478-480

Chapter 478: True Fragrance from the Heart

Beep beep. 

Beep beep.  

While everyone was chatting, Christina’s pager went off again, buzzing at her waist.  

“Damn it! This never ends!”

Christina shoveled a big bite of food into her mouth, then jumped up, ready to bolt toward the ward.  

“Hold up, no rush!”  

Adam grinned. “Don’t you want to put an end to this miserable life of yours?”  

“You’ve got a way out?”  

Christina’s eyes lit up with hope.  

“Heh.”  

Adam chuckled mysteriously, not quite answering. “If you wrap things up now, you might still make it to Mr. Herman’s surgery. I mean, you did snag that one for yourself, right?”  

“Obviously!”  

Christina nodded, glancing at her pager. Seeing it wasn’t a 911 emergency, she plopped back down, flashing her sweetest smile. “Adam, you’ve got a plan?”  

“Mhm.”  

Adam hummed smugly. “Too bad someone hurt my feelings this morning.”  

“Sorry about that!”  

Christina apologized without missing a beat.  

“If I’d known about this surgery earlier, I would’ve picked it hands down,” Adam went on.  

“…”  

Christina’s lip twitched. She cut to the chase: “Adam, what’s it gonna take for you to help me out here?”  

“One rare surgery!”  

Adam dropped the act, holding up a finger. “Next time you stumble across a juicy case like this that I’ve got my eye on, you’ve gotta let me have it—just once!”  

“Yeah, in your dreams!”  

Christina’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You already swoop in and steal all the good surgeries! I finally dig up one for myself—risking a write-up, no less—and now you want me to just hand it over?”  

“Think it over.”  

Adam smirked. “If you ditch all this petty grunt work now, you’ve got a solid shot at joining the first-ever adult male teratoma removal. A surgery like that—do you really think you’ll get another chance at it? Trading some vague future rare case for a guaranteed first-of-its-kind right now… are you sure you’re the one losing out?”  

“Loss or no loss, you’re the one raking it in either way!”  

Christina nailed the truth without hesitation.  

“It’s a win-win for us.”  

Adam grinned shamelessly.  

“Christina, the patient comes first!”  

Liz snapped out of it and urged her on. Whether it was a win for both Adam and Christina or just Adam winning twice, it definitely wasn’t good news for her.  

“They’re not dying.”  

Christina shot her a look, then turned back to Adam. “Fine, I’m in—but only if I actually get in on the surgery afterward.”  

“Deal.”  

Adam nodded.  

“So, what’s your plan?”  

Christina pressed.  

“Heh.”  

Adam couldn’t hold back a laugh. “You’re totally missing the point. You think you pissed off Dr. Bailey and now she’s punishing you?”  

“Isn’t that it?”  

Christina froze. “Who else could possibly punish me like this…”  

Then it hit her. She gritted her teeth. “The nurses!”  

“Bingo.”  

Adam grinned. “Think back—how’d you tick off the nurses when you nabbed Mr. Herman’s case?”  

“For confidentiality, I didn’t tell them ahead of time that I was transferring Mr. Herman over. Are they seriously that petty?”  

Christina couldn’t believe it.  

“That’s it?”  

Adam snorted. “That’s not the version I heard. What are nurses to you? Not colleagues, huh? No need to explain anything to them—until you need a bedpan changed, then you’ll call?”  

“Whoa!”

George let out a gasp. “Christina, that’s straight-up insulting!”  

“What’s the big deal?”  

Christina got it but doubled down anyway. “Am I wrong? That’s their job! If they don’t want to be nurses, they can go to med school and become doctors!”  

“With that attitude, I can’t help you.”  

Adam shook his head.  

“I don’t need your help.”  

Christina smirked triumphantly. “Now that I know it’s not Dr. Bailey punishing me, I don’t have to bother with their pages. I’m going straight to Bailey to clear this up and join Mr. Herman’s surgery! Our deal’s off!”  

“You’re so naive.”  

