Chapter 72 — Any Question You Ask

_January 14, 1990, Circleville, Ohio_

{psc} After church on Sunday, Kris and I dropped Rachel at Abby's house, where she'd have a sleepover, something that made her very happy. Kris would pick her up after class on Monday.

"Think she'll miss us?" Kris asked with a smile as we drove away from the Greene's house.

"We're chopped liver compared to Abby," I chuckled. "You saw her run to Abby and hug her as soon as Joel opened the door! No kiss, no hug, no 'goodbye' for her parents!"

"So, she's a teenager at two and a half?"

"Pretty much," I chuckled.

"Did Father Roman expressly forbid sex today?"

"No, and he'd never do that. On the other hand, he did counsel spending more time talking than fooling around."

"I don't want to make light of your concerns, but Rachel does not appear to be suffering from a lack of attention. You make time for her every day, even if it's just reading a book, saying our prayers, and going to church together. I know you want to spend more time with her, but I don't see how that would be possible short of giving up your career in medicine.

"As for me, you reminded me of the challenges that would arise to the point I finally insisted you stop doing so! And yet, here I am, happily married to you and pregnant with your second child, who will be born sometime in June. If you remember what I said to you, then you would understand that I love you and want to be with you. It really is that simple."

"I don't disagree with you, but I think my concern is more nuanced. And maybe it's just me, and my reaction to your view of relationships, but I'm not sure I can describe it without making what are very likely dangerous and inappropriate comparisons."

"You mean to Elizaveta, right?"

"Yes," I said as I pulled into the driveway of the house. "Let's continue this inside."

"On one condition," Kris said with a smile. "We make love first. I think it's important."

About an hour later, having made love in our favorite position — me sitting cross-legged with Kris facing me and her legs wrapped around me, we showered, then made tea, and went to sit on the couch in the great room.

"You know I'm not the jealous type," Kris said. "I also know you love me with your whole heart, so I think it's OK to make the comparison if that will help you."

"I think," I said carefully, "it comes down to a struggle between different philosophies that have been in tension for as long as I can remember — romanticism versus empiricism, or emotion versus logic, or utilitarianism versus faith. There is an ebb and flow of those tendencies as to which one is ascendant, and it's the tension that causes me to get into trouble at work.

"Elizaveta was generally governed by emotion, and I was the more logical, practical one, though not always. You are governed by logic and practicality, and now I'm the more emotional one. That creates a very different type of relationship. I mentioned to Father Roman and to Vladyka that what I needed from Elizaveta was very different from what I need from you."

"Am I not supporting you emotionally in the way you need me to?" Kris asked.

"If I could put my finger on the thing that's making me uneasy, we'd have already solved it. I think, all things being equal, I was more balanced emotionally and psychologically before Elizaveta reposed, but it would be too easy to simply point to either her or you as the source of my imbalance. In fact, I'd say the source is internal; I just don't know how to fix it, and I think it's what is causing my erratic emotional swings at work.

"I think the thing that is disquieting is that I've spoken to Vladyka JOHN, Father Roman, you, Clarissa, Shelly Lindsay, and Ghost, and haven't been able to work out what I need to do. Loretta and Nurse Martin both have noticed, but neither of them can really offer any advice, given they don't know me well enough, and neither of them are Orthodox."

"No accusations, but this is where doctors have affairs or abuse drugs, isn't it?"

"Yes. I have several people to keep me on the straight and narrow in that regard, including Clarissa and Nurse Martin, both of whom I see almost every day. Obviously, Vladyka JOHN, Father Roman, and Father Luke are available as well. And you, of course. The problem with either of those courses of action, besides the obvious immediate, painful death at the hands of an irate French woman, is that they don't actually solve the problem."

"Slow, painful death," Kris said with a smirk. "Not immediate!"

I smiled, "Noted for future reference! But ultimately, as someone who has to be utilitarian in his work — that is, see what works and keep doing that — those options fail the test, never mind the commitments I've made. And that's the trap for doctors — you think it's going to help you feel better emotionally or take away the pain, but in the end, it only makes things worse."

"So if an affair or drugs _were_ an effective cure, you'd consider them?"

