Chapter 51 — Doctor Mike Loucks, Reporting as Directed

_September 20, 1989, McKinley, Ohio_

{psc} Tuesday at the hospital, and Wednesday morning at the Free Clinic had been busy, but routine. That changed at 11:22am on Wednesday morning.

"Doctor Mike, you have a phone call," Tamara, the receptionist, said, coming into the small break room. "Line 2. You can take it here or in your office."

"Thanks," I said, getting up from my chair.

I picked up the handset, then pressed the flashing button on the wall phone.

"Doctor Mike Loucks," I said.

"Doctor, this is Peggy Burch, from Doctor Anderson's office. He needs to see you immediately."

Doctor Nels Anderson was the Hospital Administrator, who had an MD and a PhD in public administration, and who hadn't practiced medicine since completing his Residency, when he'd gone back to school for his PhD rather than seek an Attending role. I found that curious, but had no real way of finding out the reasons behind it.

"As in, I need to leave the Free Clinic right now?"

"He said 'immediately'," she replied.

"May I ask what this is about?"

"He didn't say. He simply said to locate you and ask you to come to his office immediately."

She'd said 'immediately' three times which meant it was urgent, and I really had no choice.

"OK. I need to let Doctor Turner know. It'll take me about twenty minutes by the time I do that, drive to the hospital, and come to the admin wing."

"We'll expect you in twenty minutes."

I hung up and contemplated whether I should call Shelly, who was my mentor, or Doctor Roth, who was my supervising Attending. As I thought about it, I couldn't imagine they weren't aware of whatever the concern was, and I certainly hadn't made any medical mistakes or said anything to anyone that might attract attention from the Hospital Administrator. That left exactly one possibility in my mind.

I left the break room and went to see Doctor Turner and explained I needed to leave.

"I don't know how long it will take," I said. "But I'll take my lunch break, which will minimize the impact."

"You don't know what they want?"

"No, but I have a sneaking suspicion. I'd rather not say anything at the moment."

"Understood. I can't imagine you're in any trouble."

"As Doctor Clarissa Saunders would say, that only means you don't have an active enough imagination! She maintains she can't leave me unsupervised for two minutes without me finding a way to get into some kind of trouble!"

He laughed at that and said he'd see me when I returned. I let Tamara know I was leaving, but I would be gone longer than the usual thirty-minute lunch break. I made sure she had my pager number in case she needed to get in touch with me, then left for the hospital. Unlike the hospital, I wore slacks, a shirt and tie, and my medical coat at the Free Clinic, and felt that was more appropriate than scrubs to meet with Doctor Anderson.

When I arrived at the hospital, rather than go directly to Doctor Anderson's office, I stopped at my locker to retrieve what I expected to need — the pocket tape recorder with the mini-cassette that I'd had when I'd spoken to Krista. On the drive over, I had gone over and over in my mind the possibilities, and barring something about which I was completely unaware, it was the logical reason to be called in front of the Hospital Administrator on short notice.

I walked along the second-floor corridor to the far end of the building, turned right, and went into the administration wing, and to the end of that corridor, where I entered Doctor Anderson's outer office.

"Doctor Mike Loucks, reporting as directed," I said to his secretary.

"He's expecting you. Go right in, please."

I nodded, and went into the office and saw Doctor Warren from the medical school, whose presence confirmed in my mind that it was about Krista Sandberg.

"Good morning, Doctor Anderson," I said. "Doctor Warren."

"Good morning, Doctor," Doctor Anderson said. "Please have a seat."

I did, and his secretary closed the office door behind me.

"May I ask what this is about?" I inquired.

"There has been a very serious accusation against you," Doctor Anderson said. "Would you describe the interaction you had with Krista Sandberg, a medical student, on Monday morning in the Emergency Department consultation room?"

"With your permission, I'll do one better," I said, taking the tape recorder from my pocket.

Doctor Warren, who had looked grim when I had come into the room, looked relieved, which told me I was on the correct path.

"A tape?" Doctor Anderson asked.

"Yes."

