Prs Plastic Surgery Journal

On my birthday, my mother-in-law had barely been wheeled out of surgery when she was rushed straight into the ER again. Then, a newly posted video from an intern went viral. In it, the intern held a scalpel and sliced open my mother-in-law's abdomen, while the surgeon who was supposed to be leading the operation, my husband, was nowhere in sight. 'People say an intern has no business being in the operating room? That's all right. My man, the department head, indulges me.' My husband's coworkers reacted warmly, saying the two of them made quite a pair. I forwarded the video to the hospital director without hesitation. … Before long, my husband called. His breathing came hard and uneven, his voice breaking between words. "I forgot your birthday. Big deal. Did you really have to run to the director and accuse me of breaking hospital rules? I'm done with you and your ridiculous tantrums. Even if my mom takes your side this time, I'm still divorcing you." He hung up before I could say a word. What he didn't know was that his mother would never take my side again. Because the patient who hemorrhaged and died after being operated on by that intern was his mother.

Blood... it's bleeding," I cried out in pain, tears welling in my eyes as I looked down at where our bodies joined. His cock was halfway inside my pussy now, slick with my blood and juices. "That's normal for a virgin," he said, his voice husky. "Just breathe, sweetheart. The pain will turn to pleasure soon." He started to move slowly, pulling out a bit before thrusting back in, his cock was stretching my pussy walls. Each thrust sent waves of discomfort, but gradually, the pain subsided and it was replaced by a strange fullness that made my body tingle. ***************** Desperate and broke, college student Annabel fights to save her twin brother's life, his heart transplant costs five hundred thousand dollars and time is running out. Working double shifts as a hotel server, she and her twin brother were abandoned by their father in the orphanage two months after their mother died to start a new family. He also stole the inheritance their mother left behind for them. But when a reckless outburst leads to a chance encounter with Richard Anderson, American richest billionaire, her world flips upside down. He offers her the money for her brother's surgery, but in exchange, she will have sex with him for one night.

"I'm still a virgin." He pulls away from me and appears surprised. "No, then we'll have to stop," He pulls away from me. I don't want this to stop. Something about this feels right. I'm not repulsed by a man touching me for the first time. I resume kissing him. "No, no, we don't." I mumble as I lock my lips with his and ease my hand into his trousers. Emily Adams needs money to afford surgery for her critically ill brother Liam, in her attempt to find another job she stumbles upon an ad offering to pay $350,000 but the only catch is she has to become a surrogate for a stranger. Billionaire Jacob Collin doesn't have time for women, he is only concerned about the family business, persuaded by his grandmother he agrees to have a child but when he meets the woman who has agreed to be his surrogate he begins to fall in love. Their encounter leaves them both yearning for the other, as Emily start getting attached and is unwilling to pull through with the contract and Jacob takes it upon himself to discover the identity of his surrogate but there are forces that wants to keep them apart. Can they find each other and kindle their love or will they never be together?

I had just been discharged from surgery for a collapsed lung when my boyfriend took me to a childhood friend’s birthday party. At the party, he yanked off my ventilator and used it to inflate party balloons. My chest seized violently, as if my lung had been torn open. Justin Miller turned to Sophie Shaw proudly and said, “See? This is so much easier than blowing them up with your mouth.” I gripped the doorframe. I was gasping as my vision blurred. “Justin, I need that to survive! I can’t breathe!” His expression darkened. “Sophie was kind enough to invite you to her birthday party. Know your place! Besides, she put in a lot of effort for this day and spent hours preparing for it. Are you really going to ruin the celebration?” I struggled to speak through the pain. “Is her surprise more important than my life?” I extended a trembling hand toward the ventilator, but Justin waved it aside. He said impatiently, “I already checked. You won’t die from holding your breath for just a moment. Don’t be so selfish!” At that moment, pain stabbed me in the chest, and I used every ounce of my strength to press the emergency call button my brother had given me.

Clara found herself in a loveless marriage. For five years, she performed her wifey duties so well, but Bruno never really cared about her. Every second she is reminded how she robbed him off getting married to the woman he loves. On their fifth anniversary, just like the previous one, Bruno didn’t show up putting every of her effort into a waste. And when he finally did, it was the same cold expression but this time with a divorce papers thrown at her. Clara was heartbroken but it cut deeply when she found out Bruno has a secret family. A little child of three. All their years of marriage, Bruno told her he doesn’t want kids. Even when she managed to get pregnant, He forced her into abortion! *************** Years later, Clara had returned strongly, Not just the ordinary Clara but a well-known doctor who has never had a failed surgery and guess who came back begging, Bruno! “I was wrong, please forgive me! save my dying daughter! I begged you” Bronu knelt down and held Clara by the leg. Will Clara save Bruno child? What if Clara child was never aborted? Seat back and read this Drama-filled story.