Adam gave her a half-smile. “Looks like I’m upping the stakes now. To fix this mess for you, it’s one rare surgery plus a favor.”  

Oh, and here’s a quick plug—pat-reon:belamy20—right in the middle of the drama!  

“I think you’re the naive one. What if I don’t agree?”  

Christina laughed.  

“You think spilling the truth to Dr. Bailey will fix everything?”  

Adam shook his head with a grin. “Let me break this harsh reality to you: even if you tell her, Bailey’s not gonna step in to sort out your beef with the nurses. As long as they page you, you’re stuck running. Believe it or not.”  

“No way!”  

Christina was stunned.  

“Nurses are the backbone of this hospital. They handle all the dirty, exhausting work.”  

Adam reminded her. “Only a cocky intern like you would dare piss them off this bad. Ever hear of Dr. Benton?”  

“Nope.”  

Christina shook her head, clueless.  

“Exactly.”  

Adam grinned. “He was your predecessor—used to be a top surgical resident here at the medical center. But one day, he was in a foul mood, couldn’t keep his temper in check, and let it rip on the nurses. He chewed them out for writing orders in his place, saying he could do it himself—only he could do it! And oh boy, did he pay for it.  

The nurses hit back hard. Every patient encounter, they made him write every single order himself. They flat-out refused to trust his verbal instructions—everything had to be written, crystal clear. Sloppy handwriting? They’d grill him word by word. IV issues or tricky treatments? They’d ‘worry’ they couldn’t handle it and insist he show them how it’s done. Any tough case? They’d page him first—especially when he was sneaking a nap in the on-call room. They’d buzz him relentless!”  

“What happened after that?”  

George asked, hooked.  

“He was stubborn, just like Christina.”  

Adam glanced at her darkening expression and grinned. “Refused to apologize, took it all on himself, gritted his teeth through it—until he became a ‘former’ colleague of ours. Without the nurses’ support, everything took double the time and effort. You can only hold out so long.  

When the cracks showed, they were big. Exhausted, Dr. Benton slipped up—caused permanent harm to a patient that never should’ve happened. The review board didn’t yank his license, but the medical center ‘encouraged’ him to resign.”  

“That’s brutal.”

George sighed. “Guess you really can’t piss off the nurses.”  

“Wrong.”  

Adam corrected him. “It’s not about never upsetting any nurse—it’s about not screwing over the whole group. Especially the way Christina did, trash-talking them like they’re just bedpan changers. That’s the ultimate sin. She’s offended the entire nurse squad with that one. What’s happening now? It’s just the appetizer.”  

“Ugh!”

Liz gagged, catching a glimpse of the anal exam lube on Christina’s chest.  

“One rare surgery, plus a favor.”  

Christina’s face went from dark to pale. Meeting Adam’s teasing gaze, she caved. “Fine, I’m in.”

PS: Big thanks to “Defective Phone” for the tip!  

Chapter 479: A Burning Heart 

Nurses’ Station 

“Sorry about earlier.” 

Christina apologized to Nurse Debbie, whom she’d rubbed the wrong way before. 

“It’s not that hard to show us a little respect, you know?” Debbie said with a hint of sass. 

“We’re all coworkers here—mutual respect should be a given,” Adam chimed in with a grin, smoothing things over. 

“That’s the real reason Dr. Duncan’s so popular,” Debbie said, laughing. “It’s not just that he’s the best—it’s because he’s the kindest too!” 

Christina watched Adam and Debbie trade compliments like they were in some corporate love-fest. Inside, she was rolling her eyes so hard they might’ve gotten stuck, but she kept her face neutral. Adam’s story from earlier had really hit her hard. She couldn’t shake the feeling that the senior doctor he’d talked about was basically her in a nutshell. If it were her, she’d have done the exact same things—snapping at a nurse she didn’t vibe with when she was in a bad mood? Totally normal. Refusing to back down after? Oh, that was a given. She was a doctor, after all—high and mighty! 

