and ensure it’s accurate, and make sure nothing important has been left out, and that what has been stated is true.”
“Same comment,” I grinned.
“Then let’s start at the beginning. Full legal name?”
“Michael Peter Loucks.”
“Do you go by any other names?”
“Mikhail Petrovich Loucks, which is a Russian variation,” I replied. “Plus Mike and various other forms of Mikhail in Russian.”
“Do you use those in any way other than in speech?”
“No. In writing, it’s always my formal given name in English.”
“Parents’ Names?”
“My dad is Peter William Loucks. My mom was born Rahil Mikhailovna Borodina, but goes by Rachel Michelle Loucks. Her legal name is the Russian one, though she took my dad’s last name when they married.”
“Birthday?”
“February 2, 1963.”
“Birthplace?”
“Harding County Regional Hospital in Rutherford, Ohio.”
“Siblings?”
“Elizabeth Petra Loucks. She’s called Liz or Lizzy.”
“Where did you go to grade school?”
“I went to school in the Harding County School district from kindergarten through High School. All the buildings are on the same campus.”
“Extracurricular activities?”
“Chess club at school, choir and acolyte at church, and karate. I recently began playing guitar.”
The interview continued, covering my work, my college applications, and my time at Taft. It was all pretty straight forward until a question caused me to stop short. I wondered if there was any way they knew about what had happened with Family Services and Doctor Orosco. I had to assume that everything had been removed from the files, because any other option would result in the same disastrous consequences.
“Any interactions with any law enforcement of any kind?”
“I’ve never had so much as a speeding ticket. I have spoken to Harding County Sheriff’s Deputies and McKinley Police Detectives and Officers when they were investigating things in which I wasn’t involved except as either a witness or when they were questioning people in general. I also spoke to a pair of Air Force investigators who were looking for a friend who had a falling out with her dad, who’s a Colonel.”
“What happened there?”
“Nothing, really. They found her living with a friend and working in a law office.”
“OK. Any parking tickets?”
I shook my head, “No.”
“Ever use any kind of illegal drug, or take any legal drug in a way that wasn’t prescribed?”
“No.”
“Do you drink?”
“Rarely. If I do, it’s one glass of wine or a splash of liquor. My intention is to largely abstain from alcohol for the rest of my life.”
“Unpaid bills?”
“No. I have no debt, and my only regular bill besides those related to education is the insurance on my Mustang.”
“No student loans?”
“No. Between grants, money I’ve earned, money gifted to me, the RA stipend, and what my parents are able to contribute, I’ve paid for my undergraduate degree in full.”
“How do you intend to pay for medical school?”
“The same sources of income, as well as loans to cover the rest.”
“Be sure you speak to the financial aid office after you finish your last session.”
“I will, thanks.”
“Do you file and pay your taxes in full and on time?”
“Yes.”
“You registered for Selective Service when you turned eighteen?”
“Yes.”
“Have you ever cheated on any test, engaged in plagiarism, or aided anyone in doing either of those things?”
“No.”
“Have you lied to me, or is anything on any of your application materials inaccurate or meant to deceive?”
“No.”
“OK. Thank you very much, Michael. Gene will take you for your physical.”
“Thank you, Doctor Bennet.”
I left the room and after using the restroom, followed Gene to an exam room where a doctor and nurse were waiting.
“I’m Doctor Greene, and this is Nurse Lathrop,” the doctor said. “We’re going to do a complete physical, including blood work and a urine test. We’ll need you to sign the consent form, as well as a consent form so we can get your immunization records from your family physician.”
I signed the forms and stripped down to my underwear and put on one of those silly gowns which was open in the back. The exam was similar to my usual annual exam, though there were multiple tubes of blood taken, as well as a chest x-ray. The only questions which were asked which I’d never been asked by my family doctor was about whether I’d ever had any kind of sexually transmitted disease or engaged in ‘risky’ sexual behavior, which, when I asked, they euphemistically referred to homosexual activity.
When I was finished, the final session was an interview with a psychologist which reminded me very much of my talks with Doctor Mercer, and which I actually enjoyed. The last part of the interview was taking what was called a Myers-Briggs Type Indicator. The test was scored immediately and I was told I was ‘INTJ’, and given a document to describe that personality type.
As I went out into the hallway, I scanned the document and started laughing. One of the traits was ‘Personal relationships, particularly romantic ones, can be the INTJ’s Achilles heel’. Truer words had NEVER been spoken about me. Another one stood out - ‘they are most comfortable working alone and tend to be less sociable than other types,’ something which had been true until the past year or so.
Another trait which I had experienced directly was that ‘INTJs were prepared to lead if no one else was up to the task, or if they felt there was some major weakness in the current leadership’. That was absolutely the case with the dorm issue. Other traits included being pragmatic and logical, which I felt applied, though the one that said an INTJ often rejected authority based on tradition or rank. Though as I thought about it, that was true for everything EXCEPT church.
I nodded at the last statement in the list - ‘They tend to be insightful and mentally quick; however, this mental quickness may not always be outwardly apparent to others because they keep a great deal to themselves. They are very determined people who trust their vision of the possibilities, regardless of what others think.’ That described me pretty well, and I was impressed that answering a bunch of ‘either/or’ questions could generate such accurate results.
Gene led me to a small lounge so I could wait for Clarissa and Sandy, who both appeared about five minutes later. Once they arrived, Gene, Clara, and Leslie took us to the Financial Aid office where we filled out short questionnaires and were given thick financial aid packets. From there, we were given a tour of the medical school, and finally, ate lunch with the students who were all in their third year. We didn’t learn much new in talking to them, and they were quite clear about how difficult medical school was, which was no surprise to us.
When we finished lunch, we thanked our guides and then the three of us left the medical school building via the elevators, and walked to my car. Only when we were safely in the car on the way back to campus, did we start talking about our interviews.
“How’d it go?” Clarissa asked.
“Good,” I replied. “The only time I felt uncomfortable was during the review of my application when they asked about interaction with law enforcement.”
“All of that stuff was removed or deleted!” Clarissa protested.
“Yes, it was, but I could just see Dean Parker trying to cause trouble by leaking information. None of it would pan out, but it WOULD cause a question.”
“You don’t think she did that, do you?”
I shrugged, “I doubt it, because she’d end up paying for my medical school, and the university might even be on the hook because she obtained that material illegally while working for them.”
“That would be sweet revenge!” Sandy said.
“I don’t go for revenge,” I replied. “But it would be poetic justice. Well, once all the manure was cleaned from the walls after flying through a fan! How did you guys do?”
“No problem for me,” Sandy said. “That psych test was interesting, though.”
“No issues,” Clarissa said. “I took one of those tests in High School. My results were a bit different back then. Now I’m an INFJ.”
“ESFJ,” Sandy said.
“INTJ,” I replied.
“According to the psychologist,” Sandy said, “ESFJ is the most common personality type for pediatrics.”
“Shoot,” I said. “I should have asked about that. It’s interesting that only Sandy is an extrovert.”
“I’m not exactly extroverted!” Sandy laughed.
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