"Let him play it, Nels," Doctor Warren said.

I didn't wait, and pressed play, though the first thirty seconds were silence, except for the rustle of cloth and muffled background voices.

"This tape ran continuously from the time of a conversation I had with Nurse Kellie Martin before I spoke with Miss Sandberg until I spoke to Kellie Martin again after the interaction with Miss Sandberg."

{block} {ptt} Mike: "I need to speak privately with Krista. I'm going to use the consultation room, but I'll leave the door open. Would you stand where you can see into the room but can't hear?"

{ptt} Kellie: "Is this about our conversation the other day?"

{ptt} Mike: "Yes."

{ptt} Kellie: "OK"

{_ Rustling noises and muffled voices in the background, then a door opening _}

{ptt} Mike: "I need a minute."

{_ Rustling noises and muffled voices in the background, then sounds of a chair moving _}

{ptt} Mike: "I have sufficient information and evidence to be reasonably certain you've lied to me. I'm not going to debate you or get into an argument about that. What I am going to do is say this once, and only once — if, from this point forward, you lie, obfuscate, dissemble, or dissimulate, I will fail you. Period. And I'll make it stick. That's all. You're dismissed."

{ptt} Krista: "But…"

{ptt} Mike: "You're dismissed. Go."

{_ Rustling noises and muffled voices in the background _}

{ptt} Mike: "You observed that the door was open the entire time, right?"

{ptt} Kellie: "Yes." {/block}

I reached over and stopped the recorder.

"I'd say that's definitive," Doctor Warren observed.

Doctor Anderson nodded, "I agree. Would you leave the tape with us?"

I thought about it for a moment and decided I could because I'd made a copy on Monday evening out of an abundance of caution.

"Absolutely, provided I receive a brief memo, signed by all of us, that we listened to it together and it disproves what I'm going to assume was an accusation that I demanded sex from her in exchange for a passing grade."

"Yes, to both of those. You obviously suspected she was going to do that. May I ask why?"

"I was warned by three different female staff members, who I would prefer remained nameless, to be very careful around her, and not to be alone with her."

"May I ask what information you have that shows she lied?"

"I'm reluctant to say, because it was personal and not a policy violation."

"I told you, Nels," Doctor Warren said firmly. "You know what he's implying."

"And you know the pushback about interfering in doctors' private lives."

"I do, and I'm going to endorse Doctor Mertens' recommendation that we make engaging in inappropriate activities during a shift or in the hospital while off shift an ethics violation for medical students. That's the purview of the medical school. We can't control what happens when they aren't in the hospital, obviously. You know our position on the propriety of teacher-student relationships."

"And you know everyone involved here is an adult. This isn't some High School English teacher sleeping with a student."

Something which had happened the previous year at Hayes County High, which had led to the teacher leaving but not being arrested, as they couldn't prove anything had happened before her eighteenth birthday.

"I know the arguments," Doctor Warren said. "I just don't buy them."

"Let me have Trudy write a quick memo," Doctor Anderson said.

He got up and left the office, and Doctor Warren leaned close.

"I was positive it was a lie," he said, "but my hands were tied because she made a formal accusation that you had helped her out of expectation of sexual favors then demanded them in exchange for a grade. I am VERY happy you had that recording because otherwise it would be 'he said/she said' and it might have become very ugly."

"I have $10 that says she changes her story, claiming to have misremembered when the conversation occurred."

"Earlier this morning she gave a formal statement, under oath, to the medical school's legal counsel. She signed a transcript in front of a notary."

"When did she actually make the complaint?"

"Yesterday morning. Doctor Mertens reported it to me, we consulted with legal counsel for the hospital and the medical school, then invited her to make a sworn statement. The tape you have directly contradicts what she said, and in my mind, proves she lied in her sworn statement. That is grounds for immediate dismissal. Hospital policy dictates her student privileges here are automatically suspended, as they would be for any hospital staff member who was suspected of lying in a sworn statement."

"Guilty until proven innocent?" I asked with an arched eyebrow.

