Cerita Pendek & Novel Doctor Obsessive

There is a medical dispute at the hospital. A patient's family member comes at us swinging a knife. Without hesitating, I push my husband, Maxwell Conner, out of the way. But then, he grabs my hand and pulls me in front of his beloved junior, Karina Burton. The knife plunges straight into my abdomen, killing the baby I had just conceived. As my horrified colleagues cry and rush me toward the ICU, Maxwell violently pulls me off the gurney. He barks, "Save Karina first! If anything happens to her, I'll fire every last one of you!" The doctors are stunned and furious. "Maxwell, have you lost your mind? Karina only suffered a minor injury. Your wife is the one in critical condition!" Clutching my bleeding abdomen, I nod slowly. "It's fine. Just forget it." Maxwell, I owe you nothing after this.

To prove she was fair, Valerie forced me into the family's live-fire drill. She knew I had a severe heart condition. She knew I couldn't stand the sight of blood. Three hours under the blistering sun. My hands shook wildly. I stared at the trembling rabbit tied to the target, terrified to pull the trigger. "You can't even kill a freaking rabbit? How are you supposed to lead this family?" Valerie's icy voice lashed at me from behind. Tears filled my eyes. I finally pulled the trigger. The bullet tore through the rabbit. Blood spattered everywhere. The smell and all that red triggered my blood phobia instantly. Everything went pitch black. Chloe, the intern medic, walked over and grabbed me roughly. Her eyes were full of pure malice. "Underboss, her vitals are totally fine. Is she faking it just to escape training?" Valerie looked down at my pale face. Disgust and disappointment covered her face. "Gemma, is this how I raised you? Everyone else finished. You don't get special treatment." "You finish this drill today—even if it kills you!" Then, my chest stopped moving. Dead silence. My soul floated into the air. I looked down at Mom, filled with guilt and despair. I'm sorry, Mom. This time, I really couldn't hold on.

On my first day at the urology department, I stumble upon an affair between a female doctor and her patient. When I push open the clinic door, I hear a woman's muffled moans coming from behind the screen. Then, the screen rattles as bodies clash against it. I stand at the door, not knowing what to do.

I was operating on my husband, Don Cassius Vitelli, when I removed a bullet lodged less than an inch from his heart. He'd refused general anesthesia just so he could stay on the phone with his childhood sweetheart, Mia Russo. He'd insisted on local anesthesia instead. "Stitch faster," he ordered, gripping his phone and fighting not to tremble. Watching him wince in pain, I fought to keep my nerves in check as I pulled out a document and slid it in front of him. "It's a consent form for your post-op medication. Standard procedure." I looked at him. "Sign it, and I'll take care of the rest." Cassius didn't hesitate for a second. Cassius had fought his way to the top and he trusted no one. He normally double-checked everything, down to the supply lists. But he was so focused on Mia's soft breathing over the phone that he signed the document without even looking at it. He had no idea he'd just signed divorce papers. I'd followed him for seven years. For three of them, I'd been his secret wife, the woman he could never show to the world. In 15 days, I would finally be free.

I filed to leave Doctors Without Borders a year in advance, just so I could return home, keep my promise, and marry Dennis McMillan. But by the time I got back, Dennis was already a father. I overheard him telling the housekeeper, "Let Anna stay abroad a little longer. Best if she doesn't come back at all. If she finds out I have a son now, she'll definitely cause a scene." It was only then that I understood—he had deceived me. Three years ago, he said to me, "Go spend three years with Doctors Without Borders. Toughen yourself up. Once you are more mature, you'll be ready to be my wife." And I was mature now. I wasn't the same girl who used to break down in tears whenever something went wrong. My tastes had changed too. And now, I wasn't interested in someone like him anymore.

I'm in the middle of my pediatric shift when an emergency call comes in. A three-year-old boy arrives, hemorrhaging and unconscious from a car crash, but there is no matching blood type in the bank. Then, it hits me that my husband, Ethan Stone, has the same blood type, so I ask him to donate blood right away. When he arrives and stands frozen to the spot, I can no longer hold back my rage. "What are you waiting for? Saving his life is the priority here!" That's when the boy's mother sprints over and screams, "No! Close family can't donate! He's the boy's father!"

"Pregnant patient, corpus luteum rupture, heavy bleeding! We need a consent form signed—now!" I stood there holding the clipboard, waiting, when a voice I knew way too well cut through the chaos. "I'm here!" Jimmy. My husband. The same guy who vanished on our anniversary—now signing off on emergency surgery for another woman. He didn't even blink before writing "husband" on the form. Still had our wedding ring on, too. He didn't recognize me behind the mask. Just grabbed my hand and begged. "Please save her. It's my fault. She's pregnant. I messed up. I love her. I can't lose her." His grip tightened. My wedding ring slipped off and hit the floor. I didn't say a word. Just turned and walked into the OR. A doctor beside me, totally clueless, beamed and said, "Dr. Meyer, your test results came back—twins! Your husband's gonna be so happy. Congrats!" I smiled, barely. "Schedule the termination after surgery."