307-309

Chapter 307: Love Her? Then Cut Yourself First  

"Are you interested in working in the ER?"  

Dr. Susan Lewis's invitation was clear. "I think you're naturally suited for it."  

"Thanks for the compliment."  

Adam smiled but declined politely. "But I prefer being a surgeon."  

"Alright then."  

Susan didn’t insist and left it at that.  

In the hospital hierarchy, surgeons were at the top, while ER doctors were at the bottom. Naturally, the best talents aimed for the top.  

It couldn’t be helped.  

The ER had relatively low pay, an overwhelming workload, immense pressure, and the highest patient mortality rate of any department—because many patients were already beyond saving when they arrived.  

In this kind of environment, ER doctors had a high likelihood of mental breakdowns.  

Adam had heard a story about the previous attending physician of the medical center's ER. One moment, he was leading his team in an intense rescue operation. The next, he went completely silent, started stripping off his clothes, and walked out of the hospital completely naked, disappearing without a trace.  

Apparently, everyone at the scene was so shocked that they just stood there watching, unable to react.  

Afternoon 

Adam went to the nurse’s station to pick up patient records when he ran into Meredith, who, as always, was carrying a cooler wherever she went.  

"Still not here yet?"  

Adam smiled.  

"In TV shows, American cops always show up last to clean up the mess. Turns out that’s not just made up," Meredith complained. "Their efficiency is so slow. If it were us, the patient would be dead by now."  

"That’s why they started heavily sponsoring those crime dramas," Adam joked. "Mark my words, soon you’ll see all sorts of heroic police shows where no one escapes justice. Not only will justice arrive, but it’ll never be late."  

"Heh."  

Meredith chuckled, then looked at Adam with her warm, expressive eyes. "Liz didn’t do it on purpose. Don’t be mad at her."  

"Whether it was on purpose or not doesn’t matter," Adam said coolly. "As long as it’s not directed at me."  

"I just can’t believe it."  

Meredith looked at him with a strange expression. "A gorgeous woman like Liz, and you treat her like this? Most guys wouldn’t have the heart to do it."  

"That’s exactly why she’s so immature."  

Adam scoffed. "I’m not her dad."  

"Dad?"  

Meredith gave him a weird look. "Why would you bring up being her dad?"  

Wouldn’t a normal relationship be about being a boyfriend, not a father figure?  

"Ahem."  

Adam cleared his throat, lifted the patient file in his hand, and said, "I’ve got patients to see. Gotta go."  

"Oh, my God!"  

Meredith didn’t respond to him. Instead, her eyes widened as she looked past Adam, let out a gasp, and grabbed her cooler before running outside.  

"What the hell?"  

Adam turned to look and saw a car parked haphazardly at the hospital entrance. A man covered in blood from the waist down was stumbling toward the entrance.  

"Call security," Adam instructed, then quickly stepped forward.  

This guy was probably the rapist.  

Holding out this long before coming to the hospital—he was a tough one.  

The man was placed on a stretcher and rushed toward the OR, with security arriving to handcuff him just in case.  

Since the case was linked to that brave girl, and Meredith was the first to make contact, Dr. Burke, their supervising attending, allowed her team to take over the surgery.  

Dr. Burke was in the middle of another operation, so the responsibility fell to Miranda Bailey, their resident-in-charge.  

Adam and Meredith arrived at the same time, so technically, he could’ve been included in the surgery. However, Bailey only asked Meredith to scrub in and didn’t even mention Adam.  

"Dr. Bailey, I’d like to assist in this surgery."  

Surgery wasn’t a pop quiz—you didn’t wait to be called on. Adam never missed an opportunity to gain hands-on experience.  

"Sorry, there’s no space in the OR."  

Bailey rejected him without hesitation.  

Adam frowned. That was a weak but effective excuse.  

Operating rooms varied in size. Besides the lead surgeon, there were anesthesiologists, scrub nurses, and sometimes even interns observing for learning experience.  