"It's with pay for the hospital staff, but think about the possible liability for the hospital if they allowed someone to interact with patients who the hospital administration is aware knowingly and willingly perjured themselves. Remember, charts are legal documents, and falsifying them is a criminal act. The same is true of drug inventory records and prescription forms."

I nodded, "It does make sense, even if it seems to fly in the face of innocent until proven guilty."

"Which, believe it or not, does not apply to the operation of the hospital, despite it being a public hospital, at least with regard to suspensions with pay. In a way, you could say they are comparable to being released on bail after an arraignment."

"OK," I replied. "Explained in that way, it makes perfect sense."

Doctor Anderson returned with a memo which had been printed on a laser printer, which created much nicer documents than the printer we had at home, which was dot matrix. When Kris needed better quality, she would take a floppy disk to Ohio State where she could print in color, as well as with higher quality. The wording of the memo was acceptable and clear, so I signed it, then passed it to Doctor Warren, who signed it. Doctor Anderson signed as well, then took it to his secretary to make copies, which she brought in about two minutes later.

"If you don't mind, I'll head back to the Free Clinic," I said.

"How is that working out?" Doctor Anderson asked.

"Fine, I think, and Doctor Turner seems happy. I think it's great experience for medical students and PGY1s, and should be continued."

"Thanks, Doctor."

"You're welcome."

"Thanks, Mike," Doctor Warren said.

I nodded my acknowledgement, then left Doctor Anderson's office, saying a silent prayer of thanks for Shelly's advice about using the tape recorder. I checked my watch and decided to go to the cafeteria to get my lunch to go. Given I was going to eat while driving, I bought a sub sandwich, an apple, and a Sprite, all at subsidized prices, then left the hospital. I drove back to the Free Clinic, finishing my apple and pop just as I pulled into the parking lot.

"I'm back," I said to Doctor Turner, from the door of his office.

"Everything OK?"

"Yes. There was an issue with a medical student which needed my immediate attention. I'm sure you'll hear about it through the grapevine, but I can't say anything just yet."

"Understood. And you're right about the gossip. Doctors are the worst! Did you manage to get lunch?"

"I ate on the way back from the hospital. I let Tamara know I'm ready to see patients."

"And you have your first one," Nurse Michelle said from the door to the office. "But an easy one. New city employee who needs their pre-employment physical and drug test."

I got up and began my afternoon. I saw a total of seven patients, including the pre-employment physical, and at 5:00pm, I headed to the hospital to get Rachel from daycare, then headed home.

_September 20, 1989, Circleville, Ohio_

"I needed to use the tape I made on Monday," I said to Kris when Rachel and I arrived at the house.

"I can't believe your student was foolish enough to make that claim! You were the only one trying to help her!"

"I know, and I have the feeling that when I confronted her about lying, she thought I had discovered proof she'd slept with an Attending or Resident to get a grade."

"Did she?"

"As I said when we discussed it, she denied it, as did the doctor, but given she lied about other relationships, who knows? As I see it, once she knew she had been caught lying, she decided the accusation was her only gamble, and but for Shelly's prescience, it might well have worked. I'm also going to guess that a complaint against the other doctors she slept with would be forthcoming at some point."

"And that would help her?" Kris asked.

"It certainly would put the hospital and medical school in a difficult position if she were to fail, and I would have been in serious hot water. The impression I had from the Hospital Administrator was that in a 'he said/she said' situation they have to give the benefit of the doubt to the person making the complaint.

"That doesn't mean they'd win, but I would have been suspended until the investigation was complete, and with no evidence, there's no telling how it would turn out for me, or for the other doctors against whom she made the accusation. Ultimately, the worst case for her would have been a payoff from the hospital and doctors, and transfer to a different medical hospital."

"I'm very glad you made that cassette tape," Kris said.

"Me, too."

"Dinner is in about twenty minutes. Will you help by setting the table?"

"Of course. Let me change the Tsarina and change my clothes, and I'll be right back down."