But what she hadn’t seen coming was how nurses could pull sneaky, roundabout moves to get back at her—and totally get away with it. She had no choice but to swallow her pride and apologize. Sure, she was proud, but she wasn’t dumb. Risking her career over a bruised ego? Only an idiot would do that. 

“Alright, this severe diarrhea case—I’ll call another doctor to handle it,” Debbie said, practically glowing from Adam’s flattery. At his nudge, she finally let the grudge go. 

“Thanks!” Christina perked up. This didn’t just mean she was off the hook for endless grunt work—it also meant she could snag her first adult male teratoma removal surgery. Score! 

“Go for it!” Adam urged, even more pumped than she was. With surgery schedules clashing, this was a chance to cut losses and turn a profit—big time. 

Christina nodded, a grin spreading across her face as she bolted off. 

Hospital Room 

Adam was doing a pre-op check on Mrs. Griswold. 

“Alan, make sure they take that tube out of my throat right after surgery…” Mrs. Griswold was, as usual, nagging her husband with a laundry list of demands. 

“Take a break, huh?” Mr. Griswold muttered. 

“What did you just say?!” Her voice shot up a full octave. 

“You’ve got surgery soon—rest up and stop talking for a bit,” he said again, head down, after a long pause. 

“What, I can’t even talk now? Oh, that’s rich! You’re sick of me, aren’t you? You’re unbelievable…” Mrs. Griswold exploded. 

“Shut up!”  

This time, though, her husband—who’d been a pushover his whole life—didn’t just sit there and take it like he always had. He lifted his head and roared at her, his voice growing louder until it cracked with exhaustion. “I said shut up! You complain to me all day, blame me, nag me—every single day! Can’t you just be quiet for once?! Even just for a minute?! Can’t you go one second of your life without yapping?!” 

“Mr. Griswold, please calm down!” Adam had sensed trouble the moment he started talking and tried to intervene. A heart patient couldn’t handle that kind of outburst. 

But an honest man losing it? There was no stopping him. 

Beep beep beep. 

The monitor’s alarm blared. 

Mrs. Griswold—either from anger or shock—clutched her chest, gasping for air. 

“She’s having a heart attack!” 

“Four milligrams of morphine!” 

“Start nitroglycerin—ten micrograms per minute!” 

“Get the OR on the line—notify Dr. Green!” 

“Move fast, people—we’re heading to surgery now!” 

Adam took charge, cool as ever. 

“It’s all my fault,” Mr. Griswold said, snapping out of his rage. Seeing his wife like this, guilt washed over him. 

Adam glanced at him but didn’t say anything. Yeah, he’d triggered this mess, no doubt. But knowing their situation, Adam got it. Still, he wasn’t about to toss out a “Don’t worry, she’ll be fine” to comfort him. That heart—already through three surgeries—was now facing its fourth, under local anesthesia no less, since they couldn’t risk it stopping again. No one could predict how it’d go. And even if Adam was 100% sure, he wouldn’t say it. Giving hope only to crush it later? That’s the cruelest move—and the fastest way to get sued. No pro doctor would risk it. 

Operating Room 

“Huh, Mrs. Griswold’s holding up way better than I expected,” Adam said, surprised, as he opened her chest. 

“Yeah,” Leonard agreed from his usual spot as first assistant, giving Adam the lead. He took a look and nodded. “Some people are just built tougher. Most wouldn’t survive their first surgery, but here she is, powering through her fourth—and she’ll keep going strong.” 

“Wonder if Mr. Griswold’s happy or bummed about that,” Adam quipped. 

“He’s too stuck in his ways,” Leonard said, shaking his head. As Mrs. Griswold’s primary doc, he knew their family inside out. “If he’d been braver, it wouldn’t have come to this. Half her bossiness? He enabled it.” 

The anesthesiologist and nurses exchanged smirky, gossipy glances. 

“Back up!”  

In a split second, everything changed. Adam kicked into overdrive—like bullet time in a movie. A spark flared from the cauterizing tool in his hand. He shoved Leonard, who’d been hunched over the same spot, out of the way. 