"And reject them for other reasons. Just because something works doesn't mean I'd do it. That's where faith and ethics come in. I think the perfect example is what they're calling 'physician-assisted suicide'. There's a doctor in Michigan who is, in effect, advertising for a patient to be a test case. His basic operating theory is that a patient with a terminal, debilitating, painful disease ought to have the right to have a physician prescribe or even administer a lethal dose of drugs, most likely a sedative. That would be an effective way to reduce suffering, but not something I could ever ethically do, even if it were ostensibly in the patient's best interest and at their request."

"Because of your faith, your oath, or a combination of both?"

"A combination, but it's an interesting debate between 'do no harm' and being a 'forceful advocate for your patient'. I would outright reject any form of euthanasia which was not initiated by the patient, but the other one is a close call. I would, in the end, classify it the way I do abortion — I would never be party to it, would never counsel it, but I wouldn't block a patient from requesting it. That said, I don't think physicians should be involved because, suddenly, we are no longer solely healers. But I think we've strayed off the path."

"Yes, but it does give me insight into your thinking. May I ask a very direct question?"

"Of course."

"If there were a risk, who would it be?"

I smiled, "Speaking purely hypothetically, the answer to that question is not one of the 'usual suspects' because I'd be on my guard. It would be some random, out-of-the-blue flirtation."

"If Clarissa were straight?" Kris asked with a smile.

"I'd have been married to her, not Elizaveta and my life would be VERY different. So no, there would be no risk of an affair!"

Kris laughed softly, "There's the logical Mike on full display!"

"That was before when we were naked in bed!" I said.

Kris laughed again, "And an impressive display it is!"

"I'm certainly happy you think so!"

"Teasing aside, have you considered speaking to the counselor who helped you before you had the falling out over Angie?"

"I'm not sure speaking to Doctor Mercer is the right course of action," I replied.

"Perhaps a secular counselor might provide insight."

"Perhaps."

"A question you don't have to answer, but what would Elizaveta's solution have been?"

I chuckled, "The same as always — more sex and doing things her way."

Kris laughed, "I see. Are we having enough sex?"

"My smart aleck answer is that there is no such thing as 'too much sex'! But even I know that's not true! The actual answer is that I don't believe the frequency of sexual congress is the source of the problem."

""Sexual congress'? Seriously?"

"We do vary what we do! And I daresay you've pointed out that oral sex is _more_ intimate than intercourse!"

"I still say you Americans are strange in that you can be cavalier with oral sex, and many people don't equate anal sex with 'sex' with regard to virginity! Your fetish with 'virginity', as strictly defined, is the source of no end of confusion about sex!"

"Without delving deep into the theology, you can lay much of the blame for the Western views on sex at the feet of Augustine of Hippo and his dualistic Manichaeism, which made him hostile to sexual activity. Well, at least once he'd had enough of it!"

Kris laughed, "Father Jacques said Augustine was happy to have a mistress, but when it was time to marry, he swore off sex! My grandfather joked that Augustine should have married because that was the perfect way to ensure he had very little sex! My grandmother simply laughed."

"Nice," I chuckled. "Experience indicates otherwise! To state it directly, I am very happy with our sex life and very satisfied. I have no specific need or desire that has gone unfulfilled."

"I want to ask a very personal question."

"I'll answer any question you ask," I replied. "Just be sure you want the answer."

"Including names?"

"I'd prefer not to, but if you insist, I would. The same goes for anything which might make it obvious I was with a particular girl."

"No names, please; I agree with you on that. And yes, please be circumspect as necessary. How long was it after Elizaveta's repose before you had sex?"

"Roughly two months," I replied. "The «Указ» (_Ukase_) was issued about six weeks after her repose, and the first time was about three weeks later. I had performance anxiety, and I literally cried myself to sleep afterwards." {green}("letter directive"){/green}

"I would never have guessed it was that soon, because it doesn't seem to fit you."

"Oh, it does," I replied. "Before Elizaveta, I had a string of lovers, for which my various confessors took me to task, as they should have."

"That's also a bit surprising," Kris observed. "I would have thought you had a few serious girlfriends, but it appears you engaged in casual sex as well."

"At first, and I mean from the time I was with Jocelyn, I was controlled. When things with Jocelyn went from bad to worse, I lost all perspective. After Elizaveta's repose, I was emotionally needy and tried to substitute sex for intimacy. That failed miserably. Unfortunately, there were plenty of willing young women, and I availed myself of the opportunities presented."

