The doctor gave her a stern glance. “Well, miss, if you want to be admitted, you need to pay. But after seeing your condition, I don’t think you can afford the treatment here!”
“But doctor, please…”
Before Anna could complete her sentence, the doctor cut her off. “Can you please stop shouting! I don’t care whether you die in pain! Remember, no money, no treatment. And if you continue acting like this, I will kick you out of here!”
Anna was about to give birth on the doorstep. She thought of requesting the doctor once again, but before she could say anything, he slammed the clinic door in her face and went inside.
Dejected, Anna decided to go to another hospital. However, the pain was so intense that she couldn’t move a bit. So she just sat there, gripping her stomach and looking for someone to assist her.
Luckily, a kind doctor came out of the clinic and offered her help. “Please come with me, ma’am,” he told Anna as he approached her. “I’ll save your child no matter what!” With that, the doctor escorted her inside, set up a separate ward for her, and ensured that Anna’s delivery went smoothly.
Not long after, Anna delivered a baby boy, but the baby was premature and had to be placed in the NICU immediately.
Poor Anna was so exhausted after the delivery that she didn’t wake up until the next morning when she discovered the obnoxious doctor by her side. “What the hell? Since when did this clinic start admitting beggars like you?!” He looked at her angrily.
“Anyway, It’s not too late to clean the mess. So get up and get out of the hospital!” he added and started “escorting” Anna out of the hospital.
Luckily, at that moment, the kind doctor, Dr. Paul Warner, came in. “Dr. Morgan, what are you doing? She gave birth yesterday, and she’s still weak!” he retorted.
Dr. Morgan gave a fierce glance to Dr. Warner. “Stay out of this, Paul! I’m your senior, and I know what’s best for the clinic. We can’t admit her without the fees! That’s a rule!”
“If that’s the case, I’ll pay her fees,” Dr. Warner said firmly. “But I’m not letting her leave until she and her baby recover completely!”
Dr. Morgan burst out laughing. “You’re such a knucklehead, Paul. I don’t think your bank account will allow it!”
“You don’t need to worry about that doctor,” Dr. Warner continued. “I will pay the bills by tomorrow morning. Mark my words!”
“Alright! But if you’re not able to pay the fees, I’ll kick her out,” Dr. Morgan almost yelled and walked away.
The next day, Anna was on her way to the washroom when she met Dr. Morgan again. “I checked with the accounts department, and the payment hasn’t been made. So pack your bags and get out of this place ASAP!” he ordered her.
“Doctor, just give me until the afternoon. My husband is on his way, and he’ll take care of everything,” Anna assured him.
Dr. Morgan sighed and rolled his eyes. “Do you really want me to believe that? Aren’t you just making up excuses so that you can stay here?”
“Well, doctor, if I’m making excuses, you can throw me out of here in the afternoon!” Anna said firmly and walked away.
To Dr. Morgans’ surprise, Anna’s husband actually showed up at the clinic that afternoon. But when Dr. Morgan saw him, he couldn’t believe his eyes!
“Mr. Carter, you?” he inquired, surprised.
“Yes, David. It’s me. My wife told me everything, and I can’t believe you treated a pregnant woman like that!”
It turned out that Anna was going to give birth in Germany, but her labor began early while her husband was away on a business trip. Anna considered approaching this luxury clinic for assistance because her husband was the primary sponsor there.
Since the pain was severe, she didn’t waste time changing her clothes and went there in her nightgown, forgetting her phone in the process. Dr. Warner kindly offered her his phone, allowing her to contact her husband.
When Dr. Morgan saw her outside the hospital, he mistook her for a poor woman and threatened to kick her out. But now that Dr. Morgan knew Anna wasn’t any random woman asking for help, he realized he had invited huge trouble for himself.
“I had no idea she was your wife, Sir,” Dr. Morgan said quietly. “I apologize for the mistreatment. ”
“How does it matter, David?” Mr. Carter almost yelled at him. “How can you behave like that with any pregnant woman!”
“Well, Sir. I won’t…”
Before Dr. Morgan could finish, Mr. Carter cut him off. “No, David. Nothing can explain what you did. And you should be punished for it. Therefore, I’m firing you! I hope this way you’ll learn your lesson.”
