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

"Victoria?"

A slightly disgruntled call interrupted her thoughts.

The department head, Old Hudson, sitting in the main seat, pushed up his gold-rimmed glasses and tapped his fingers on the table.

"I'd like to hear your opinion on the surgical plan for the patient with Marfan syndrome in bed 32."

All eyes were on Victoria's face.

She then came to her senses.

But she was so preoccupied with last night's events that she didn't catch the progress of the previous discussion.

On the screen is an enhanced CT image.

A massive aneurysmal dilatation at the root of the aorta occupied the most prominent position in the thoracic cavity.

Victoria felt a fine layer of cold sweat seep out of her back; the silk shirt clung stickily to her skin, making her feel very uncomfortable.

She was so focused on analyzing Lynn's case that she didn't hear the previous case report at all.

"Uh, about bed 32..."

"I think...considering the patient's advanced age and underlying condition, perhaps we can try conservative treatment first..."

"keep?"

Old Hudson's brow furrowed deeply, a sign that she was about to lose her temper.

"The diameter of the aortic root has already dilated to 5.5 centimeters! And you're telling me about conservative treatment?"

A few snickers rang out in the conference room.

Victoria is the youngest surgeon in this room.

But no matter where you are, there will always be some people who attribute a person's success solely to their family.

Many people were happy to see this young lady make a fool of herself.

It’s over.

This kind of basic mistake is a stain on her career.

Just then, a voice rang out from the corner.

"Doctor, Dr. Vanderbilt means that before the valved aortic root replacement surgery, the patient's coagulation disorder needs to be conservatively treated first."

Lynn stood up.

He held up a tablet computer and projected a lab report onto the main screen in the conference room.

"Last night, Dr. Vanderbilt specifically asked me to check the patient's medical history. The patient has been taking warfarin for a long time, and the INR value is as high as 3.5."

"If the coagulation indicators are not corrected first, and the chest is opened directly, the risk of bleeding during the operation is very uncontrollable."

At this point, Lynn turned to look at Victoria.

She revealed the same scattered adoration as Emily had shown before.

"I think this was a trap deliberately set by Dr. Vanderbilt to test our attention to detail, right?"

They seem to be truly good students who are cooperating with the teacher's teaching.

Old Hudson was taken aback by these words, then flipped through the medical records in his hand, and his expression softened.

"INR 3.5... Indeed, it was my oversight."

He gave Victoria an approving look.

"As expected of the Vanderbilt family, they pay close attention to detail. They even go out of their way to test junior doctors; they've really gone to great lengths."

Those who were originally prepared to laugh at him could only reluctantly turn their attention away.

Victoria loosened her grip on the hem of her white coat under the table.

She gave Lynn, who had just sat down, a long look.

This Asian kid...

Is he helping himself?

"Alright, meeting adjourned. Lin, since you discovered it, you're in charge of arranging for the patient to stop taking the medication and receive vitamin K1 injections to counteract the symptom."

"Even though you're still a resident, you can follow up with this patient. Learn more from Dr. Vanderbilt."

……

The crowd dispersed.

Only Lynn, who was tidying up the documents, and Victoria, who was still in a daze, remained in the conference room.

Victoria stood up, her high heels clicking rapidly on the floor.

She walked over to Lynn.

Lynn was organizing the medical records folder, moving quickly without even looking up.

"Thanks."

Victoria's voice was cold, with an awkwardness that suggested she wasn't used to saying thank you.

"You're welcome, Dr. Vanderbilt."

Lynn closed the last medical record folder, hugged it to her chest, and turned to face her.

He also wore an impeccable professional smile.

"As your junior doctor, it is my duty to identify and fill any gaps in your knowledge."

That's perfectly normal.

It's so normal it's unsettling.

Victoria stared intently into Lynn's eyes.

"You yesterday..." she began tentatively.

"Yesterday?" Lynn tilted her head, looking confused.

"I worked over 30 consecutive hours before, and I took yesterday off and slept all day at home. What happened? Did I miss some urgent medical orders?"

Victoria felt like she had punched a cotton ball.

That feeling of powerlessness drove her almost crazy.

Maybe I'm just overthinking it?

Just as her tense nerves relaxed slightly and she was about to turn and leave.

Lynn suddenly took half a step forward.

The distance between the two instantly closed.

Victoria was so close that she could smell the cheap scent of laundry detergent on him, which clashed with her own Chanel No. 5.

Lynn lowered his voice, his tone concerned:

"However, you do look unwell today."

His gaze lingered for a moment on Victoria's slightly puffy eye bags, even with concealer.

"Didn't you sleep well last night, Dr. Vanderbilt? Or perhaps...?"

"Are you under too much pressure?"

boom!

Victoria felt like something had exploded in her head.

She looked up abruptly, trying to read something from Lynn's face.

Lynn has already returned to a safe social distance.

He reverted to being the timid resident doctor he always was, as if his words just now were truly just out of simple concern.

"I'm back in the ER, doctor. There are still a lot of patients waiting."

Lynn bowed slightly, holding the medical record folder, and turned to walk out of the conference room.

His steps were light and quick, but his silhouette was ordinary.

Victoria was left standing there alone, her fingers gripping the hem of her clothes tightly, her knuckles white.

He did it on purpose.

It was absolutely intentional!

But... just how much does he actually know?

Did he recognize me at the gym? Did he miss the box of medicine?

Or is it all just a coincidence?

This uncertainty kept nagging at her heart.

It reminded her of Schrödinger's cat, which she had studied in a college elective course.

As long as Lynn doesn't lift the lid, Victoria will forever remain in a superposition of "exposure" and "safety".

They were slowly consumed by this fear and suspicion.

But for some reason, it also felt kind of exciting...

Lynn strode out of the administrative area and pushed open the isolation door leading to the emergency department.

He stood next to bed number 4, holding a freshly printed biochemical test report in his hand.

On the bed was a gaunt old Mexican man with severely dehydrated skin, who smelled of rotten apples.

This is the smell of ketoacidosis.

"Mr. Juan, your blood sugar has spiked to 600, and the gangrene in your thumb is spreading upwards."

Lynn drew several red arrows on the lab report with the tip of her pen.

"You need to be admitted to the hospital immediately for blood sugar control treatment, and then undergo surgery."

Juan huddled in the stained sheets, his cloudy eyes filled with terror as he heard about hospitalization and surgery.

His English is very poor.

"No, no, no... I don't want to be hospitalized, I don't have health insurance..."