"None of that surprises me," Kris said. "I read between the lines of things you've said and Clarissa or Lara have said, and I had a fairly good idea that you were promiscuous. So long as that is in the past, it's of no concern."

"It is," I said firmly.

"I'm curious if you could stay chaste while betrothed to Elizaveta and later to me, as well as after her repose but before your release…"

"A question asked by my confessors with regularity. I frustrated them as well."

"Did you have an answer?"

"Not a good one."

"Is there _ever_ a good one?" Kris asked with an arched eyebrow.

I chuckled, "No, of course not, but there are answers which confessors receive better than others. 'Because I wanted to' is NOT one they receive well."

"I would think not!" Kris declared. "Would you accept that answer from Rachel?"

"By the time Rachel is thirteen, she'll have a very good idea of our views. At that point, it's not my place to question her unless I believe she's in danger. She, like me, will have to confront the choice and deal with the consequences. That said, I will reserve the right to provide a single lecture if she asks for, or I discover she's on, birth control pills."

"And if you don't like the boy?"

"Consider that Deacon Vasily liked me; consider his opinion of me after I was with Tasha."

Kris laughed, "It's the boys the dads like who are the safest; it's the ones the dads don't like who are the objects of desire!"

"Rebellion?"

"I saw it quite often with my friends in Paris. The less their dad liked a boy, the more likely they were to sleep with him."

"There's also the thrill component of being with the 'bad boy'."

"You weren't the 'bad boy', and I bet the dads all liked you!"

"For the most part, yes. The only real trouble I had was with a racist dad who forbade his daughter from seeing me because I had a black friend. I bet you can deduce what happened next!"

"She started dating the black guy, right?"

"Yes. Her dad didn't know, obviously, but for her, it was sticking her thumb in her dad's eye."

"While she was being stuck with something else!"

I chuckled, "I don't know for a fact, but I can infer that did happen."

"I'm not fishing, but what happened to that guy? Your only black friend is the student you're mentoring."

"He moved to Chicago," I replied.

"Going back to the reason we're talking, I don't know what you might do except speak to a counselor because it appears to be something internal, not external. Well, assuming you are being completely honest with me, which I believe you are."

"I am. There is nothing wrong with you or with Rachel. This is all my interior life being somewhat of a mess. I told Father Roman I don't feel as close to you as I think I should, but I'm fairly certain that's about me, not about you. I can't point to a single thing I'd want you to do differently."

"There is one good thing that that suggests."

"What?"

"That more talking isn't going to solve it, so we can spend the rest of the afternoon and the evening in bed!"

I smiled, took her hand, and led her upstairs.

_January 15, 1990, McKinley, Ohio_

When I arrived at the hospital early on Monday morning, I checked in with Paul Lincoln, and once the handover was complete, I retrieved the emergency medicine interview schedule from my small mailbox in the lounge. I'd already reviewed the surgical schedule, which had been in my mailbox in the surgical lounge.

Doctor Gibbs and Doctor Roth had coördinated, so there was no overlap, and I'd have four hour-long interviews in the morning and four in the afternoon. That would chew up half my day, and required extra shifts or extended hours for the other Residents, and for someone from Internal Medicine to cover my shifts at the clinic for a month.

I was very happy that telephone screens had reduced the candidate pool to twenty for each service. The hospital had received ninety-eight applications for surgical positions and seventy-six for emergency medicine. Those had been reviewed, and each was reduced to sixty based on grades, recommendations, MLE scores, and personal statements. Each of those sixty applicants for each service was interviewed over the phone, with twenty from each pool being invited for face-to-face interviews.

From the face-to-face interviews, we'd rank the students for the Match, including all twenty, assuming there were no disqualifications during the interview process. The Match would then assign us six for emergency medicine and five for surgery, one of which would be the new trauma surgery slot.

I liked the idea of having a say with regard to new Residents, but I didn't like the fact that I'd, in effect, be in committee meetings for four weeks. Fortunately, all we had to do was rank the candidates. The final decisions with regard to who to select, and in what order, rested with Doctor Roth for Surgery, and, because the Chief of Emergency Medicine position was open, on Doctor Gibbs for the ED.

"You two are assigned to Bill Schmidt for the bulk of your shifts for the next month," I said to Jenny and Kelly. "I'll be interviewing prospective Residents. Doctor Schmidt will be in at 7:00am and work until 6:00pm. Paul Birch will handle surgical consults. My time between those hours is booked solid with interviews. Four in the morning, starting at 8:00am, and four in the afternoon, starting at 1:00pm."