Ten minutes later, Rachel was doing her best to help me, but her 'help' often created extra work, but that didn't stop me from allowing her to try. We finished, and about ten minutes later, we sat down to eat. After our meal, we quickly cleaned up, then dressed and headed to the Cathedral for Vespers.

_September 21, 1989, McKinley, Ohio_

"Krista Sandberg is not here," Kayla Billings said when I approached her on Thursday morning for the patient handover. "She was suspended yesterday."

"OK," I replied. "I take it there was no official word?"

"Correct."

"They can't really replace her or add hours for someone else, so that means I'll have only Al for an hour this morning, then for three hours this evening. You suffer with only having one student overnight."

"Only for another nine days. She might be back by then."

There was zero chance of that in my mind, and I was surprised that the reason for the suspension hadn't leaked.

"Al's a solid Third Year," I said. "You can rely a bit more on him. I'm sure you saw my sign-offs in his procedure book."

"Including an Air Ambulance flight! Must be nice! I'm PGY2 and I haven't had a single flight, and _you_ were certified as a flight surgeon BEFORE you started your Residency!"

"Right place, right time. Shall we run the board?"

"Only one for me to hand over — suspected acute IBS waiting on admission to Medicine for testing. On Ringer's IV due to dehydration."

"OK. I'll coordinate with Doctor Saunders."

"Al is in the lounge. I'm outta here; see you tonight."

She left, and I went into the lounge.

"Morning, Al," I said. "Would you call upstairs and see when Doctor Saunders can take Mrs. Iverson?"

"Right away!" he declared.

I poured some coffee and sat down, and Al came back about three minutes later.

"Doctor Saunders said we can send Mrs. Iverson up any time," Al said.

"Then would you call for an orderly with a wheelchair and escort Mrs. Iverson upstairs, please?"

"Sure thing. Can I ask you about Krista? Nobody seems to know what happened."

"I haven't heard anything official," I replied. "And until we do, it's probably best to avoid speculating. I did suggest to Doctor Billings that she give you more tasks."

While my statement was technically true, I knew exactly what had happened, though I felt it best to discuss it only with Shelly. I was sure Kellie would say something when she arrived for her shift, which checking my watch, meant any moment, but I didn't feel I should say anything to her at this point.

"I think this is the only educational program where people ask for MORE work!" Al declared. "And more difficult work, to boot!"

"I'd say there's a good chance that's true, though I suspect flight school has similar situations."

"Minus the hours! We don't let pilots or truckers work the hours we do! And I'm including you doctors and the nurses as well!"

"Society at times has its priorities screwed up," I replied.

"It sure does," Al agreed.

He left to escort Mrs. Iverson up to Medicine and a minute later, Kellie came into the lounge and sat down next to me. The lounge was empty, something that was common at this hour, which allowed us to stay there.

"Your doing?" she asked quietly.

"I was asked about her and provided information. I didn't initiate it."

Doctor Varma came in and greeted us, which meant the conversation had to end, though I was sure Kellie would ask again at some point.

"Mike, Naveen?" Ellie said from the door to the lounge, "EMS on their way with at least three victims from a rollover MVA. I just notified Ghost and Isabella. First victim is four minutes out."

"Thanks, Ellie," I said. "Kellie, with me, please. Al is taking a patient up to Medicine."

Kellie, Naveen, and I headed to the ambulance bay, donning gloves and gowns along the way.

"Morning, Mike; morning, Naveen," Ghost said. "Isabella and I will take the first two, Naveen the third. Mike, do your surgical Resident schtick; I'm sure at least one of them will need it, given it was a rollover."

And need it, they did. An hour later, having inserted two chest tubes, a subclavian line, and done a pericardiocentesis, all three patients were stable enough for admission or surgery, which two of them needed. The one pleasant surprise was that the first patient, who was in the worst shape, had been intubated in the field by Roy, a first for the Hayes County Paramedics.

"I want to do what you do," Al said when he joined me as soon as he'd returned from escorting Mrs. Iverson to Medicine.

