American Medicine: I survived the death knell thanks to the devil.

Harold Wilson was sixty-two years old, with silver hair, wearing a pinstripe suit, and his tie was slightly crooked.

He glanced around as soon as he entered.

The bodyguards' and doctors' expressions, the stable waveform on the monitor.

I breathed a sigh of relief.

Then his gaze fell on the trauma bed.

A young Asian man was organizing equipment, wearing a surgical gown and having taken off his gloves.

Name tag on her chest: Lynn, Emergency Department, PGY-1.

Intern?

Dean Wilson paused for a moment.

His gaze moved from Lynn's name tag to Speaker Dawson on the trauma bed, then to the attending physicians with their various expressions, and finally settled on Victoria's face.

Victoria felt the gaze and looked up slightly.

The two stared at each other for less than a second.

Wilson didn't ask anything.

But three things had already crossed his mind.

First, an intern performed emergency open-heart surgery on the Speaker of the New York City Council. If this isn't handled well, it will be national news.

Second, the good attitude of Chief of Staff Grant indicates that the Speaker is satisfied with the outcome.

Third, if handled well, this will also be national news.

He adjusted his tie and walked toward Grant.

……

In the corridor.

When the door opened, Cassie heard Director Brandon's voice:

"...Vital signs are stable, prepare to transfer to ICU."

Alive.

Lynn did it.

Cassie leaned her head against the wall, tilting her head back.

One of the fluorescent lights in the corridor kept flashing, its light flickering on and off, illuminating the water stains on the ceiling.

She smiled.

Tears fell down.

She even felt a little fortunate that she had hesitated for those few seconds.

What if she rushed in?

If she were the assistant, could she have placed the second pair of pliers at the edge of Lynn's field of vision before he even spoke?

No.

She wasn't even sure she could immediately tell whether he would clamp the proximal end or the distal end first.

But Victoria can.

During those nineteen minutes, the two people worked together as if the same brain was controlling two hands.

Cassie wiped her face with her sleeve.

I'm a little sad.

I can't explain why.

Maybe it's because I saw where my ceiling is today.

It could also be because they saw what things on the ceiling looked like.

She leaned against the wall and stood up.

My knees are a little numb; I've been squatting for too long.

Cassie turned and left.

She still has shifts to work and medical records to record.

The handover in the ICU took forty minutes.

Speaker Dawson confirmed each of his postoperative medical orders, signed the drainage tube care plan, conducted a bedside handover with the ICU on-call team, and had the security personnel on Chief of Staff Grant's side change shifts.

Lynn stood by her side the whole time, only leaving the ICU through the glass door once the numbers on the monitor had stabilized within the normal range.

The corridor was empty.

Victoria leaned against the wall at the end of the corridor.

She changed her clothes; her surgical gown had been thrown into the laundry bin, and she was now wearing a gray pullover sweatshirt with her hair loosely draped over her shoulders.

The hoodie had a large neckline, revealing a red mark below the collarbone caused by prolonged head-down surgery.

She was holding a cup of coffee from a vending machine, but wasn't drinking it.

When Lynn came out of the ICU, she glanced at him.

They didn't say anything.

Lynn walked over and leaned against the wall next to her.

The two people were half a meter apart.

There was silence for about ten seconds.

"Thank you," Lynn said.

Victoria's finger twitched on the paper cup.

"What are you thanking me for?"

"If it weren't for your help today, I wouldn't have been able to handle it all by myself."

Lynn wasn't being polite; he was simply stating the facts.

Victoria looked down at the coffee in her hand.

A layer of condensation on the plastic cup lid indicates that the coffee has been sitting for a long time.

"You did a great job with the surgery," she said.

"You cooperated very well."

"I know."

Victoria looked up at the illuminated emergency exit sign at the end of the corridor.

Her profile looked very white under the fluorescent light.

Post-operative fatigue made her eyes a little red.

"You should remember what I said."

Which sentence?

"If I have the chance, I will help you as soon as possible."

The last syllable of that sentence sounded somewhat hesitant.

Lynn didn't realize it at the time.

"I said, 'If I have the chance, I'll help you immediately.'"

Victoria crumpled the coffee cup slightly. "I've kept my promise today."

Her tone returned to its usual subtle sense of control.

It's as if they're talking about a debt that's already been settled.

Lynn turned her head and glanced at her.

Victoria didn't look at him.

"You..." Lynn paused, "Did you hesitate before rushing in today?"

"no."

"That's good," Lynn said.

He leaned the back of his head back against the wall and looked at the flickering fluorescent light tube on the ceiling.

What he was thinking was: I can't let her take this kind of risk again.

If the surgery goes wrong today, her career will be dealt a fatal blow.

One of his partners risked everything to cooperate with him.

Victoria straightened up.

"I have to go now, I have another pre-operative consultation tomorrow."

"it is good."

She took a few steps and then stopped.

There was no turning back.

"Lynn".

"Um?"

"I know you really want to leave the ER. But next time something like this happens, don't act impulsively."

Finished talking and left.

The sound of leather boots stepping on the terrazzo floor faded into the distance.

Lynn leaned against the wall for a while longer.

The next day at 10 a.m.

The hospital's administrative building, seventh floor, is the president's conference room.

About ten people were sitting around the oval walnut wood table.

The meeting included the dean, vice dean, legal counsel, head of surgery, head of cardiothoracic surgery, head of trauma surgery, and someone who shouldn't have been at the medical conference—a council representative.

He had a bright bald head, wore a Briony suit, and sat in the corner like a quiet crocodile.

None of the people involved in the surgery—Lynn, Victoria, and Julian—were present.

The vice president opened the surgical record and adjusted his glasses.

"The intern performed the surgery, opening the left anterolateral thoracotomy. The patient was located manually through blind exploration of the mediastinum. The pulmonary artery branch lateral wall tear was sutured with a finger needle. The thoracotomy was completed in nineteen minutes. The patient is in the ICU and his vital signs are stable."

"Grant has received the surgical report, and the Speaker's office is satisfied with the outcome."

"But if the media gets wind of a medical intern performing emergency open-heart surgery on the Speaker of the New York City Council, what will the headlines be?"

No one responded.

The head of the cardiology department spoke first.

"Last night was an emergency, and all the attending physicians were present. Victoria served as the first assistant, and Julian as the second assistant. Procedurally, the surgeon determined that the situation could be handled flexibly."

The legal department immediately followed up: "CMS has an exemption clause for emergency surgeries. As long as the attending physician is present and endorses the procedure, the intern's actions can be classified as 'supervised emergency clinical behavior.' The key is how it's written in the surgical record."

"You mean, Lynn won't be listed as the surgeon?" The vice dean took off his glasses.