Is 'Pleased Be A Doctor' Based On A True Story?

Shantelle Scott has been in love with Evan Thompson since she was young. When Evan's father arranged for her to be his wife, she willingly agreed, despite knowing it was against Evan's will. She devoted her life to him in their two-year marriage, forgetting her aspirations. She hoped her husband would love her back. Sadly, one day, Evan coldly said, "I want a divorce! I want you out of my life, Shantelle!" Years passed, Shantelle became a famous surgeon. When her ex-husband came to see her, he asked, "Doctor Shant, I need your expertise." "What is wrong with you, Mister Thompson?" She asked. Yearning reflected in the man's eyes as he suggested, "My heart is broken, and only you can mend it." Shantelle laughed and replied, "Mister Thompson, I am a doctor. I'm not God." *** There are two versions of the book. Old readers can access the old version in your library. Please scroll down. If you don't find it, kindly contact goodnovel (contact@goodnovel.com).

Before the divorce, she thinks he's absolutely worthless. After the divorce, he's transformed into the most amazing doctor of the millennium with boundless power and wealth. Unbeknownst to her, he's the one who's given her everything she owns now, and everything she could ever want would be served to him with a snap of his fingers. Since being average was a crime, he would show her who was the unworthy one!

Just imagine… You’re a doctor trained to heal broken minds — and now, your newest patient is the man everyone fears. A billionaire with a temper no one can control. A man betrayed by the woman he loved, now drowning in rage, guilt, and pain. Now imagine being offered a million dollars to marry him. Not for love. Not for romance. But as his “treatment.”

In my last life, the Fosters acknowledged me as their real son. But my own sister framed me for causing their adopted son's relapse. My biological parents believed her and threw me out. Not long after, I died sick and alone on the street. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day the Fosters came to take me home. Gracie Foster stood in front of our parents, pointed at me, and said, "Mom, Dad, he's not my brother!" They looked at me in disappointment, then turned and left. I stood there without taking out the locket that could prove who I was, then quietly walked back into the orphanage. Twenty years later, I became one of the country's leading cardiologist. The woman sitting across from me handed over a medical file, her voice trembling. "Doctor, please. Save my brother." When I saw the name, I stopped. My gaze shifted to her worn, haggard face. I stared at her for a long time before finally saying, "I won't take this patient."

My fiancé's junior colleague went around the hospital every day calling herself "the best girl". When a patient with acute appendicitis was admitted, she mistakenly prescribed laxatives instead of proper treatment. The patient nearly went into shock and died. After the hospital was reported by the patient's family, she simply smiled and said, "I don't even need a supervising doctor to prescribe medication anymore. I'm such a good girl!" On another occasion, she failed to order routine pre-op blood work for a surgical patient. During the procedure, a visiting senior surgeon was exposed and later contracted HIV. She actually puffed out her chest and said, "Even if everyone had to stay up all night helping me save the doctor, I'm still the best girl!" I protested more than once and urged my fiancé to dismiss her. He refused every time. He brushed it off with a laugh, saying "this good girl" just needed time and experience. Then, a prominent patient was transferred from a military hospital for surgery. She secretly tampered with the medical records, switching the pathology findings from the left lung to the right. She even revised the surgical plan, recommending removal of the patient's completely healthy right lung. Luckily, I caught the mistake in time, restored the correct pathology report, and performed the surgery successfully. After the patient recovered, he asked for our team to be recognized. To my disbelief, Elena Bakers ran to my fiancé in tears. "I wrote the entire report by myself! All by myself! I'm the best little girl! "Why do you always take credit away from me? It took so much courage for this little girl to be brave just once! "You're all horrible!" Elena stormed out of the hospital and was struck and killed by a car on the spot. My fiancé did not say a word. However, on the very day I was appointed hospital director, he produced falsified evidence accusing me of altering records and causing multiple medical accidents to advance my career. I was arrested, tried, and sentenced to death. As the verdict was delivered, he looked at me with unmistakable satisfaction. "You'll never make up for what you owe Elena. Not in this lifetime." When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day Elena altered the surgical plan.

As I walk out of the emergency room, a woman rushes over to me. "You're a doctor, right? My son scraped his knee. Hurry up and come treat him!" I am about to explain, but she glares at me and questions indignantly, "Isn't a doctor supposed to save people? You have time to slack off, but you have no time to treat my son's wound. Is that it?" She grabs my collar and drags me toward the ward. I try to explain, "Ma'am, I’m not—" But she doesn't listen at all and slaps me across the face. "Not what? Are you blind? Can't you see my son is bleeding? Instead of helping my son, you treat those poor nobodies! If you keep delaying my son's treatment, I won't let you off! "Get on your knees and apologize to him right now! Otherwise, I'll file a complaint and have your license revoked!" I endure the sharp pain and struggle to lift my head. In my five years of practicing medicine, this is the first time I have ever been complained about by a living person. "It's not that I won't treat him. I am a forensic pathologist..."