Sarah Carerra Chapter 30 The Finals Countdown
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Good Medicine - Senior YearChapter 63: The Final Countdown free porn video
May 13, 1985, McKinley, Ohio
The phone rang very early on Monday morning, startling me awake. A quick glance at the clock told me that it had to be Angie calling, and I dreaded answering the phone. Reluctantly, I got out of bed and moved across the room to answer it.
“Mike,” I said after I picked up the handset.
“Mike? It’s Mom.”
“Mom?” I gasped in surprise. “What’s wrong?”
“Grandpa Loucks had a heart attack,” she said. “Dad is on his way to Chicago.”
“How bad?” I asked.
“His prognosis is good, according to your Uncle Rob. Dad felt he had to go, and I agreed.”
“Obviously. Are you going up?”
“No. Your dad and I discussed that, and given what Rob said, your dad didn’t think it was necessary. Once your dad sees your grandfather and talks to the doctors, we’ll decide what to do.”
“OK,” I replied.
“You sound almost relieved,” Mom observed.
“Please don’t take this the wrong way, but given it’s just after 2:00am I was afraid it was Angie.”
“I can see why that would concern you.”
“I didn’t mean any disrespect to Grandpa.”
“I know that, Mike. I also know how much you care about Angie and how concerned you are for her. Have you heard anything?”
“No. I’ll see Doctor Mercer at the wedding, but everyone has advised me, at least for now, to let Angie’s parents, Father Stephen, and the doctors take care of her. It’s possible I’m the enemy now, if they didn’t take her off the drugs.”
“I can’t believe that!”
“It’s called ‘splitting’,” I replied. “People are either ‘good’ or ‘evil’ and are split into two distinct categories. Think about how Liz reacted four years ago and how she felt about basically everyone except Emmy, Mindy, and me. Either you were on her side or you were the enemy; there were no gray areas. Anyway, when did Dad leave?”
“About twenty minutes ago. It’ll take him about seven hours to get to Naperville.”
“I remember it taking less than six the time we went when Liz and I were little.”
“Before the federal government forced the speed limits down to 55MPH,” Mom said.
“Which has never really affected me because mostly I drive US Highways, not Interstates. Anyway, I hope you don’t mind if I go back to bed.”
“Not at all. I’ll call you when we know more.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
We said ‘goodbye’ and I hung up, distressed that my grandfather had suffered a heart attack, but relieved that it hadn’t been Angie who had called. I climbed back into bed, glanced at the clock to be sure the alarm was set, then closed my eyes and fell asleep. A few hours later, I was awakened by the alarm, put on my shorts, a t-shirt, and sneakers, and went out for my usual morning run in the crisp morning air.
I truly hoped my grandfather was OK, though I half-jested with myself that he’d found a way to avoid walking into an Orthodox church for the second time in his life - the first one being my parents’ wedding. He’d chosen not to come to either my baptism or Liz’s, and generally disapproved of my dad’s conversion to Orthodoxy. I shuddered at the thought of who I might have become had the situation been reversed and my mom had elected to convert to my dad’s fundamentalist evangelicalism.
The Orthodox Church defined so much of who I was that I actually couldn’t even imagine not being Orthodox. It was that complete immersion in the church which had led me to where I now was - about to marry Elizaveta and, in two months, be ordained a deacon. Neither of those were things which I had expected to occur when I’d mapped out my four years of college towards the end of my Senior year at Harding County High.
At that time, I’d been dating April, though I’d seen the cracks developing in the relationship because of church, but the idea of marriage, to anyone, was something I’d figured would be put off until after medical school. And while I was Head Acolyte at Holy Transfiguration, I hadn’t seriously considered the potential of being a subdeacon, let alone a deacon. And I most certainly hadn’t imagined the disastrous events of the Summer following graduation, nor that my closest friends would be a lesbian and two gay guys.
The other surprising thing was that I had gone from difficulty in getting dates to girls literally throwing themselves at me. That had been a complete surprise, and I hadn’t always handled it very well. I had run on the very edge of being completely out of control, but had managed to rein it in, with help from Lara, at what amounted to the ‘eleventh hour’ with regard to my upcoming ordination. Of course, that request from Lara had been after she and I had gone to bed together, and in anticipation of us potentially marrying. That hadn’t happened, but her request that I remain celibate had paved the way for my relationship with Elizaveta.
