TO-DAY’S SHORT STORY
“THE DOCTOR’S ORDERS”
(By
H.M.)
This is a true story about a doctor who lives in Hollywood. It’s a simple yarn, and you’d hardly term it important in any way. But I liked it when I heard it, so I pass it on.
We’ll give the doctor the name of Jones, which will do a? well as any. He’s a nice guy, this Doctor Jones, as doctors go.
He has a cheery smile, and he doesn’t us big words when they aren’t necessary.
And his charges do not affect the heart, and his suggested remedies include more golf pills than coated pills.
The doctor sat one morning in his Beverley Hills office, studying the very latest golf magazines, when his nurse entered from the outer office.
“There is a Mr Smith outside to see you,” she announced. “Mr Smith says he’s an actor, although he looks as though he’s strictly alone in that opinion. Says he wants to see you about his wife, and refuses to tell me anything about the case.” Youngish fellow, the actor type. You knew that, whatever happened, he would always try to look well-groom-ed. He spoke swiftly. “Dr Jones,” he stated, “I must tell you at once that I haven’t any money.” The physician was properly startled. This type of information usually came after the bill was presented; not before. He smiled. “That’s common enough complaint these days,” he returned. “But suppose we forget the money angle for a moment, and tell me what’s on your mind.” Mr Smith dropped into a chair. “Doctor,” he began, “my wife is a very sick woman. She suffers from headaches that are fairly driving her mad. I love her devotedly, and I want so much to see her get an even break in life. “But because of my circumstances, it is almost impossible for me to get her medical attention she needs so desperately. “I’m an actor. I’m a good actor, I think, and I’d prove it if I could only get a chance. But you know the chances here in Hollywood. “While I’m waiting for a break, I must take whatever extra work is thrown in my way. I must eke out a living as best I can.
“Around the studios—wherever I go —I hear stories of your decency, your understanding, your willingness to help a fellow human being. “So I come to you and pour out my heart. I beg. Yes, gladly and willingly, I beg you to help me. “Come with me and see my wife. She is unable to leave the house now, and I plead that you come to her. Please, doctor please—as soon as I am able I will pay you and pay you well.” Doctor Jones’ reply was characteristic. He stood up and reached for his hat. “You didn’t have to go through all that, old man,” he stated kindly. “I admire your love and I admire your honesty. I’ll be more than happy to examine your wife for you. “Let’s go.” Well, I am not going to burden you with too many details in this little story. Sufficient to relate that Mrs Smith was indeed a very sick woman. And Doctor Jones became extremely interested in the case. As a matter of fact, he took care of the patient as though she represented a 25,000dollar fee. It was purely a charity case, and Doctor Jones knew it was a million-to-one he’d never be paid for his efforts. But, very frankly, he didn’t care. He admired the husband’s tremendous love and devotion. He admired the man’s frankness and complete honesty. He admired the struggle these two were making against tremendous odds. So he plunged into the case with every ounce of skill at his command. As often happens in such a situation, the plight of this man and woman became something of an obession with Doctor Jones. It was as though he had been handed a sacred duty to perform—and he was going to perform it, regardless of cost. Mrs Smith required costly medicines; Doctor Jones ordered and paid for them himself. A private nurse was required for two weeks on one occasion; Doctor
Jones arranged for the nurse and paid her himself.
Twice Mr Smith phoned at four in the morning, and sobbingly states that his wife was in agony. And each time Doctor Jones dressed himself and raced to her side.
Ask me exactly why the good doctor did all this for two people who had been total strangers, and I cannot supply the answer. Ask the doctor why, and it’s probable he couldn’t tell you himself.
All he knew was that this man and woman had grown to depend upon him completely.
And, although the weeks turned into months, and the situation did not change, he could not and would not let them down.
Just recently, just before noon, Mr Smith called Doctor Jones on the telephone. He was so excited he could scarcely speak.
He was calling with the bigg®t news in the world. He had been given a stock job in a studio at a salary of 75 dollars a week!
“Do you know what this means?” he cried, over and over. “Oh, doctor, do you know what this means?”
The physician was almost as thrilled as the other man. “Say, that’s swell!” he enthused. “You have a right to be a very happy man.” Mr Smith almost leaped through
the phone. “Happy! he echoed, joyously, “Gee, doc., I’m going nuts with happiness! Nobody was ever as happy as I am this very minute!
“Do you realise, doc., what ' this money means to my wife? Now I can afford to take her to a GOOD doctor!”
Permanent link to this item
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Bibliographic details
Te Awamutu Courier, Volume 66, Issue 5600, 2 April 1943, Page 6
Word Count
953TO-DAY’S SHORT STORY Te Awamutu Courier, Volume 66, Issue 5600, 2 April 1943, Page 6
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