Meredith was in that category, and Adam was asking for the same opportunity.  

If the OR was small, it made sense to limit the number of people inside.  

But they were using OR 2, which was a large surgical suite designed for major, multi-disciplinary procedures.  

A penile reconstruction surgery was overkill for such a big room. There was plenty of space—enough to fit a few more people comfortably.  

Saying there was no room was simply an excuse.  

But since Bailey had made the call, there was nothing Adam could do.  

The lead surgeon had the final say. If they claimed there wasn’t enough room, even if they were performing surgery in an open courtyard, they could still say your breathing was too loud and distracting.  

And even if he forced his way in, without the surgeon’s approval, he’d just be standing uselessly at the back, with zero visibility and no chance to assist.  

Watching Meredith follow Bailey inside with the cooler, Adam turned and walked away.  

Clearly, not everyone was taken in by Adam’s charm.  

Unlike others, Bailey didn’t care about looks, and to her, Adam’s charisma was meaningless.  

It annoyed him a little, but he quickly brushed it off.  

He wasn’t Benjamin Franklin—not everyone had to like him.  

If he was arrogant enough to think otherwise, then that would be a real problem.  

Emergency Room 

"Dr. Duncan, can you ask the nurse to step outside?"  

Inside a private room, a shy young man looked uneasy.  

"Sure."  

Adam immediately understood and signaled the nurse to leave. Once they were alone, he said, "Alright, now show me why you’re in the ER."  

The young man hesitated, then removed the bundle of clothes he had been clutching, revealing his blood-soaked pants.  

"What happened?"  

Adam’s eyes widened as he studied the man. Could I have misjudged? Was this guy actually the rapist? That’d be too much of a coincidence.  

"I… I recently started dating a new girlfriend," the young man stammered. "She’s Jewish. I’m her first non-Jewish boyfriend, and she’s… a little uncomfortable with it."  

As he spoke, he pulled down his bloody pants.  

"So you decided to circumcise yourself to please her?"  

Adam’s lips twitched when he saw the wound.  

"I looked up the procedure online and sterilized the knife beforehand…"  

The young man’s face burned with shame.  

"Ah, yes. The internet—the great equalizer," Adam said sarcastically. "Now anyone can be a doctor. If everyone followed your example, we’d all be out of a job."  

With that, he turned to leave.  

"Wait! What do I do now?"  

The young man panicked.  

Adam smiled. "Stay put. I’ll go get a plastic surgeon for you."  

Chapter 308: Are You Discriminating Against Me? 

"Thank you."  

The shy young man sincerely expressed his gratitude.  

"You're welcome."  

Adam smiled, closed the hospital room door behind him, and almost couldn't contain the amusement in his eyes.  

He really wanted to tell the shy young man, "Don't thank me—thank Howard."  

But professionalism held him back, so he kept it to himself.  

In The Big Bang Theory, when Sheldon's twin sister Missy came to visit him, Howard, Raj, and Leonard were all instantly smitten with her. They competed fiercely, each trying to win what they believed was the "right" to date her.  

Raj, after drinking, started acting wild and talked to Missy about the Romance of the Three Kingdoms, referring to it as a legendary book. He also mentioned a certain indescribable book, claiming it was one of China's greatest contributions to the world, and told Missy not to hold back.  

Howard, as a Jewish man, refused to be outdone. He immediately boasted that his people had invented circumcision, also telling Missy not to hold back—his face full of pride as if he were expecting applause.  

Now, seeing this shy young man genuinely wanting to thank Howard, the first thing that popped into Adam’s mind was that scene. It was so vivid that he almost lost control.  

It was just too perfect—complete with top-tier sound effects in his head.  

"I understand. I'll have someone from plastic surgery come over," Susan said, shaking her head.  

Technically, Adam could handle this himself, but unless Shani temporarily assigned him to the plastic surgery department, he really wasn’t in a position to step in.  

Besides, deep down, Adam wasn’t too interested in this type of procedure.  

