In My Dreams

“Guess who’s lecturing tomorrow for Surgery!” Anne said excitedly to me. I knew who it was, and rightly so. I have been waiting for this lecture since the year started.

“I know who it is, so quit dangling the information in front of me, stupid,” I shot her down jokingly. “Seriously, how can I not know about it? I know his clinic hours, for God’s sake. And yeah, I heard how creepy that sounded.” Anne and Carmen laughed with me and my obsession.

Dr. Karl Anderson was my Dr. McDreamy. “McDreamy” because that’s where he belongs: in my dreams. He only ever had two lectures with our batch before, and it was way back during freshman year. The first time I saw him, I was stunned. He was probably twenty years my senior based on his credentials, but he was smoking hot and looked not at all his age. Yes, he had crow’s feet that made his eyes crinkle so adorably and yes, his sideburns are turning gray, but there was something about him that made him so… delicious. He was not tall nor did he seem to have abs that were to die for, but he was lean and hot all the same. And yes, he fit my taste for snobbish looks and kind smiles.

After that first lecture in first year, I went to my computer first thing and went on to activate my mad online stalking skills (I share these skills with Anne, thank you very much). And what I unearthed made him look even hotter in my eyes. Alright, I may or may not have just Googled his name. He was so accomplished, with an established and flourishing surgical practice, doing pro bono cardiovascular surgeries and papers on new surgical approaches on the side just because he can.

The doctor review site I found even had several comments from some of his previous patients who claimed he was compassionate, empathic, and went through lengths to ensure that the patients knew exactly what was going on with their child (oh yeah, didn’t I mention he worked with kids that had heart problems? *sigh*). I belong in the medical profession now and I know now how other doctors usually lack these qualities, which only made me admire him more. Busy surgeons with huge, established, and practically sparkling surgical practices are gods who don’t waste time interacting with patients too much. Dr. Anderson being the kind surgeon who hugged his kid patients after fixing their hearts and took time out of his busy schedule to take pictures with the cute kids just scored himself the title of “man of my dreams”. (The pictures aren’t for advertising. There are pictures of him and his patients online posted in blogs of the children’s parents who gush at how compassionate he is!) And he would be lecturing tomorrow which meant free creepy ogling time for me! I figured I would just do some advanced reading tonight since I probably would just be swooning and sighing all over him tomorrow, imagining dirty and naughty things that started with “Doctor, I have a problem”. I know, I’m creepy as hell.

The next morning, I was rushing once again. I woke up early despite having to finish an entire chapter on congenital heart diseases, mind you, but I figured I wanted to look extra special today since I was going to see Dr. Anderson and I wanted him to see a pretty face if ever he looked to my direction later this afternoon (fingers crossed!). I put on some eye liner and mascara on top of my usual cheek tint and lip gloss, and admired my chic look in the mirror before I noticed that I was almost running late (putting on eye liner was NOT my thing and it was an effort to get them to look perfect).

I had to flag a cab to get to school, and saw the elevator doors about to close when I got to the lobby. “Please hold!” I cried, desperately wishing the person inside would hear me. The other two elevators were high up, and it would probably take away minutes of my time waiting for another one. “God, thank you!” I said aloud gratefully once I saw the doors reopen.

It was Luke inside, smiling widely at me as he pressed the elevator button with a finger.“’Morning!” he greeted as I walked in, blushing ridiculously.

“’Morning,” I mumbled back. I can’t believe he is seeing me again on a great rush!

“You look different,” he said as the doors closed, his eyes staring at me like I was the only girl in the room. (Well, yeah, I was the only other person in the elevator, but you know what I mean). I smiled shyly at him, not knowing whether the statement was a compliment that I should thank him for. That was typical me, shutting down whenever I was in the vicinity of someone I liked a lot. My friends and I had a name for it, since both Anne and I have it. “Plant potential”. Because we practically shut down like mere ornamental plants in a room whenever someone we were really attracted to walks in; we just stand there and forget what to say due to severe nervousness. We both recognized it was absurd.

We reached IT guy’s – er, Luke’s – floor in awkward silence after that. “I like what you did with your eyes,” he said to me before getting off. I think I managed to mutter a thank you on his way out, and I think I saw him smile again before the doors closed.