Leonard stumbled, totally thrown off. “What the—?” 

“Red alert!” A nurse shouted as the room’s temp gauge screeched. 

Boom! A fireball erupted from Mrs. Griswold’s chest. If Adam hadn’t pushed Leonard, that flame would’ve hit him square in the face. 

“Activate fire protocol!” 

“Saline! Wet towels!” 

“Cut the power!” 

“Shut off the oxygen!” 

“Grab the airbag—assist breathing!” 

“Anyone not needed, get out now!” 

Adam barked orders, dousing the fire with saline, slapping on a wet towel, and moving fast to stop the bleeding. Shockingly, Mrs. Griswold took it like a champ. Her vitals stayed rock-solid—better than most young, healthy hearts could’ve managed. 

“You caught that before the alarm?” Leonard—used to chaos—recovered quick, jumping back to assist. Once they stabilized her, he voiced what everyone was thinking. 

“I’ve got decent eyes,” Adam said with a grin, stitching up the heart. “Reflexes aren’t bad either.” 

Everyone else: “…” 

Oh, and speaking of clutch moves—pat-reon:belamy20—this is the kind of drama that keeps us on our toes, right? 

Chapter 480: Laughing My Head Off as I Head Out 

Medical Center. 

Operating Room.  

“So why’d it catch fire this time?” Leonard asked, frowning.  

Hospital fires aren’t exactly rare. And operating room fires? They make up the bulk of them. It’s not even that surprising when you think about it. The OR’s got the perfect storm for a fire: flammable stuff, oxygen, and ignition sources.  

Let’s break it down. 

Flammable materials? Oh, plenty. High-proof alcohol is everywhere in a surgical suite that needs to be scrubbed down and disinfected. Surgical drapes cover the patient, leaving just the operating area exposed. Then there’s the piles of cotton balls and towels for soaking up blood—sometimes they even forget one inside a patient’s chest cavity. You can imagine how often those get used. Add in all the random supplies, rubber, and plastic bits, and yeah, it’s a tinderbox waiting to happen.  

Oxidizers? You bet. Oxygen’s the big one. ORs are packed with people working long, intense hours, so to keep everyone sharp and avoid oxygen shortages, they use a fancy system—think air conditioning pumped with a mix of medical-grade, high-concentration oxygen and regular air. It’s just enough to perk up the docs and nurses, keep them alert, and fight off fatigue. But that oxygen-rich air? It’s like a fire’s best friend.  

Then there’s nitrous oxide—laughing gas. It’s mostly phased out of ORs these days, but outside? Totally different story. Some folks—especially girls—love huffing it to numb out until they’re basically jelly. Compressed air for ventilators and other gear’s in the mix too. Oh, and the room’s usually a positive-pressure environment for non-contagious surgeries—higher pressure inside than out. Higher pressure lowers the ignition point, so things catch fire even easier.  

And ignition sources? Take your pick: electrocautery tools, surgical lasers, drills, sparks. Electricity and fire go hand in hand.  

That’s why ORs have crazy strict fire prevention rules. Fires just shouldn’t happen. And a patient’s chest catching fire during heart surgery? In this day and age, that’s straight-up unheard of. Leonard was totally thrown.  

“Mrs. Griswold had a sudden pneumothorax—a tiny tear in her lung tissue,” Adam piped up. He’d already run the scenario in his head. “High-purity oxygen from her breathing leaked out, hit a spark from the cautery tool, and landed on a dry hemostatic towel. In that oxygen-heavy environment, boom—fire.”  

Leonard raised an eyebrow. “You said earlier she got pissed off at Mr. Griswold?”  

“Yeah,” Adam nodded. “She was clutching her chest, struggling to breathe. The heart attack masked the pneumothorax symptoms.”  

Leonard mulled it over and gave a nod. Made sense. They’d confirm it once the surgery wrapped up and they could check her lung tissue.  

