Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 85211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
God, I’d never wanted a man more in my life.
Everyone in the audience clapped except for two people.
Cleo and Deacon.
Deacon moved his hand to hers on the armrest and he squeezed it, and in silence, they shared a moment, just looking at each other, savoring all the love and pride they felt for the person they created together.
Dex didn’t adopt a persona or put on a show. He was totally himself. His arms were relaxed on the armrests of his chair, his knees were apart just as they were when he sat on the couch and talked to his patients. Under the lights of the stage, his eyes were brilliant likes stars that shone on the darkest night, except it wasn’t dark at all. They just glowed on their own. His hard jawline had a slight shadow because of the lights, giving his chiseled features an even more carved look, and his light-brown hair was perfectly styled because he refrained from his urge to touch it like he usually did when he was thinking about something. He was all smiles most of the time, the most down-to-earth, humble, easygoing guy on the planet.
Would I ever find a guy who could compete with Dex Hamilton?
Never.
George regarded him. “You were finished with residency well before you turned twenty-five, becoming the youngest cardiac surgeon in the world. How does that feel?”
Dex gave a shrug. “I’m just as qualified as other surgeons, and they’re just as qualified as I am, even if they graduated at a later age. I don’t think it really matters.”
“Come on, it matters,” George said with a laugh.
The audience laughed too.
Dex dropped his smile for a moment. “You know why most of my patients come to me and no one else?” Now he turned serious, like this was important to him. “It’s not because of my education at Stanford, Harvard, Johns Hopkins, all those pretty diplomas that hang on my wall. It’s because of the other things on my wall—the photos with the kids from South Africa, the Christmas cards I get every year even though they got their surgery years ago, the emails I still get from patients, giving me an update on their lives and asking me about mine. It’s because they know I care, that every patient I have is treated like a member of my own family, that I’m not encouraging surgery unless it’s absolutely necessary, not pushing them into it so I can buy a Ferrari. It’s not because doctors aren’t qualified, but frankly, they just don’t care. I don’t want any aspiring physician to watch this and think they aren’t smart enough to pursue medicine, because brilliance is a much smaller component of health care than people realize. It’s being completely and totally invested in the well-being of the patient, because that makes you go the extra mile, that makes you motivated to do better and better.”
There was a loud round of applause from the audience at his response.
He wasn’t my family member, but I felt the same sense of pride, the same sense of gratitude that we had a person like this in the world. Because of people like him, people like me got to live.
George left the applause die down before he continued. “Any theories about why you are the way you are? We’ve had your brother, Dr. Derek Hamilton, on here many times, so there’s obviously a genius gene in the pool, but how do you explain your philanthropy, your generosity? Why are you so committed to helping people when others are more concerned with their bottom line?”
Dex usually fired off his answers pretty quickly, but this time, he took a long pause before he responded. “I think there are two reasons.” He held up two fingers. “I was raised by really generous parents. Most people know that my father is an oncologist and researcher, so watching him help people was obviously a huge influence. He never really brought his work home with him, but whenever I asked about his day, he would always focus on his patient care and how he was helping people. He never talked about his Nobel Prize or anything like that. And the nights he would come home and go straight to his room…I knew he’d lost someone. And every single time, it affected him with the same pain. It didn’t matter how many times it happened; it was a new cut every single time. It was like losing someone he’d known forever. And he goes to every single funeral of the patients he can’t save. Basically, I was raised by a family that believes it’s our moral responsibility to help people. We were blessed with the gift of intelligence, and we need to use it to help humankind.” Another round of applause came, interrupting him. “And my mom is the same way, just in a different facet. Her entire life is geared toward helping people, not with their health care, but in other ways. And doing good things for people brings her inherent happiness, which was passed down to me. There’s no way I can say I am the way I am without including them, because they’re the people who made me and raise me. And my brother Derek has been a huge influence too because he’s a couple years older than me, and he’s always been a role model. He doesn’t work in medicine, but he has a huge impact on humanity as well. I could never picture doing anything else with my life, other than helping people.” People clapped again.