Clay Matthews entered the hospital and followed the corridors. He carefully read the signs to find his way to his office. He knew he would have to if he didn't want to get lost. Clay always hated hospital set ups-even as a doctor used to them-he still found hospital layouts to be rather confusing. Clay was a rather young doctor, and many people didn't think that a young doctor could be any good at the profession, but the truth was, Dr Clay Matthews was one of the best, although he would never tell anyone that. He felt it was cocky and presumptuous to admit his ability.
Clay was relaxed and he was able to relate well to his patients. He knew his patients liked him, and he WAS known to befriend them on occasion. Clay ran his hand through his blonde hair, grinning to himself, a slow, easy smile. He was a very attractive man and his female patients often felt more comfortable with him than another doctor.
Finally finding his office, his name on the door, he slipped inside, leaving the door open as he set about organizing the office to his liking, putting out a few personal touches to give the office a little something that said "Clay Matthews works here." This would be new to him because he had been a military doctor and he had traveled a lot. It would be his first permanent living situation, and he was excited.
Satisfied with the comfortable feeling that the office now gave off, instead of the stiff, impersonal feeling it had held before, he hung his qualifications on the wall behind the desk. Standing back again and giving the room one last glance to be sure he had gotten everything the way he wanted it, he turned, and left the room intent on seeing where he was needed, closing the door as he went.
Clay was relaxed and he was able to relate well to his patients. He knew his patients liked him, and he WAS known to befriend them on occasion. Clay ran his hand through his blonde hair, grinning to himself, a slow, easy smile. He was a very attractive man and his female patients often felt more comfortable with him than another doctor.
Finally finding his office, his name on the door, he slipped inside, leaving the door open as he set about organizing the office to his liking, putting out a few personal touches to give the office a little something that said "Clay Matthews works here." This would be new to him because he had been a military doctor and he had traveled a lot. It would be his first permanent living situation, and he was excited.
Satisfied with the comfortable feeling that the office now gave off, instead of the stiff, impersonal feeling it had held before, he hung his qualifications on the wall behind the desk. Standing back again and giving the room one last glance to be sure he had gotten everything the way he wanted it, he turned, and left the room intent on seeing where he was needed, closing the door as he went.