When I got back to the dorm, I showered, dressed, said my prayers, and then met Clarissa, Jocelyn, Gene, Robby, Lee, Sophia, Sandy, Pete, José, Dona, Fran, and Jason for breakfast.
“My mom called very early this morning,” I said as we walked towards the cafeteria. “My grandpa on my dad’s side had a heart attack last night. Mom said the prognosis is good, but we won’t really know anything until my dad gets there in about three hours.”
“Just your dad went?” Jocelyn asked.
“Yes. Because my Uncle Rob said the prognosis was good, Mom and Dad decided that just Dad would drive up to Naperville.”
“Where’s Naperville?” Sandy asked.
“Just west of Chicago.”
“Not to be morbid, but...”
“I have no idea. I’m hoping my Uncle Rob was accurate in what he told my dad and that it’s minor, at least as far as heart attacks go. He’s Dutch Calvinist and I doubt he’s ever had a sip of alcohol in his life, and I know he doesn’t smoke. If I remember right, he walks every morning and eats a healthy diet.”
“What DO Calvinists do for fun?” Gene asked.
I chuckled, “The Calvinist’s greatest fear is that somewhere, somehow, someone is having fun. The Calvinist’s mission in life is to put a stop to it immediately!”
Everyone laughed.
“That’s like the old joke about why Baptists don’t have sex standing up,” Sophia said. “They’re afraid it might lead to dancing!”
More laughter.
“Your grandfather is like that?” Robby asked.
“The Dutch one. No rock music, no card playing, nor any other thing which might be the tool of Satan. And that includes icons, incense, and vestments. And he has a healthy DISRESPECT for Mary, the Mother of God.”
“Aren’t you exaggerating a bit?” José asked.
“Well, if everyone for all of history, including Luther, thought Mary was a virgin for her entire life and you say she’s not, based on some radical ideas from the 16th century, I’d say that’s besmirching her reputation, wouldn’t you?”
“If you put any value on virginity it does!”
“Which they do,” I replied. “Just not HERS! Honestly, it’s an insult to her and to the Orthodox, Roman Catholics, Luther, Zwingli, and the Anglican Reformers! Calvin specifically cautioned against ‘impious speculation’, but I think ultimately he rejected the doctrine, at least based on his commentaries.”
“How do you know so much about that?” Gene asked.
“In order to become a catechist and teach Sunday School, I had to know the heterodox doctrines. I learned them from Father Herman at my former parish. I also took World Religions, so I have a good grounding in Islam, Buddhism, Hinduism, and the Greek, Roman, German, and Norse gods. And before you say that Jesus had brothers, the Greek word, at the time of the Septuagint, was used to mean brothers or cousins, which reflected Jewish usage. And Jesus undoubtedly spoke Aramaic which has no distinct word for ‘cousin’.
“Then there’s the more ancient view, to which we hold, that they were half-siblings from Joseph’s previous marriage. This is attested to in the Protoevangelium of James, which is not canonical, but which does provide some evidence of our earliest traditions. I’ll point out that the first claim that Mary had children after Jesus didn’t come until Helvidius in the 4th century. So yeah, a healthy DISRESPECT for Mary. It’s a topic which will cause steam to come from my grandfather’s ears, according to my mom.”
“Sorry,” Sandy interjected, “but what will you do?”
“With finals, my wedding, my honeymoon, and my trip to Europe, I’m not sure what I COULD do. All I can do is pray for my grandfather and hope my uncle is right.”
We had our breakfast, then returned to the dorm to get our books. Clarissa, Sandy, and I headed to our Abnormal Psych class.
“Sorry if I was rude before,” Sandy said.
“It’s OK,” I replied. “It was a valid question, and one I considered.”
“Were you worried it was Angie when the phone rang?” Clarissa asked.
I nodded, “I was. I even apologized to my mom for sounding somewhat relieved.”
“What do you think Angie will do?”
I shrugged, “I have no idea.”
After Abnormal Psych and P-Chem, we headed back to the dorm. There was a note on my corkboard that my mom had called. I quickly went into my room and returned the call.
“Your dad is at Edward Hospital in Naperville and says your grandfather is doing OK and is in reasonably good spirits. They’re going to keep him for another day or two, then send him home. He’ll need to see a cardiologist and they’ll take it from there. But it seems as if he’s not in any serious danger at the moment.”
“Good!” I exclaimed.
“Your dad will be home on Wednesday night. He wants to make sure your grandfather gets home and your grandmother has everything she needs. I think with your Uncle Rob and Aunt Chris and their spouses and families, everything will be taken care of.”
