Damian clung his hands to the stretcher Naomi was laid, helping the nurses push a little faster. Though the nurses flinched to signal him off, they had little or no guts to tell influential Damian what to do.
“Mr. Damian?” A middle-aged man with strands of gray on his bushy mustache, covered with a white coverall, with a portable stethoscope in his palm called Damian from behind.
Damian looked back through the corners of his right eye and squinted his eye as though he was racking up his memory to know how he met the Doctor that just called him.
One thing that never came by surprise was his popularity almost everywhere he stepped in.
The Doctor strode to meet the moving nurses and Damian.
“Good evening, sir. I am Williams MD.” He kept jogging in action while trying to get Damian famil