In Western medicine, tons of conditions share the same symptoms—sometimes dozens, even hundreds. Patients can have multiple issues at once, and the signs overlap. In emergencies, it’s way too easy to focus on the big problem and miss the sneaky secondary one. Even Dr. House next door gets tricked by that kind of thing all the time—running test after test, ruling stuff out, until he finally nails the real cause and fixes it.  

“Adam, didn’t you handle a case a while back where someone’s lung basically exploded?” Leonard asked with a grin.  

“Yup,” Adam chuckled. “Some kid was gaming, got wrecked by his little cousin, and lost it. His lung had a big bleb that popped—literally ‘blew up from anger.’ Gave a whole new meaning to ‘pissed off’ and ‘anger hurts.’ Looks like it’s not just the young ones who can blow a gasket, huh?”  

Leonard sighed and shook his head. Still, despite the chaos, the surgery went off without a hitch. Mrs. Griswold’s a tough one—her will to live was unreal.  

patreon:belamy20  

Family Waiting Area.  

Adam and Leonard stepped out together to update Mr. Griswold, who’d been pacing out there, about the surgery’s success—and the wild hiccup.  

“Her heart caught fire?” Mr. Griswold blinked, stunned.  

“Yeah,” Adam said, launching into the explanation. He walked him through it, and the post-op checks backed him up. “I know it sounds nuts, but it’s not as weird as you’d think. The surgery went great, and your wife’s gonna pull through just fine.”  

“Heh… hehehe… HAHAHA!”  

Mr. Griswold slapped his hands over his face, his expression all twisted up. Then he couldn’t hold it in—started with a quiet chuckle, then a giggle, and finally full-on belly laughs. When he noticed Adam and Leonard staring, he tried to dial it back to a snicker, but by the end, he was cracking up again.  

“Heh, so in her fourth heart surgery, her heart catches fire, and she still survives? She’s gonna be fine after this? HAHAHA!”  

Adam and Leonard exchanged a look—half amused, half exasperated. Clearly, this “good news” wasn’t what Mr. Griswold had been hoping for.  

“She’s like… like some kind of mysterious monster!” he said, waving a finger in the air, grinning ear to ear. “The kind that never dies!”  

“Ahem,” Adam coughed lightly. “Mr. Griswold, maybe you should take a breather, process this? We can chat more later if you—”  

“Wait? No! No way! I’m done waiting!” Mr. Griswold shook his head like a madman, jumped up, shoved his wife’s purse into Adam’s hands, grabbed his coat, and started dancing toward the exit.  

“Tell her—yeah, tell her—even without me, she’ll keep on living just fine! HAHAHA!”  

A few steps out, he spun back, flashed a goofy salute at Adam and Leonard, yanked the door open, and strode off, laughing like a lunatic.  

“Hope we don’t need to call psych for him,” Leonard muttered, shaking his head.  

“Nah,” Adam said with a wry smile. “He’s just letting it all out. I get it.”  

Oh, he got it alright. Back when he first crossed over to this world and found out his girlfriend was the infamous throat-slitting pro, Magic Amy? Those days of walking on eggshells were brutal. After busting his ass to turn himself into a drama king just so she’d dump him, the moment he was free, he’d screamed his head off too. Probably looked just as unhinged as Mr. Griswold.  

The more pent-up you are, the crazier the release. Totally normal—not nuts. He’d calm down once the high wore off.  

“Hey, isn’t that first-ever adult male teratoma removal surgery happening this afternoon too?” Leonard glanced at his watch and stood. “It’s probably still going. Wanna swing by?”  

“Sure,” Adam agreed, no hesitation.  

Observation Room.  

The surgery was a long one. A bunch of docs who’d snagged standing-room spots got paged out before it was over, so by the time Adam and Leonard rolled in, it was crowded but doable.  

Adam peeked in and spotted Christina standing there as second assistant. He smirked—score! A rare surgery to watch and a favor in the bank.  

(End of Chapter)