Doctors are expected to be professional and not have personal hang-ups, but given the choice, Adam preferred to avoid these kinds of surgeries—just like rectal exams. The fewer, the better.  

"Patients these days are getting bolder," Susan sighed after making the call. "They come across some half-baked medical information and think they can perform procedures on themselves. Do they ever stop to consider—if it were that easy, why would we spend so much money and so many years training to do this?"  

"Ignorance is bliss," Adam chuckled. "The more you know, the more you respect the complexity of medicine. I’m sure after this experience, he'll carry that respect for the rest of his life."  

No doubt about it.  

He had taken a knife to himself and botched the job. Even with a plastic surgeon’s intervention, it would never look the same as before.  

And if the surgeon wasn’t skilled? Well, if they left him looking like a piece of broccoli down there, that would be a lifelong nightmare.  

Using public restrooms would turn into a mission—dodging glances and avoiding any chance of being seen. The mere thought of it...  

"Dr. Lewis, there’s a patient waiting for you," a nurse called out, pointing to an elderly African American man sitting in the waiting area.  

"Got it," Susan acknowledged and motioned for Adam to come along.  

"Adam, you take the lead on this one," she said.  

"Did this start this morning?" Adam asked as he examined the patient’s eyes with an ophthalmoscope.  

"Yes, I noticed it when I woke up," the elderly man confirmed.  

"Are you still seeing double now?"  

"No."  

"How many fingers am I holding up?" Adam raised three fingers.  

"Three."  

"Have you had any previous eye issues?"  

"No."  

"When you were seeing double, did you feel any pain? Headaches? Loss of balance? Strange tastes in your mouth? White spots in your vision? Weakness in your limbs?"  

Adam ran through a series of questions, but the patient shook his head at each one.  

"I think he should see a neurologist," Adam suggested after ruling out most possibilities. He suspected a neurological issue and looked to Susan for confirmation.  

"Mr. Irwin, right?" Susan glanced at his chart and said in a gentle tone, "A neurology consult costs $200. Right now, you don’t have any concerning symptoms, so I’d recommend waiting until something actually feels wrong before seeing a specialist."  

"Is it because I'm Black?" the elderly man suddenly asked. "Are you discriminating against me?"  

"No!"  

Susan quickly shook her head. "I'm just trying to save you some money. I know you don’t have insurance..."  

In American hospitals, insured patients usually get private rooms, and doctors treat them with a high level of confidentiality.  

But for those without insurance? The treatment was much less personal. Quick assessments in the waiting area were common. Some hospitals wouldn't even accept uninsured patients.  

After all, in the U.S., healthcare is a business—one of the biggest.  

Money buys the best medical resources.  

For example, wealthy donors often contribute large sums to hospitals—not just for philanthropy, but also for personal reasons.  

When they have a mysterious illness that multiple doctors can’t diagnose, they might try to book an appointment with a top specialist, only to be told there’s a months-long wait.  

But if they donate a large sum? They could be admitted that very afternoon. A top-tier doctor would personally oversee their case, quickly pinpointing the issue and recommending the best treatment.  

That difference in timing? It could be the difference between life and death.  

And hospitals? They already have all the numbers worked out for you in advance. You just need to pay up.  

"If I weren’t Black, you wouldn’t say that!" the elderly man accused.  

"Dr. Lewis, should we just schedule the neurology consult? Provisional diagnosis: transient diplopia?" Adam interjected.  

"Fine," Susan sighed, full of exasperation. She instructed the nurse and then turned to leave.  

"Make sure to add it to his bill," Adam whispered to the nurse.  

"Of course," she replied with a knowing look.  

People like this—who assumed discrimination where there was none—were frustrating to deal with.  

Hospitals were profit-driven. They didn’t care if you had symptoms or not—if you walked in the door, they’d happily run every test imaginable just to rack up charges.  

By medical protocol, Susan should have ordered the neurology consult immediately. It was a billable service, after all.  