"For your Sub-Is, a double in trauma, a double in surgery, one in pathology, and one in cardiology. You should speak to your advisor immediately, as there are only a limited number of pathology Sub-Is offered. If you want to Match here, the big challenge is, that as things now stand, there's only one guaranteed trauma surgery slot available for your Match. The contingency way to do it would be to use trauma as your backup, then try for one of the slots that open after your PGY1. Of course, you could also apply to other hospitals with programs, and you should, but the order of your Match selections will depend on your priorities."

"What about applying for surgery?"

"Again, as things stand, that would require you completing seven years of Residency in general surgery, and because of the way things are trending, you would have very little exposure to trauma, because the trauma surgeon Residents will be covering the ED. Maybe things change, or maybe you could work out some kind of transfer, but you can't count on that happening."

"Would you be willing to write a recommendation?"

"Assuming you continue your excellent progress, I'd be happy to."

"How much can you teach me in the next ten days?"

"You're about at your limit for what you can do as a Third Year, even if I push the edge of the envelope, but I'll do my best to talk you through any procedures I do when we're together, though that's only a few hours four days a week for the rest of the month."

"Every little bit helps. I'm the only one in my year with even a single helicopter flight!"

"As I said to Doctor Billings this morning, those will be rarer going forward, once the new trauma wing and surgical wing are completed, and we expand services to be a Level I trauma center. And shouldn't you be gone? Your shift ended twenty-five minutes ago."

"There was no way I was going to leave your side during those traumas!"

"Go home, get some sleep; you're going to be extra busy for the rest of the month."

"Thanks."

He left, and I went to the lounge to find Jake and Heather.

"Good morning," I said to my students. "Let's see some patients."

About six hours later, I took my lunch break to coincide with Clarissa's, which meant not seeing Shelly, who had three surgeries booked for the day.

"I heard," Clarissa said. "What happened?"

"Your ears only, Lissa, not to be shared with anyone."

"You know me better than that, so you wouldn't say that without you being directly involved in what happened."

"She accused me of demanding sex in exchange for a grade, and claimed I only helped her in expectation of sexual favors."

"Leila Javadi was right!" Clarissa exclaimed, though she kept her voice low. "But with those accusations, how come she was suspended, and not you?"

I smiled, "After Kellie Martin made it clear Krista had lied, I consulted with Shelly, and when I confronted Krista, I had a pocket tape recorder in my scrub pants pocket. I also made sure the door was open and Kellie observed the interaction. I played the tape for Doctor Anderson and Doctor Warren yesterday when they confronted me about the accusation."

"Jesus," Clarissa breathed. "You owe Shelly your life. You'd have been fucked, and not in a good way!"

"I know," I replied. "That's why Shelly insisted I use the recorder surreptitiously."

"I just don't get why Krista would do that when you were the only one who would help her."

"I'm going to guess, because I don't know, that the allegations about sleeping with a doctor to get a grade were true, and she thought that's what I knew, and that's why I promised to fail her if I detected even a hint of a lie in the future. I'd wager she expected me to ask her again about it, then confront her with evidence."

"Which you didn't have."

"But she didn't know that," I replied. "And the way I presented it to her was a clear statement, and I gave her no chance to debate me. It's also the case that according to Kellie, Krista was going to try for an affair with me, but Becky warned her that wouldn't end well."

"No shit! If you _were_ going to do that, which you aren't, it'd be Kellie Martin!"

"She wouldn't be first on my list, Lissa!"

"Yeah, yeah," Clarissa replied, rolling her eyes. "What happens next?"

"I'm sure she'll be expelled forthwith. The only question is whether she demands an ethics committee hearing and tries to expose everyone to allegations to prevent being expelled. I'll simply play the tape."

"You have it?"

"No, I gave it to Doctor Anderson, for which he provided a memo saying it exonerated me. I did make a copy on Monday night to ensure it wasn't damaged or erased or whatever. I have all the necessary equipment and cables at home to easily do that."

"I think the only thing you're missing is a reel-to-reel tape player."

"Nah," I chuckled. "I don't have an 8-track player."

"Does anyone? That was like a 60s and 70s thing."

