May 28, 2006 10:12
Word traveled fast at PPTH, and hushed whispers of a beautiful woman admitted downstairs seemed to never fail to leak up to Oncology. It might have been that his staff knew his weakness for beautiful women and wanted desperately to have him get laid, because the longer he went without, the more irritable (and like the tyrant over in Diagnostics, some said) he became.
Whatever the reason, Dr James Wilson heard the rumors, and as expected he went to investigate on his own, telling himself there was always the possibility of cancer. Yes. Cancer could hide in the most unlikely places...It was his duty to check it out, yes. Chase took the admission? Wilson frowned as he flipped through the patient chart. Gash on right calf. Apparent fall. Some confusion, which WIlson automaticly translated to delusions.
Delusions. Again. What fun. Wilson wasn't really liking that trend.
Clearing his throat, he stepped into the patient's room. Phedre. He smiled, even before he saw her because Wilson always smiled when visiting patients. And when he saw her...well. She was even more beautiful that he ever would have imagined on his own. She was the kind of killer beautiful that woul make men cheat...not that Wilson had anyone to cheat on...anymore.
phedre no delaunay,
dr. james wilson