“But Sir, then the maternity ward won’t have a head doctor. Moreover, there aren’t many senior doctors here, and it may take the clinic some time to find one!” Dr. Morgan expressed his thoughts. “So, at the very least, let me stay here till then!”
Mr. Carter smiled at him. “You don’t need to worry about that, doctor! I have appointed someone as the head already,” he said and called Dr. Warner inside. “Let me introduce you to Dr. Warner, the new head.”
Dr. Morgan was shocked. “But Sir, he’s still young, and he’s inexperienced!”
“Well, he deserves to be a doctor and the head, considering how he decided to aid a pregnant woman without considering her status or whether she would have money!”
Dr. Morgan didn’t utter a word. He stood silently with his head bowed down.
Mr. Carter continued. “I don’t think you qualify as a doctor, David. A doctor would always try their best to save a patient! So, please leave and don’t come back here ever again!”
Dr. Morgan walked out of the clinic, embarrassed by what he’d done.
What can we learn from this story?
Don’t judge a book by its cover.
Learn to be humble and kind like Dr. Warner.
Good people always get goodness in return.
Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.
MY HUSBAND LEFT ME AND OUR KIDS FOR HIS MISTRESS – I WAS FURIOUS AND TOOK MY REVENGE.
The bitterness tasted like ash in my mouth. How could he? How could he just walk away, leaving us like discarded toys? Mark, my husband of fifteen years, the man I’d built a life with, had traded us in for a shiny, new model. A twenty-year-old, no less. A coworker. I’d suspected something was off, the late nights, the secretive phone calls, but I’d pushed it aside, trusting him. Foolish me.
The day I caught them, at that cheap motel on the outskirts of town, was seared into my memory. The look on his face, a mixture of guilt and something disturbingly close to relief, still haunted my dreams. He didn’t even try to deny it, just mumbled some pathetic excuse about “finding himself.”
The divorce was a whirlwind of lawyers and paperwork, a cold, clinical process that stripped away the remnants of our life together. He’d agreed to everything, too quickly, too easily. I was left with a pittance, barely enough to cover a few months’ rent.
Then came the real insult. He’d put our marital home, the house where we’d raised our kids, the house filled with memories, up for sale. And he’d listed it for an absurdly inflated price, far exceeding the online valuation used during the financial order. The judge had signed off on it, seemingly oblivious to the glaring discrepancy.
I was left scrambling, barely able to make ends meet, while he was raking in a fortune. Seeing that listing online, the photos of our home, now staged and impersonal, was like a knife to the heart. It was a constant reminder of everything I’d lost.
But the final straw was when his new fiancée, the mistress, announced on social media that they were buying a “dream home” because they were expecting a baby. A baby! He was building a new life, a new family, while my kids were struggling, while I was drowning in debt. The injustice of it all was suffocating.
I was consumed by rage, a burning desire for revenge. I wanted him to feel the same pain, the same despair, that he’d inflicted on me. I wanted him to understand the consequences of his actions.
It wasn’t until I visited my former mother-in-law, a woman who had always been kind to me, that a plan began to form. She was as devastated by Mark’s actions as I was. We sat in her cozy kitchen, sipping tea, and she told me stories of Mark’s childhood, of his father’s own infidelity, a pattern repeating itself.
Then, she mentioned a small, overlooked detail. A safety deposit box, inherited from Mark’s father, containing… well, she wasn’t entirely sure. She’d always assumed it was just old documents.
The next day, I went to the bank. I’d remembered Mark mentioning the box once, years ago, but he’d dismissed it as unimportant. I presented myself as his legal representative, using a power of attorney document I’d obtained during the divorce proceedings, a document Mark had signed without reading thoroughly.
Inside the box, nestled amongst faded photographs and yellowed letters, was a stock certificate. A substantial amount of shares in a company that had recently skyrocketed in value. Mark, in his haste to leave, had completely forgotten about it.
I sold the shares.
The money, a significant sum, allowed me to pay off my debts, secure a comfortable apartment for myself and the kids, and even put a down payment on a small business.
I didn’t tell Mark. I didn’t gloat. I simply moved on, building a new life for myself and my children. The satisfaction wasn’t in the money, but in the knowledge that I had taken back control, that I had turned his betrayal into my liberation. And maybe, just maybe, he’d learn that some things, like family, are worth more than any fleeting infatuation.
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