A single visit to a neurologist cost $200, which was a huge sum for someone without insurance.  

Susan was genuinely looking out for the patient’s best interests, yet he instantly accused her of racism.  

This was still 1998. A decade or two later, Susan could have faced serious consequences for such an accusation—possibly even losing her job.  

"Don’t follow my example," Susan said with a bitter smile as Adam caught up with her. "Your diagnosis was correct."  

"I know," Adam replied. "And I also know that you know what the right thing to do was."  

A seasoned attending like Susan wouldn’t be unaware of the right course of action.  

"Yet I still did it," she laughed at herself. "And it’s not the first time. Maybe I’ll never change."  

"You’re a good doctor," Adam said sincerely.  

Lu Xun once wrote: "To understand the world yet remain kind—that is true wisdom."  

Susan embodied that—both wise and kind.  

Adam wouldn’t have gone to such lengths for a patient like that, nor did he feel the need to. But that didn’t stop him from respecting doctors like Susan, who genuinely cared.  

Chapter 309: Luck with Women  

"Thank you."  

Susan felt Adam’s sincerity and smiled with relief.  

Their eyes met naturally.  

For a moment, Susan found it hard to look away.  

She had silently done many thankless tasks like this before. It would be a lie to say she wasn’t a little frustrated.  

Now, she had met someone like Adam—a person who truly understood her. And to top it off, he was incredibly handsome and charismatic.  

Considering her busy work schedule, she could hardly remember whether she had broken up with her boyfriend or not. She couldn’t even clearly recall what he looked like. At that moment, she found herself a little entranced.  

Adam hesitated for a brief moment before quickly looking away.  

According to Rajesh’s theory, that fleeting fraction of a second was enough to spark chemistry between him and Susan—not the kind Rajesh imagined in his head, but something real.  

Susan was an attractive woman who matched Adam’s aesthetic preferences.  

She was worldly yet untainted by cynicism, silently doing good deeds. Unlike Saint Liz, who always insisted that others follow her ideals, Susan simply did what she thought was right.  

But she was both a colleague and a superior at the hospital, unlike Bianca, whom he knew inside and out. Adam had no intention of letting that spark turn into something more.  

"Okay."  

Susan was a kind and mature woman in her thirties. She immediately noticed her momentary lapse and smiled awkwardly. "I have a patient to check on. Page me if there’s an emergency."  

"Got it."  

Adam nodded with a smile.  

Once Susan left, he let out a quiet breath.  

No doubt about it—this was the kind of world you’d see in a Hollywood TV show. The number of attractive men and women in the hospital was overwhelming, and it was all too easy to end up in a messy situation.  

This only strengthened his resolve to avoid entanglements with beautiful female colleagues.  

After all, people are naturally drawn to beauty—men and women alike.  

And Adam was far from the only good-looking guy in the hospital.  

But a good-looking guy who maintained his self-discipline? That was rare.  

Better not follow the crowd.  

"Adam!"  

A chubby, sleazy-looking man named Stu waddled over, waggling his eyebrows. "I heard you were the first one to see that guy who tried to perform his own circumcision."  

There were no secrets in a hospital.  

It had barely been any time, and the shocking news had already spread everywhere.  

If this had happened in Adam’s past life, it would’ve been trending on social media by now—probably with some viral phrase like, ‘If you can’t even cut yourself, do you really love me?’  

If the shy young man had known that, he probably wouldn’t have waited so long, suffering in silence, before finally pulling his pants down after Adam arrived and the nurse had left.  

"You’re interested in this too?"  

Adam teased, "What, already thinking about ditching your orange?"  

"You know me, I’m just that kind of free spirit."  

Stu smirked proudly. "No one can tie me down. I’ve even got a new girlfriend—cantaloupe. Still the same method—poke a hole and microwave it for 30 seconds. That texture…"  

"Enough."  

