Doctor Novels & Stories

Yet. Before I can push him, the door opens and a doctor walks in. Not the same one as last time. This one’s younger, with tired eyes and a tablet in his hand. He barely glances at the three hulking wolves around my bed as he crosses the room, scrolling through whatever is on his screen. “Private Larkin,” he says, still reading. “Glad to see you’re awake. All the tests came back negative and your vitals look good. How do you feel?”

he smiled at their weird response as he walked towards them. He lingered forward, checking his heartbeat, updating his physique. "Can I be discharged any sooner?" Ken asked, dropping his head backwards in a bored manner, his eyes still fixed on the doctor who simply kept to his work. "Truly you've got speedy recovery." The doctor paused, "but!" He exclaimed. "As you can see your wife hasn't woken yet." He spoke stylishly, his hands pocketed in his coat. "She's not my fucking wife!" Ken yelled, giving an angry look at the doctor. Ben nodded along in agreement.

The pharmacist looks so disgust with the paper that I crumble when I was driving my car out of my frustration. "Look here young lady," I start, "This is a fucking signature from a fucking professional doctor which is Dr. Kerious Ayn." I continue. Her eyes widen and gasp. "S-Sir–" I did not let her to finish her sentence, she does not needed to finish them.

My mind shifted it's focus to an article that I had read on social media earlier today, Twitter to be precise. It was about the multi Billionaire CEO of Sparta Enterprises, named Simon Lawson. Apparently, he was getting married in a few days, to some mystery girl that no one had any idea about. When the media asked him for his reason for keeping the identity of the girl he was getting married to a secret, his response, was that he just didn't want people harrassing her. It was a sweet response, that made me smile when I read it; how sweet of him.

Adrian stood up. He took the page back from her, turned, and held it out to Vivian. “Read it.” Vivian’s hand shook so badly she could barely hold the paper. The letterhead: Weill Cornell Medical Center, Department of Urology. The contents: a Vasectomy Post-Operative Medical Certificate. Patient name: Adrian Francesco Moretti. Date of procedure: March 14, four years ago. Attending physician: Dr. Harold Weinstein, M.D., Adrian’s personal doctor, on the Moretti Family payroll for the last twenty years.

she asked, sizing me up and down. “No,” I admitted. She shocked me when she said, “Sorry, ma’am. Without an appointment, the doctor can’t see you.” God! How did I forget about that? I couldn't not just go back home after all this just like that! “Please,” I said. “I really need to see him. Can’t you register me now?” She gave me an apologetic smile and shook her head. “This is Professor Howard Kane. He’s the best in the country. You need to make a reservation at least a month in advance.”

A system error in his otherwise orderly world. While everyone kept talking, Vance quietly pulled out his phone under the table. Vance: Need a doctor’s contact in Oslo. Specializing in post-miscarriage care. Discreet. Urgent. Lydia: Right away. Everything okay? Vance: Just have it ready.

He went straight to the sofa and set the box down on the coffee table. "What's that for, Doc?" The female doctor asked, I turned to her and read her name plate. Iranlen L. Espinosa, MD Certified Orthopedic Surgeon Total joint replacement specialist Loren did not answer her. To my surprise, I turned to him, his forehead already furrowed at me. "Sit here," he gestured to the chair next to him. I was shocked and none of my own walked closer. He just stared at me as I approached, nor did he avert his gaze as I didn’t know where to turn his eye.

Mariane promised. After a while, the doctor came back with a calling card. She mouthed thanks to the doctor before the doctor left. Mariane read the calling card she was holding. ‘Zachary Smith. Neuro-Oncologist.’ Mariane frowned. ‘His name is a kind of familiar.’ she thought. ‘They might have just the same name.’ Mariane shrugged her thoughts away as she dialed the number written on the card and pressed the button to call the doctor. After a few rings, Mariane thought of giving up on calling him, as the doctor did not answer her call

the attendant, “alright, where do we pay?“ MacJor asked, and the front dest attendant pointed her hands to the account department and they walked to the place, and they paid the necessary fees, and card was given to them, and they were advised to wait for a doctor, and after some time, Leo entered to see the doctor, and the doctor told him to made himself comfortable, and Leo sat down, “how may I help you?“ the doctor asked, “am not here for treatment” Leo said,