"The tapes basically disappeared from the stores at the end of '82," I replied. "I think Columbia House still offers them as part of their record club, or did the last time I saw an ad."

"Did that ever tempt you?"

"No, because there was no guarantee that there would be albums I wanted in the timeframe for the required purchases. I also didn't like the 'negative option' where you had to send back the reply card to NOT receive their choice of album. I also didn't buy any of those K-Tel compilation albums they advertised on the independent UHF station."

"And no Pocket Fisherman?" Clarissa asked with a smirk.

"No!" I chuckled. "And no Veg-O-Matic or Mr. Microphone, either! That said, Ron Popeil is a marketing genius, and the epitome of the eccentric individual inventor who thinks he can build a better mousetrap."

We finished our lunches, and I returned to our respective services to complete our shifts.

_September 22, 1989, McKinley, Ohio_

"Are you sure you're OK with me mingling with the crowd after the concert?" I asked as Kris and I headed to Shaken Not Stirred after leaving Rachel with her «tante préférée» for the evening.

"Yes. Kari and I decided we'd go for ice cream once we all take our bows at the end."

"Good ice cream is an effective balm!"

"Says my husband, who never has anything except «une seule boule de chocolat»!"

"And only kisses a pretty French girl! Or should I have variety there, too?"

Kris laughed, "If you cannot tell the difference between «glace» and «minou», you are a poor excuse for a doctor and an even worse excuse for a husband!"

"You taste better than ice cream!" I declared.

"And it won't make you fat!"

"No, but it will eventually make YOU fat because of what it leads to!"

"Next week is the key time," Kris said. "I think I'll have to wake up early most days so we can attempt to notify the stork that we desire a baby!"

"Did you pick up that phrase here or in France?"

"France, of course! It's an ancient European myth, and was reinforced in popular culture by a Hans Christian Andersen story, _The Storks_."

"I had no idea! I knew about it as a kid, from a few references to it by people engaged in the adult conspiracy, but had no idea of its origins."

"The 'adult conspiracy'?"

"It's from a series of books by Piers Anthony set in a fictional world named 'Xanth'. In that world, adults conspire to keep interesting things from children, including details about sex. It also involves a taboo about seeing underwear as well as careful use of censored language."

"So, «les États Unis», then!" Kris said mirthfully.

"Pretty much," I agreed. "I do not intend to keep those secrets from our children, though I have been careful about language because you know darn well Miss Rachel would decide to demonstrate her command of inappropriate language at the most inopportune time! And she might use bad words, too!"

Kris was quiet for a second, then squealed and smacked my arm.

"«Français» is NOT an inappropriate language!"

"Says YOU!" I retorted. "I mean, seriously, vulgar street Latin with Frankish influence?"

"As opposed to «Anglaise», a brutish tongue if there was one!"

"Worse than German?" I countered.

"Well, no, but as you like to say, that's a low bar!"

"And you like my tongue!"

"I do!" Kris declared. "Use it later?"

"Of course!"

Shaken Not Stirred was filled to capacity, and the concert was very well received, as the previous ones had been. Once we'd taken our bows, I hugged and kissed Kris, she left with Kari, and I went out into the club to mingle, heading right to the table where Jo, Samantha, Les, and Becka were sitting.

"Ladies," I said.

"You were awesome, Mike!" Sammy gushed. "Can we buy you a drink?"

"I have a shift in the morning, so same as the first time, it'll have to be a Sprite."

She got up and went to the bar to get the drink.

"And here we were hoping to get you drunk and take advantage of you!" Jo teased.

"I think his wife might object to that!" Becka declared. "Where is she?"

"Not twenty-one," I replied, "and you know they card hard here."

"That stinks for her," Becka exclaimed. "She could sing and can't even come say 'hi'!"

"I know," I replied. "How are things going for all of you?"

"School is keeping three of us busy," Becka replied. "And Jo is enjoying her job."

Sammy returned with my Sprite and I thanked her.

"How is being a doctor?" Sammy asked.