"Do you get any breaks?" Kelly asked.

"An hour for lunch, and ten minutes between interviews," I replied. "Not my idea of fun, but I do appreciate having a say in who we select. Jenny, when is your interview in Internal Medicine?"

"On Thursday."

"Where else are you interviewing, if you don't mind my asking."

"I don't. Three hospitals in Columbus and one in South Carolina, where my best friend just started her Residency."

"You clearly don't have to answer, but how do you plan to make that decision?"

"I have no idea! I want to interview first!"

"Wise."

The two hours before the first interview were quiet, and I only needed to handle a single walk-in. At ten minutes before 7:00am, I went upstairs to the small conference room reserved for ED and surgical interviews, where I was joined by Doctor Gibbs and Ghost."

"Spanish Inquisitor time?" Ghost asked.

"Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!" I replied, as required in response to such a statement.

"Let's try not to scare off the candidates, please," Doctor Gibbs said.

"If they're afraid of _me_, they're not going to make it as doctors! I'm the easiest-going on the entire surgical team!"

"Talk about a low bar!" Doctor Gibbs teased.

"Yeah, yeah," I chuckled. "Surgeons tend to be way too uptight and serious!"

"Says the guy in red scrubs! And didn't you see the memo that says we're supposed to do these interviews in medical coats and street clothes?"

"Something that needs to change," I replied. "When that was how the majority of doctors dressed in the hospital, it made sense. Now, only Psych requires suits and ties for men and skirts or dresses for women. Cardiology is a mix based on personal choice. It'll change."

"Do you do ANYTHING the easy way?" Doctor Gibbs asked.

"If you have to ask that question, Lor," Ghost said, "you haven't been paying attention!"

"Good point!" she replied. "Mike, do you know how many applications marked trauma surgery as an area of interest?" Doctor Gibbs inquired.

"Five of the twenty," I replied. "That was one of the reasons for putting me on both interview teams — I can do the ED evaluation for those five without having to have a second interview. All of those candidates are on the surgical list, so you won't see them."

"I'm not sure I like that," Doctor Gibbs said.

"Have a word with Doctor Cutter," I said. "He'll listen. He's not Northrup. From what Shelly said, the concern is that we already have to operate short-staffed during this period, AND some of our Fourth Years have time off to travel to their interviews."

"Doctor Gibbs?" Gabriella Martin said from the door. "I have your first candidate."

"Bring them in, please," Doctor Gibbs said.

She entered with a young African-American woman, a first, as far as I was aware. There were no black female Residents or Attendings at Moore Memorial and very few black males.

"Doctor Gibbs, this is Leticia Jefferson. Leticia, Doctor Loretta Gibbs, Doctor Greg Casper, and Doctor Michael Loucks."

"Good morning," Doctor Gibbs said. "Please help yourself to coffee and a pastry, and we'll get started."

She did so, then sat down while the trio of doctors also sat down.

"I'm Doctor Loretta Gibbs, Chief Attending in the Emergency Department. To my left is Doctor Greg 'Ghost' Casper, Attending in the Emergency Department. To his left is Doctor Michael Loucks, a Surgical Resident specializing in trauma. Please tell us about yourself. Take as much time as you like."

One very good strategy to really get to know someone was to simply allow them to speak and remain silent when they finished speaking. Most people would automatically try to fill the uncomfortable silence, and it was then that you received very important clues about them and their personalities.

"Good morning, Doctor Gibbs, Doctor Casper, Doctor Loucks," Leticia began, following the same strategy I'd used of naming each physician. "I was born in Cincinnati and grew up in Over-the-Rhine to a single mother."

I wondered if she knew Clark, given they were from the same neighborhood. She was only a year younger, so there was a very good chance they'd gone to High School together for three years. She continued with her story, and I was impressed by the challenge she'd overcome to graduate near the top of her class at Xavier and was set to graduate in the top 5% of her medical school class.

What I was curious about was why she'd interview at Moore Memorial. For me, it was because I wanted to stay as close to my family and friends as possible and serve the community where I'd grown up. That made me think we might be her fallback hospital, and if that were true, we'd have to carefully consider where we listed her, as if she put us far down her list, we might miss out on another candidate that we truly wanted.