Adam had mentally prepared himself, but even so, he couldn’t handle Stu’s perversion any longer. He cut him off. "Don’t you have work to do? Why are you hanging around the ER?"  

"Heh, I got Shani to transfer me to help out in plastic surgery."  

Stu grinned. "Dr. Jordan over there really likes me. Says I’ve got a talent for plastic surgery. I was part of the entire surgery for that DIY circumcision guy."  

"Not bad."  

Adam looked at Stu in surprise.  

Among the interns, aside from Adam, who was clearly the top performer, and George, who had the worst luck, most of them were just trying to get by. Meredith was busy using her latte bribes to cozy up to her bosses. Who would’ve thought the sleaziest one—Stu—would be the first to get into the OR?  

"When the internship ends and we choose our specialties, I’m definitely picking plastic surgery."  

Stu looked triumphant.  

"Good choice."  

Adam nodded. "Light workload, high income, and most importantly, you like it."  

"That’s the best part!"  

Stu got even more excited. "Think about it, Adam—once I become a famous plastic surgeon, imagine how many beautiful women will come to me, letting me work my magic on them. And if I open a clinic in Beverly Hills, catering to Hollywood actresses… that would be heaven!"  

"I didn’t hear anything."  

Adam’s mouth twitched. He had no patience for Stu’s bottomless sleaziness.  

Whoever ends up as a patient under this guy’s knife is doomed.  

Total Liu Bei move—way too cunning.  

"Dr. O’Malley, come with me."  

A nurse called out to George, the chubby and somewhat effeminate intern, who was also assigned to the ER.  

"Sure!"  

George flashed his warmest smile and followed the nurse toward the patient rooms. "What kind of patient? Cardiac arrest needing defibrillation? A baby choking on something?"  

"You’ve heard about Dr. Duncan’s amazing work already, huh?"  

The nurse glanced at him, a playful smirk on her face. "Neither of those."  

She pushed open the door.  

"What’s going on?"  

George’s smile froze.  

Inside the room, patients were seated with bowls in their laps, vomiting into them. The overwhelming stench of bile and sickness filled the air.  

"This is a German tour group," the nurse explained. "They all got food poisoning at the Imperial Restaurant on 46th Street."  

She then turned to the patients. "Good afternoon, this is Dr. O’Malley. He’ll be taking care of you. If you have any questions, feel free to ask him."  

"Good afternoon, Dr. O’Malley—ugh!"  

A patient tried to greet him but immediately began dry-heaving.  

George stood there, his smile now completely hollow.  

"Don’t worry, Bambi. This is simple."  

The nurse, thinking now this is what an intern should look like, smiled brightly. "You just need to perform rectal exams and collect stool samples."  

"On all of them?"  

George’s face turned green, especially when he spotted some of the bigger women, their thighs thicker than his waist. He suddenly felt like his soul was leaving his body.  

"On all of them," the nurse confirmed with a sympathetic glance.  

"Dr. Duncan was just at the nurse’s station. Can’t he help me out?"  

George forced a smile.  

"I can try, but you’d better get started. These patients can’t wait."  

The nurse reminded him.  

"Alright then…"  

George pulled on latex gloves, looking as though he was marching toward his doom.  

Nurse Station 

"Hehehe…"  

As expected, George’s situation quickly became gossip. The nurses laughed openly.  

"Dr. Duncan was right there. Why didn’t you ask him?"  

An older nurse teased.  

"Dr. Duncan is handling real emergency cases. We can’t have him wasting time on something like this."  

The nurse who had taken George to the room smirked.  

"Exactly."  

The other nurses nodded in agreement.  

"Dr. Duncan is practically at the level of a resident."  

"He’s so handsome. How could we ask him to collect stool samples?"  

Just around the corner, George was carrying the collected samples to be sent to the lab when he overheard them.  

He stood frozen in place, stunned.  

All his life, he had always had great luck with women.  

Yet now, compared to Adam, the nurses naturally saw him as the guy who dealt with poop.  

What kind of twisted world was this…?