Not Your Doormat Anymore

When Nora saw me, she quickly wiped the smile off her face and stood at attention.

"Dr. Huxley didn't say exactly what he told those patients, but whatever it was, they totally bought it. But he doesn't have enough patient slots, so he asked me to speak to you. He wants to know if we can keep the patients under your name, but let him handle the rounds, prescriptions, and surgeries."

She glanced at me as she spoke, gauging my reaction. "To be honest, I think it's a pretty good setup," she added. "You've been so busy before, but now you can finally get some rest. Plus, with the patients still listed under your name, your salary stays the same!"

Getting help with the workload and still drawing a full paycheck-who would not want that?

I looked at her, already piecing it all together in my head.

Samuel must have pulled something behind the scenes to ruin my reputation. Why else would the patients suddenly turn on me and refuse my care?

Sure, I could rest. But I was not about to let Samuel drag my name through the mud.

"When those patients' families said I lacked medical ethics, what did they mean, exactly?" I asked. "Can you find out? If you get me the truth, I'll take you out for a nice meal your pick."noveldrama

I did not give her a clear answer on whether I would accept Samuel's proposal. But based on the way the patients treated me during rounds, I knew even if I refused, they would not take me back.

Samuel sent Nora to ask me out of courtesy. He didn't need my answer-it was just a show of power.

"Really? You'll treat me?" Nora's eyes lit up instantly. "Deal! I'll get to the bottom of it for sure!"

With the patients now under Samuel's care, I suddenly found myself with nothing to do, even during work hours. It was the first time since becoming a doctor that I felt this idle.

"Dr. Ranford, the patient in Room 506 asked for you," a nurse called from outside my office, pulling me out of my thoughts.

506? Was that one of mine?

I checked the records on my computer. It was the elderly man I had operated on during an emergency a while ago.

His surgery had gone well. As long as he kept taking his medication regularly, he would be discharged within about two weeks, which meant probably today or tomorrow.

I straightened up my coat and headed over. Sure enough, the elderly man was getting ready to leave. He had changed into his own clothes-simple, but clean.

When he saw me, he immediately walked over and grabbed my hand. "Dr. Ranford, I heard you insisted on doing my surgery that day. You even signed the high-risk consent form yourself just to save my life... Thank you so much!"

His heartfelt gratitude caught me off guard. I gave his hand a gentle squeeze and shook my head. "I'm a doctor. It's my job to save lives. You don't need to thank me."

"No, it's different. Another doctor might've hesitated. A delay would've meant I might never have woken up again," he said, shaking his head.

With trembling hands, he opened the bag beside his bed and pulled out a bright new banner. On it were the words "The Miracle Doctor".

I stared at the banner, and all I felt was a bitter ache in my chest.

"Thank you for the banner. But you're getting older, and without any children around to take care of you, it'd be better if you saved your money. How much did this cost to make? Let me reimburse you."

I had always been compassionate toward elderly patients like him.

There was another case-an old man who collapsed on the street. I was the one who operated on him, too. He could not pay the hospital bill afterward and disappeared. I ended up covering the cost myself and never tried to track him down.