That was part of the vagaries and risk of the Match. We'd have to assess the intent of the student while not being able to make any commitments ourselves. Students would, of course, put the best possible spin on what they said, just as I had. I was positive that the other hospitals had figured out that I intended to Match at Moore, so they would have listed me further down their list as the last choice for which a slot was, in effect, guaranteed.

Leticia spoke confidently, and I made notes on my pad to help me decide on her score for the interview. When she finished, she simply stopped speaking and waited for us to speak. I suspected she'd been coached to say what she wanted to say then stop so as not to create the exact situation I'd just thought about.

"Mike? Do you want to go first?"

I nodded, "Leticia, when did you know that you wanted to be a doctor?"

"During my Junior year in High School. A doctor from your hospital came to speak at career day, and I spent nearly an hour speaking to him after school."

"Mind if I ask who that was?"

"Doctor Washington, a cardiologist. I believe he's in Chicago now."

That didn't surprise me, as it made perfect sense for a black doctor to go to an inner-city school to talk to students. Their reaction to a white doctor would likely have been similar to Clark Brody's first reaction to me.

"Yes, he is," replied. "I met him just before he left when a friend had a coronary. As an aside, my roommate at William Howard Taft was from Over-the-Rhine."

Leticia smiled, "I know, Doctor Loucks. Clark Brody is my cousin."

I chuckled, "Uh oh!"

"He said to say 'hello'."

"I strongly suspect he said something along the lines of 'Say hi to the White Boy and don't take any crap from him!'"

"He did," Leticia said with a smile, "though he used an earthier term!"

"Decorum must reign," I replied. "Ghost?"

The questions and answers went back and forth, rotating around the panel until the fifty minutes allotted for the interview had ended, and Gabriella arrived to collect Leticia.

"Thank you, Miss Jefferson," Doctor Gibbs said. "It was a pleasure to meet you."

Ghost and I seconded that, and I asked her to say 'hi' to Clark for me.

"I obviously missed something," Doctor Gibbs said once Leticia had left.

"Clark was very wary of having a white roommate," I said. "His sum-total experience growing up with white people was cops rousting him or being treated like a second-class citizen. We ended up being fast friends. He found a job in Chicago when we graduated."

"What score did you award her on your evaluation form?"

"48 out of 50," I replied. "I am concerned that we're her backup, so in terms of potential Match position compared to others, I'd seriously consider listing her in the fifth or sixth slot so we don't risk losing another candidate we want. But I'm not sure about that."

"Why? I understand the risk mitigation of not losing another candidate."

"Clark being Clark, I suspect he encouraged her to apply here because we have exactly zero black female Residents or Attendings. And he'd have told her that. The fact that he sent along the greeting means she'd have sought me out at some point to pass it along. So, it's just possible we'd be her first choice."

"My brain hurts trying to play 'So I cannot drink the wine in front of you!'" Ghost said, shaking his head.

"There's no rule that says you can't ask her," Doctor Gibbs said. "You just can't promise her anything."

"Understood. Let me ask a direct question — is Moore Memorial ready for a black female Resident?"

"I'd never have expected that question from you!" Doctor Gibbs exclaimed in surprise.

"No way, Lor!" Ghost said with a grin. "You missed his point! If you say 'no', then Mike will insist we list her _first_ on our Match form!"

"Exactly right," I declared. "I think I'll seek her out during lunch and ask her."

"Just be careful how you go about that," Doctor Gibbs advised.

"I will."

We saw four more candidates before lunch, three of whom were good but not as good as Leticia, and one who I gave no score and marked 'do not select'. He simply rubbed me the wrong way, and I felt his personality was not a good fit for Moore. Both Loretta and Ghost agreed with that assessment, effectively knocking him out of the candidate pool.

As planned, when I arrived in the cafeteria, I looked for Leticia and saw her eating with Gabby and a small group of Third Years and candidates. I walked over and asked if I could speak to her privately once she finished eating. She agreed, and I went to sit with Clarissa to eat our lunches.

"Who's that?" Clarissa asked.

"Leticia Jefferson. In one of those weird things that only happen to me, she's Clark's cousin."

"Oh, shit!" Clarissa exclaimed, laughing. "I bet he told her all kinds of stories!"

"I'm positive you'd win that bet!"

"Is she good?"

"Head and shoulders above the other four candidates this morning. I want to ask her if she's serious about Matching here."

"You think she might not be?"