“Can Grandpa receive calls?”
“Your dad gave me the number to your grandfather’s room. Let me give it to you.”
She read off the number and I wrote it down.
“Thanks,” I said. “Do you think it’s OK to call him now?”
“Probably. If he doesn’t answer, that means it’s not a good time.”
“I’ll call when we hang up. If you hear anything, please let me know.”
“I will. Focus on your finals. You have enough other distractions for the next two weeks!”
“You think?” I chuckled.
“See you on the 26th!”
We said ‘goodbye’ and after Mom hung up, I pressed the switchhook and dialed the number in the 312 area code. My dad answered and he handed the phone to my grandfather. My grandfather sounded pretty good, and after we chatted for a few minutes, he gave the phone back to my dad.
“He’s going home tomorrow afternoon,” Dad said. “I’m staying to make sure he gets home and your grandmother has all the help she needs. I plan to be home on Wednesday evening.”
“OK. Mom said she’d call if anything changed. I’ll see you on the 26th.”
“I’ll be there, Mike. Your grandfather is insisting that he’ll be there as well.”
“Tell Grandma that I understand if they aren’t able to come and to keep Grandpa from doing anything foolish.”
Dad laughed, “It doesn’t work the same in a Dutch Calvinist family as it does in a Russian Orthodox one!”
“Tell Grandma what I said and that the situation makes her an honorary «бабушка»!”
Dad laughed again, “Thanks for helping me laugh. I’ll tell her. It should be good for another laugh.”
We said ‘goodbye’ and I hung up, then joined the gang for lunch. After lunch, we headed back to the dorms and checked our mailboxes as we usually did.
“I got it!” José exclaimed waving a paper in the air.
“Congratulations!” I replied, and our other friends echoed that sentiment.
“A private shower is the best benefit of being RA!” Gene said.
“Of COURSE you think so!” Jocelyn teased.
“I didn’t mean for THAT!” he laughed. “Did you see how small the shower is? I meant for not having to wait for a turn, or time things just in case all the showers are busy when you’re in a hurry.”
“And you CAN squeeze in there!” Sandy teased.
“Maybe if you’re a runner like Mike,” Gene laughed, shaking his head. “And your girlfriend was tiny, like Lara or Kimiko.”
He was stocky, not fat, but also not built like a football player.
“Now wait just a minute!” Jocelyn objected, putting her hands on her hips.
“I wasn’t saying you were fat!” Gene said defensively.
“Relax, Jos,” I chuckled. “You have very nice curves!”
“Watch it, Mik!”
“What?” I asked innocently. “You DO have very nice curves!”
“He’s right,” Clarissa smirked, licking her lips.
Jocelyn rolled her eyes and we went upstairs to get our books so we could head to our afternoon classes.
May 14, 1985, McKinley, Ohio
On Tuesday morning, I worked on my final paper for Abnormal Psych until the Post Office and BMV opened, then drove over to change my license and registration at the BMV and my address at the Post Office. Fortunately the lines were short and I was able to accomplish both in a relatively short amount of time, and returned to campus to put the finishing touches on my paper. I had just put my pencil down when the phone rang.
“Mike Loucks,” I said when I answered.
“Mike, it’s Dad.”
“Hi! How’s Grandpa?”
“Ready to go home. He really dislikes being in the hospital.”
“No doubt,” I replied. “I heard just how horrible it was from Jocelyn. Is he still going home this afternoon?”
“Yes. I did tell your grandmother what you said and she laughed. Then later, she told your grandfather he was going to follow the cardiologist’s instructions to the letter and she was going to make sure he did. She sounded just like you would expect Grandma Borodin to sound in similar circumstances.”
“Good!” I chuckled. “It’s never too late to learn to be a «бабушка»!”
“Your grandfather objected and then your grandmother made me laugh when she told him, and I’m quoting now, ‘our grandson the doctor gave me specific instructions’!”
“Not even close!” I chuckled. “That’s four years from now, at least!”
“You know grandparents like to exaggerate! Your mom’s dad does that all the time when he talks about you!”
“True,” I agreed with a silly smile my dad couldn’t see.
“Everything looks to be going the way we expected, so I plan on driving home tomorrow afternoon. If anything comes up, either Mom or I will call you.”
“Thanks, Dad. Tell Grandpa I’m glad he’s going home.”