My husband persuaded my daughter to donate her kidney to save his lover. After the surgery, he stayed by his lover’s side and neglected my daughter who developed kidney failure that led to her death. When I confronted the nasty couple, they refused to believe that my daughter had passed away and kicked me out by force. Afterward, I took my daughter's ashes to her eighteenth birthday party where my husband showed up with his lover and tore down all the decorations, going as far as to scatter my daughter’s ashes. He then accused my late daughter of undermining his lover’s career. When he finally had to accept that his daughter was dead, he still insisted on defending his lover. Eventually, I showed him proof that it was his lover who refused the hospital’s proposed organ donor so that she could plot to take my daughter’s kidney instead. Upon finding out the truth, he lost his mind and killed his lover. Now that those two have gotten what they deserve, I bring my daughter’s ashes and travel to the places she had always wanted to go to.

On my wedding night, I was rushed to the hospital in an ambulance after a tampered condom left me in excruciating pain. The surgery took over twenty-four hours, and the story spread like wildfire. My husband, Alexander, let it be known that anyone who managed to photograph me in my post-surgery state would be rewarded with ten million dollars. Overnight, I went from being a billionaire's new wife to the laughingstock of every elite circle in New York. The next day, Alexander's childhood sweetheart Dahlia showed up at my door. That was when I learned the truth: she'd coated the condom with industrial-strength adhesive as part of what she called a "social experiment." She didn't show a shred of remorse. Her tone was flippant and cruel: "It was just an experiment. I mean, how was I supposed to know you'd react like that? Besides, we both know you were never good enough for Alexander. So drop the act." Alexander stood beside her, his gaze cold and dismissive: "If it weren't for the marriage contract, no one would've touched you. You know that, right?" What he didn't know was that the woman he was calling a slut had saved his life more times than he could count.

At the factory, my arm is pulled into a machine. After the surgery, the factory supervisor tells me it's my fault. Because of my arm, the machine has to be shut down for repairs, and every day of downtime will cost them millions. "Someone has to take responsibility for this, Zachary," the supervisor tells me. "It wouldn't make sense to demand millions from you, so just compensate us with 300,000—that's all." Under their threats—and my family's desperate begging—I sign the IOU for 300,000. With one arm gone, I can no longer find a job. All I can do is collect trash to repay the debt. While picking up bottles outside a restaurant one day, I hear the factory supervisor laughing and bragging inside. "Actually, that one-armed guy didn't violate any rules. In fact, the HQ gave three million dollars in compensation. My house and car? All bought with that money," he said. "I mean, who'd ever find out? With that debt hanging over him, he's probably already run off somewhere." Shaken by the news, I stagger onto the street. A truck roars out of nowhere, slamming into me and throwing me 16 feet across the road. When I open my eyes again, I had returned to the day I lost my arm.

When James Chapman and I first got together, I was a regular student while he was one of the most popular guys in school. Five years down the road, I'm still a regular woman. James' attitude toward me has changed drastically, though. He frequently complains about my appearance. I know it's because his true love is back in the country. He misses our fifth anniversary because of her. His true love makes fun of me for being ugly to his face, so he orders me to get cosmetic surgery at her newly opened clinic. He wants me to use my fanbase to make her business boom. "You're so ugly that you'd be the perfect person to prove Barbara's skills… if she can actually make you look better, that is. We're all friends, aren't we? What's wrong with lending her a hand? Stop being so petty!" Barbara Simpson kills me—I die on the operating table in her inhumane clinic. James thinks I go missing because I'm just throwing a tantrum, but he realizes he's wrong when he finds my mangled body in the basement. The diamond ring he put on my finger is still there, too.

On the eve of a surgery, I voluntarily resign from my position as lead surgeon. My colleagues sneer behind my back and mock me openly. "And this guy's supposed to have a PhD from abroad? Looks more like he bought a degree from some no-name university." "Can't even handle a challenge without running—what kind of doctor is that?" In my last life, I gave up competing in a general practitioner skills competition to take on this very surgery. But because the other lead surgeon violated protocol during the operation, it ended in a serious medical accident. My sister, the head of the department, pinned all the blame on me. Even my girlfriend stood firmly on their side, accusing me of incompetence. Overnight, I went from being a respected medical PhD to the disgrace of the hospital. I couldn't prove the mistake wasn't mine. I was fired and faced criminal charges. My parents, once so proud of me, pointed at me in rage. "We don't have a son who plays god with people's lives!" Crushed by shame and despair, I spiraled into deep depression and jumped from the hospital roof. But now, I open my eyes again. I'm back—back to the night before the surgery.