"I think there are two main options — we're her backup, or Clark sent her here in true Clark fashion."

"To upset the apple cart, as it were?"

"That would be him. He knows this hospital is, in words he'd use, 'full of White Boys'. I wouldn't put it past him encouraging her to come here to shake things up."

"Does he know how to do anything besides be a troublemaker?"

"Do I?" I asked with an arched eyebrow.

"Good point! You were perfect roommates!"

"On another topic, I had an interesting talk with Kris yesterday."

"You don't seem depressed, so I'd say it went OK."

"It did," I replied. "She encouraged me to talk to Fran Mercer. I'm not sure that's the best choice."

"Other than the situation with Angie, you and Doctor Mercer got along well, even when she got on your case about Elizaveta only being fifteen when you decided to marry."

"True."

"And she did switch sides about Angie. Granted, it was late in the process, but she did own up to her error."

"Also true."

"What's the worst thing that can happen if you call and speak to her?"

"Nothing, really. Angie doesn't blame Doctor Mercer, at least according to her mom."

"And all things being equal, you tend to agree, though you feel Doctor Mercer should have acted more forcefully. But you also know that the treating physician of record was the true source of the problem. Which is why he had his medical license suspended for six months and has a letter of discipline in his permanent file with the State Medical Board. Call her."

"I probably will. I want to think about it a bit more."

We finished our lunches, and neither of us had to hurry back because we were both on interview teams. About fifteen minutes later, Leticia came over to us.

"You absolutely have to be Doctor Saunders," Leticia said as soon as she walked up. "He said to look for the cute lesbian attached at the hip to Doctor Loucks!"

"I'm going to kill Clark Brody!" Clarissa declared mirthfully. "How is he?"

"Happily married, happy to be a dad, and happy to tell stories about the two of you!"

"I reiterate my intent to kill him!" Clarissa exclaimed. "I'll leave you two to speak. It was nice to meet you, Leticia."

"It was nice to meet you as well, Doctor Saunders."

Clarissa got up and left, and I indicated the chair she'd vacated to Leticia, who sat down.

"This is off the record," I said. "How serious are you about Matching here?"

"May I ask why you asked that question?" she countered.

"You know how the Match works, I'm sure. If we're your backup or fallback or whatever you want to call it, I won't take offense. What we don't want to do is make an error by listing someone at or near the top of our list who had no intention of listing us close to the top of their list."

"I assume from your comment earlier that it's OK to simply tell you what Clark said?"

I chuckled, "Yes, and I can guess, but go ahead."

"He said, and I'm quoting, 'The White Boy is a good guy, for a white guy, and you can be absolutely sure he'll do everything in his power to help you be a great doctor'. He also said that this hospital was 'lily white' and needed a dose of 'sister'."

"You would be the first African-American Resident at this hospital. There are no African-American Attendings. There are a few female Residents who are Middle-Eastern or Indian, but that's it. It won't be easy."

"No offense, but it has never been easy for me as a black woman. That goes for Xavier and UC Medical School. The hospitals in Cincinnati aren't any better, really. Every interview team has been white and mostly men."

"So, do you want to Match here?"

"Clark strongly encouraged me, but he's a troublemaker."

I chuckled, "That's what Clarissa — Doctor Saunders — said. I agreed with her but pointed out that I was just as much of a troublemaker. She observed we were perfect roommates. So?"

"I want to Match here," she said.

"That's all I needed to know."

"I do have one question to ask from Clark, but I have no clue what it means."

"What's that?"

"He said to ask you how the 'Sweet Thing' is."

I laughed, "Tell him she's a deputy Sheriff in Harding County and carries a gun, a nightstick, and handcuffs! And she won the Harding-Hayes County combat shootout."

"Amy would kill him, but he'd love that!" Leticia said with a knowing smile.

"So true! You know I can't make any promises, but I'm happy you're interested in Matching here. Say 'hi' to Clark for me, and tell him I'll get even!"

"Good luck with that!" she declared mirthfully. "I've been trying for over twenty years with no success!"

"It was nice meeting you," I said. "Hopefully, our paths will cross again soon."

"It was nice to meet you as well, Doctor Loucks."

"I go by Doctor Mike. Clark wouldn't have known that."

She smiled and walked back to Gabby while I headed back to the small conference room, this time joined by Shelly Lindsay and Nelson Burke."