“Not half as glad as he is!”
“Until Grandma lays down the law,” I chuckled.
“That will be interesting to watch, at long-distance, like with an A-bomb test!”
We both laughed, then said ‘goodbye’ and hung up.
I finished editing my paper, checked my watch, and decided I had enough time to go to the computer lab and create the final copy I would hand in. I did that, and returned to the dorm just in time to join the gang for lunch. Clarissa came by to get me and stepped into my room.
“Done?” she asked.
“Yeah. It was way more work than I’d intended to have to put into this class, but it was worth it.”
“Did you keep your conclusion intact?”
“That mental healthcare sucks? Yes, though I used proper language - inefficient, ineffective, indifferent, and often incoherent. All of which is caused, at least in part, by the stigma of mental illness and the public perception that the mentally ill are somehow less human than the rest of us. But as we know, it’s only a matter of degree that changes quirky behavior into mental illness. We call people like that ‘eccentric’ until they cross some invisible line and then we want to drug them or lock them up.
“Locking them up actually used to be the policy, as we talked about, until the ACLU won their case in 1975. The problem was, once the ‘right to liberty’ basically outlawed institutionalization for anyone who wasn’t a danger to themselves or the community, nothing effective was put in place to replace it. And the stigma I mentioned prevented proper integration of people like Angie into the community. Drugs became the treatment of choice because they made it easier on everyone. Well, everyone except someone like Angie.”
“So you think they should just take her off the drugs?”
I sighed, “Heck if I know, but what I did conclude is that until we change the public perception of mental illness and stop relying on drugs as the primary treatment, we’re never going to have a system which isn’t inefficient, ineffective, indifferent, and often incoherent. I don’t know how to fix Angie’s illness, and I’m not planning on being a psychiatrist, so someone else has to work on that. But that someone HAS to be focused on a combination of education and treatment.
“I relate this to the ‘hand washing’ history we learned about. It was only after doctors were properly educated that the majority began following the guidelines. But as we also know, there are doctors today who don’t follow those guidelines, even though they’ve now been scientifically demonstrated beyond any reasonable doubt. And while true science never takes anything completely off the table, I’d say the ‘germ theory’ of disease is pretty well secured against any possible alternative hypotheses.
“So what we need, as I wrote in my paper, is a strong public education effort, along with new and better research into the genetic, social, and environmental causes of mental illness, and ways to treat them which do not involve psychoactive drugs except in the most extreme cases. We also need a strong effort to prevent mental illness where it’s preventable. And to de-stigmatize treatment so people will seek it when necessary.”
Clarissa smiled, “You almost sound like a professor!”
“You do realize that in five years WE will be teaching medical students! I read the information McKinley Medical School provided on sub-internships, clerkships, and clinical rotations. We’ll be supervised by Residents, some of them first year!”
“God help us AND them!” Clarissa replied, shaking her head.
“No kidding. Let’s go have some lunch.”
We left for the cafeteria where we sat at our usual table with the gang, then headed back to the dorm. I was slowly moving things from the dorm to the cottage, and Clarissa, Jocelyn, Robby, and Lee helped me carry things down to my Mustang so I could leave them in my new home on my way to the appointment with the clerk to get the marriage license. When we came back upstairs, Kimiko was waiting.
“Do you have a minute?” she asked.
“Sure.”
“Come to my room, please?”
Clarissa and Jocelyn smirked, but they both knew that nothing was going to happen. Even if I weren’t engaged, Kimiko and Brandon were very close and it appeared that he might even return to Japan with her when she graduated. I followed her down the hall to her room. She unlocked the door and we went into the common area, leaving the door wide open behind us.
“I have a small gift for you,” she said. “Well, two, actually. I wanted to give one of them in private. I’ll give the other at your wedding reception.”
“I appreciate the thought,” I replied.
She unlocked the door to her room and came out with a package wrapped in white paper covered with images of cherry blossoms. She handed it to me and when I opened it, I couldn’t help but laugh. It was a small print of Octopus and shell diver. For Kimiko, that was an extremely risqué gift, given her natural conservatism, but one which acknowledged our relationship. The print could only be displayed someplace very private, which meant my bedroom in the cottage. I wondered how Elizaveta would react to THAT.
“I wanted you to have a nice print of the image, instead of the poster.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“Our relationship was beautiful, but the cultural gulf was too wide,” she said with a soft smile. “I have no regrets, Maikeru-san.”
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