This is a multi couple book
Vansh x Sanvi
Vansh Agarwal doesn't believe in love-only control. When Sanvi Sharma is thrust into his life, their engagement becomes a battlefield. She's everything he didn't want: independent, resilient, and utterly u...
I'm sorry I said I'll do daily updates but this chapter took too much research 😮💨
I'm exhausted guys but I hope you like it
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Hospitals have a rhythm, a steady pulse that drives the day forward, and as I make my way through the corridors of City Hospital, I can feel it humming all around me. The controlled chaos of doctors rushing between wards, nurses managing patient care, and the constant beep of monitors fills the air with a kind of white noise that I’ve grown used to over the years.
But today, there’s an undercurrent of tension, something off-kilter that has me on edge. I catch a glimpse of Dr. Aashna Khanna through the glass partition of the ER, her brows knitted in concentration as she huddles over a patient’s file. She’s been here since the crack of dawn, and I can tell by the stiff set of her shoulders that she’s running on fumes.
“Aashna,” I call out as I step into the room, keeping my voice steady and calm.
She looks up, her eyes narrowing as if she’s weighing whether or not she can spare a second to deal with me. “What?”
“Whoa, easy there, Dr. Khanna,” I say, raising my hands in mock surrender. “I’m here to help, not steal your patient.”
She lets out a sharp breath, clearly annoyed, and gestures toward the patient lying on the bed. “This guy has been a puzzle all morning. Fever, tachycardia, but all the usual suspects are coming up negative. I’ve run every test I can think of, and I’m still nowhere.”
I nod, stepping closer to review the chart she’s been scribbling on. It’s a mess of crossed-out notes and hastily written observations. Aashna is meticulous by nature, so seeing her this flustered is a clear sign she’s hitting her limit.
“Okay, let’s take a step back,” I suggest, my tone gentle but firm. “Run me through it from the top.”
She huffs but complies, rattling off the patient’s symptoms, test results, and her thought process as she worked through the possibilities. Her words are clipped, frustration lacing every sentence. I can tell she’s teetering on the edge of losing it, and I’m not about to let that happen. Not on my watch.
“So you’ve ruled out infection and cardiac issues,” I say, more to myself as I scan the results. “What about endocrine problems? Thyroid storm could present like this.”
“I considered that,” she snaps, crossing her arms over her chest. “But his TSH levels are normal.”
“Alright, but what about pheochromocytoma?” I suggest, meeting her gaze.
Her eyes flash with irritation, but I see the wheels turning. “His blood pressure hasn’t spiked, but...”
“It’s worth considering,” I finish for her. “We can order a metanephrine test to rule it out. In the meantime, let’s get an abdominal CT to check for any masses that could be causing these symptoms.”