"Did you miss the memo on attire?" Doctor Burke asked.

"Did you miss Mike not giving a rat's ass about memos like that?" Shelly asked before I could respond.

"What she said!" I replied.

"Mike," Nelson said, "in all seriousness, are you able to keep an open mind on the trauma surgery slot?"

"Yes. Obviously, I support Mary Anderson, given I encouraged her to lobby Owen about creating a new slot, but I will give the other four candidates a fair hearing, and if one of them is better, then one of them is better. Mary is going to cover all her bases by listing trauma surgery, surgery, and emergency medicine. If she's not the leading candidate for the trauma surgery slot, she can fill one of the others. And unlike most Residencies, in this case, there's next year, as she could apply directly for the slot and avoid it being submitted to the Match."

"I assume you worked with her on that strategy?"

I nodded, "I did. But as I promised you just now, I have an open mind."

A minute later, Mary Anderson came into the room without a Third Year escort, as she was a 'local'.

"Good afternoon, Doctor Burke, Doctor Lindsay, Doctor Mike.

We all greeted her and sat down. All of us knew her, so in one sense, the interview was simply a formality, but we had to conduct it the same as we conducted all the others lest we be accused of favoritism or, on the flip side, of not providing a proper interview if for some reason Mary didn't make the cut.

Mary did an excellent job, as expected, and answered all the questions we asked, including some difficult diagnostic questions I asked. I had asked the ED candidates easier questions, but I knew Mary, and I wanted to both challenge her and have her demonstrate she was as qualified as I felt she was. She had no trouble with those questions, which would help alleviate any possible claims of favoritism.

"Mary, I have to ask this," Doctor Burke said, "no offense, but did Doctor Mike coach you on those answers?"

"No. In fact, I asked him to help me prepare for the interview, and he refused."

"Then that's all I have for you. Shelly? Mike?"

"Nothing more for me," Shelly said.

"Or me," I added.

Mary thanked us and left. I went to use the restroom and then returned to the conference room.

"You know I had to ask, right?" Nelson inquired.

"Absolutely," I replied. "I expressly asked her difficult questions, more difficult than I'll ask most other candidates. No favoritism, as I promised."

"Exactly what I would expect from you," he said. "But I wanted to foreclose any possibility of a complaint from another candidate."

"I understand. She received 50 out of 50 on my scorecard."

"48 for me," Nelson said.

"I'm with Mike," Shelly said. "50. Why'd you knock her down two points?"

"I've never given a 50," he said. "Someday, I will, but the candidate has to be perfect in every way!"

"I have a feeling you'd have given Doctor Osler 48," I chuckled.

"Maybe he wasn't a perfect med student!" Doctor Burke countered.

Shelly and I both laughed but stopped when Carol Abbot escorted Bob Brown in for his interview. It went well, and he was a good candidate, as were the other three we saw. It was difficult for me to differentiate between them, and they all scored in the low forties. Following the final interview, I headed to the cafeteria, where I met Clarissa, Sophia, John Abercrombie, and Mary Anderson for dinner.

After dinner, I actually got to be a doctor for just over two hours, treating half a dozen patients, all of whom were walk-ins. I had one surgical consult just before 9:00pm, wrote up the admission papers, then headed up to the locker room to change into my street clothes.

"How are you doing?" Shelly asked as we removed our scrubs.

"OK. I'm going to speak to a counselor I've worked with before."

"Job-related or personal?"

"As if anything in our lives isn't job-related!"

"Good point! But you know what I meant."

"I did. It's about my feeling that I'm somehow failing Kris and Rachel and that I'm feeling as if there's something missing in my relationship with Kris. I don't think there actually is anything missing, but I can't shake the feeling."

"I hear you. There's a reason I'm still single at age thirty."

"I thought you were engaged."

"I am, but it's that same feeling of not being sure it meets my needs, or that I meet his that is constantly nagging me. But, I want a kid, so marriage it is!"

"Being a doctor, I'm positive that's not a biological requirement!"

Shelly laughed, "Obviously, but it is the easier route!"

"I can attest to that, for sure," I replied.

We both walked to the shower stalls in our underwear, closed the curtains, removed the underwear, and showered. We came out about the same time, towels wrapped around us, and as usual, I turned my back to Shelly while we both pulled on fresh underwear. We dressed in our street clothes, bade each other 'good night', and both headed home.