"I very much enjoy it, though I could do without the internal politics and the soap opera drama."

"So everyone fooling around like on _General Hospital_ or _Days of Our Lives_?"

"It is like that at times, though not everyone. I try to focus on medicine."

"How is your daughter?" Becka asked.

"She turned two at the end of last month and has acquired sufficient language skills to order me around like any good Russian woman would!"

The girls all laughed.

"I thought Kris was French," Jo said.

"Yes, but with three of her four grandparents being Russian, and the other being Polish from when it was part of the Russian empire. That said, neither of us is interested in Rachel being 'Russian' beyond knowing her heritage. We're not teaching her Russian, though my very annoying fifteen-year-old sister-in-law is teaching Rachel French, mostly to annoy me!"

The girls all laughed again.

"Let me guess," Jo said with a smile, "she has a crush on you and is jealous of her sister?"

"That appears to be the case, though it's innocent. Rachel really likes her, too."

Several others in the crowd came up to speak to me, including one young woman who clearly had designs on being a groupie, and I gently deflected her. Because of the others, I didn't have much chance to speak further to the four girls, and after about twenty minutes of socializing, I went backstage, packed up, and then took my things to the car. Once I'd stored them, I went to Verner's to meet Kari and Kris. I bought a single scoop of chocolate in a cone, and then Kris and I walked back to my car.

"I'll drive so you can finish your cone," Kris offered. "Otherwise, we delay you using your tongue for something you say tastes better!"

"Because it does!" I declared. "And you don't complain when I kiss you afterwards!"

"Because I want you to keep doing it!"

"Which is why I happily kiss you after you do the same for me!"

"Well, not for a few months! We cannot miss _any_ chance to get pregnant."

"In that, we're in complete agreement!

_September 24, 1989, Southern Ohio Correctional Facility, Lucasville, Ohio_

"I'd ask how you were doing," I said to Frank Bush on Sunday afternoon in the prison visiting room, "but you'll simply turn it around, so I'll ask instead if there's anything you need?"

"A file baked into a cake?" he said with a wry smile.

"I doubt that ever actually worked, despite being a feature of comedy since they started making movies. So, besides that?"

"I finished _A Time to Kill_ and _The Russia House_," he said. "With not much to do, I make quick work of them."

"Did you read the theology books I sent you?"

I had, as I'd promised, arranged to send him _Becoming Orthodox_, by Father Peter Gillquist, _Common Ground_ by Jordan Bajis; _The Eucharist_ by Father Alexander Schmemann, and two books by Vladimir Lossky — _Orthodox Theology_ and _In the Image and Likeness of God_.

"I read some, but everything I read was seriously unscriptural."

Which was the response I had expected.

"I'd encourage you to read them with an open mind," I said. "But if not, then feel free to share them with others. What did you want me to get you next?"

"How about _Presumed Innocent_ by Scott Turow?"

"I'll order it the same way I did the other books. Anything else?"

"Not for me, but one of the inmates has what I swear is TIA, but I was a pediatrician, so my knowledge is limited. The guards and prison nurse insist he's faking."

"What are his symptoms?"

"Loss of feeling in his face and left arm, double vision, difficulty swallowing, an unsteady gait, and trouble articulating things. It's all occasional, except the loss of feeling in his face. I can't examine him without getting into serious trouble, and even if I could, I have no equipment and no medical license."

I wasn't sure what I could do, as I didn't have a medical license, and wasn't authorized to practice outside the hospital or Free Clinic. That said, speaking to him, then speaking to someone above the basic guard level, might get him the proper evaluation he needed. The question was, how to go about it. One idea came to mind.

"About the only way I could see him today is in the chapel. Think he'd join us for prayers if you invited him? Then he could tell me about his symptoms and ask me to intervene as chaplain. I can't practice medicine in the prison because I don't have a license and there is no Attending here to supervise me."

"I think he would, given I said I'd ask you to help."

"How long has he had the symptoms?"

"About two weeks."

"OK. As much as I don't like to delay further, we should probably play a few games of chess first, because otherwise someone might become suspicious."

"They're automatically suspicious about everyone and everything. I guarantee they ran your name for warrants and any interaction with the cops."

"They all love me," I replied. "I've treated several of them in the Emergency Department, both from the McKinley PD and the Sheriff's Department. Supposedly, if I show up at _.38 Special_, I won't have to buy my own drinks."

"Alcohol is a demon, Mike."

"I'm not completely teetotal, but I limit my alcohol intake. You can't be Russian without at least sipping vodka on occasion, and my wife is French, and they drink wine like we drink Coke."

"I'd say more lives were messed up by alcohol than any other substance, including cigarettes. At least those mostly only affected the person smoking."

"Second-hand smoke is bad, though I agree not as bad. Anyway, shall we play?"

He nodded, and we set up the pieces, with Frank taking white for the first game.

"I did speak to someone at Taft about correspondence courses," I said. "It's possible, but I'd need to ask my bishop for funds from the benevolence fund, but I didn't want to do that without your agreement."

"Contingent, of course, on converting, right?"

I shook my head, "No. Orthodox Christian Prison Fellowship provides, at a minimum, regular correspondence with any incarcerated person who asks, regardless of their faith. Visits happen whenever possible, and the goal is to provide human contact and show Christian love. I'm technically affiliated with them, though given the demands of Residency, you are the only one with whom I'm involved. I will, eventually, seek out others here who need human contact, and I'd be more than happy if you recommend them. I won't preach, but I will ask them to pray with me. What they do with that is up to them."

"I think you can understand why I'm cynical, given I'm a captive audience."

"Are you? If you insist that I leave and never contact you again, I'll honor that request, leaving you with information on how to get in touch with me if you change your mind. In that case, I, and my parish, will continue to pray for you, but you won't hear from us directly unless you ask."

"An interesting approach to evangelism."

"I'd say more effective than anything Tim Saddler ever did on the Taft Campus."

"That fool should never have been allowed to debate you. I wouldn't have fallen for those silly traps you laid for him!"

I smiled, "He laid the traps and was caught in his own snares. And he provided me with the material to defeat him without even working up a sweat. As I tried to tell him, in nearly two thousand years, the Orthodox Church has heard and seen it all, and has addressed it all. I think if you give those books a serious chance, they'll explain it very well."

"Pass," Frank said flatly.

"OK. I won't bring it up again."

"How in the world do you ever win any souls giving up that easily?"

"As Seraphim of Sarov said, 'Acquire a peaceful spirit, and around you thousands will be saved'. And, as James says, 'I show my faith by my works'. I can't argue anyone into believing, I can only witness to God's love by what I do for the least of my brethren."

Frank didn't respond, so we continued our game, with it ending in a draw, then me winning as white. During the second match, Frank confirmed that he wanted me to check on money for correspondence courses, and I agreed to do so. So as to not use up all our time, we only played two games, then went to the chapel, with Frank requesting that another prisoner, Kurt Wolfe, join us. A guard went to find him and escort him to the chapel.

"Kurt, this is Chaplain Mike Loucks," Frank said. "He's an MD, and I explained your situation."

"Nice to meet you," I said. "I think we should pray first, and then I'll let the guard know that you want spiritual counseling so we can have a quiet conversation. I can't examine you, but I can try to intervene with the prison administration."

"Thanks," he said.

As I had on previous visits, I said the Trisagion prayers, saying the responses myself, as Frank was uninterested in doing so. When we finished, I spoke to the guard, and he acknowledged my request, and instructed us to sit in a specific pew where he could observed us but stand far enough away as to not overhear the private, spiritual conversation.

I asked a series of questions, doing the history part of the H&P, and using the permission to touch him to feel a weak pulse in his left arm under the guise of providing spiritual support.

"I'll try to speak to someone on the way out," I said to Kurt, then let the guard know we were finished. He called for another guard to escort me to the entrance. Once I was through the security doors, I walked over to the guard station where I showed my chaplain ID and my medical ID, and asked to speak to the prison nurse.