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

The lab report slammed onto the walnut wood table, like a resounding slap.

Professor Sterling of Yale University stared at the report that read "Acid-fast bacilli positive," his eye muscles twitching slightly.

As a seasoned veteran who had spent forty years navigating the academic circles on the East Coast, he was all too aware of the current situation.

Old Hudson has been alerted.

If Prescott is forced to stay, and the patient dies from tuberculosis spread, the old man will definitely expose it.

At that time, not only will Metropolitan Hospital face a hefty medical lawsuit, but his academic reputation will also be ruined.

Professor Sterling slowly stood up, his ashen face instantly transforming into a look of deep sorrow and seriousness.

"Prescott, I am very disappointed in you."

He didn't even glance at his former star pupil, but turned to old Hudson, his tone sincere:

"Professor Hudson, thank you for your rigor."

"Yale Medical School has always taught its students to respect life, but Prescott was clearly blinded by utilitarianism and betrayed the most basic clinical norms."

A perfect cut.

Professor Sterling threw Prescott off the cliff in the most dignified manner.

Prescott opened his mouth, making a meaningless "clucking" sound in his throat.

He looked at his mentor's indifferent profile, and then at the colleagues around him who had just been flattering him but were now avoiding him like the plague.

He knew he was finished.

The specialist training qualification of Metropolitan Hospital will be terminated immediately.

With Professor Sterling's statement today, no hospital in the entire East Coast bone tumor community will dare to admit him again.

The meeting ended abruptly.

At the end of the corridor, old Hudson called out to Lynn, who was about to return to the emergency room.

With no outsiders around, this hot-tempered orthopedic expert suppressed his earlier fury and scrutinized the young man before him with a deep gaze.

"You are very smart."

Old Hudson leaned on his cane.

"You clearly guessed it was bone tuberculosis a long time ago, but instead of getting the test results yourself, you sent me the clues and made me the bad guy."

"It saved Sterling's face without making himself the target of public criticism."

Lynn appeared very sincere.

"I'm just an acting chief resident; I don't have the authority to bypass specialists and issue diagnostic orders directly. Besides, the medical community needs to maintain its dignity."

"To hell with dignity."

Old Hudson snorted, but his eyes revealed undisguised admiration.

"You not only saved a girl's arm today, you also saved her life."

"There are too many tailors in Metropolitan Hospital who can write beautiful papers, but too few doctors who can actually hold a scalpel and see the patient clearly."

Old Hudson patted Lynn on the shoulder with a heavy thud.

"Go for it. As long as you're still in my department, and as long as your diagnosis is correct, I'll take care of you even if the sky falls."

[Worldline complete]

[Award received: "Laparoscopic Cholecystectomy - Advanced"]

Afternoon, ward 1208.

Victoria, wearing a well-tailored white coat, pushed open the door and entered.

She had just finished a six-hour VIP surgery, and although she looked a little tired, her eyes remained sharp.

"I heard you caused quite a commotion on the twelfth floor. Did you get my authorization to do this?"

When Lynn wanted the authorization, Victoria gave it to him without asking any questions.

She opened the medical record folder on the bedside table and glanced at Lynn standing beside her:

"Julian doesn't have the authority to treat patients, so old Hudson transferred this patient to my care. From now on, I'm her attending physician."

Lying in her hospital bed, Elena looked at the scene and nervously gripped the corner of the blanket.

"Doctor, if it's diagnosed as bone tuberculosis... I might... be able to afford the subsequent treatment costs..."

"Don't worry about the bill."

Cassie peeked out from behind Victoria, holding a tablet computer in her hand.

"I've checked the New York State Department of Health's legislation."

Cassie skillfully pulled up several documents:

"Tuberculosis is a Class A infectious disease that is subject to mandatory reporting in the United States. I have just uploaded your diagnosis report to the New York City Department of Health and Mental Hygiene (DOHMH)."

Cassie leaned closer to the bed, lowered her voice, and spoke with the excitement of the lower classes getting something out of capitalism.

"Once the public health emergency plan is triggered, your subsequent costs for isolation wards and up to six months of anti-tuberculosis medication will all be covered by the state government's public health fund."

"As for the cold abscess lesion removal surgery that Dr. Lynn is going to perform on you next, I used the 'Emergency Intervention for Complications of Infectious Diseases' health insurance code."

Cassie tapped the screen:

"Combined with your law firm's high-deductible commercial insurance, the government's money is being wasted. All things considered, your personal out-of-pocket expenses will definitely not exceed five hundred dollars."

Elena was stunned.

She looked at Cassie, then at Lynn, and her eyes instantly welled up with tears.

The immense medical burden that had been looming over her and nearly driven her to the brink of despair was completely dismantled by a few simple medical insurance codes.

She was familiar with this feeling, like the top partner in their law firm who exploited legal loopholes.

Unfortunately, not everyone has this opportunity.

……

Three days later, at the Metropolitan Hospital Library.

Julian sat in front of the computer, his fingers flying across the keyboard.

He had never felt so good writing a thesis!

He drew upon all the academic skills he had acquired at his Ivy League university and completed the first draft of this case report in just 48 hours with terrifying efficiency.

He pressed the Enter key and his gaze fell on the author's signature field.

First author: Lynn.

With his extremely keen clinical intuition and solid understanding of the underlying medical history, he made the definitive diagnosis.

Second author: Julian Cabot.

He was responsible for all the literature retrieval, data organization, and paper writing.

Third author: Casey Quinn.

She provided crucial epidemiological history tracing and patient background investigations.

Corresponding author: Victoria Vanderbilt.

She provided the highest level of authorization from the attending physician and ensured the quality of subsequent treatment.

A perfect closed loop.

Julian let out a long sigh and leaned back in his chair.

At that moment, he finally felt like a real doctor.

Meanwhile, in some corner of the metropolis.

Prescott was carrying a cardboard box, packing his personal belongings one by one into it under the indifferent gaze of the security guard.

In this cold and realistic medical arena of fame and fortune, losers don't even have the right to leave a trace.

……

The orthopedic nurses' station on the twelfth floor.

At one o'clock in the morning, the coffee machine emitted a dull pumping sound.

Several young female nurses on the night shift and first-year resident doctors huddled together, exchanging their most explosive news from the Metropolitan Hospital that day in hushed tones.

"Have you heard? During the tumor consultation on the twelfth floor, Prescott was skinned alive by old Hudson."

"What's so outrageous about that? Julian is the most ridiculous one!"

"That arrogant young master Cabot actually dared to publicly berate his Yale professor for Lynn's sake!"

A blond resident physician, holding a paper cup, approached mysteriously.

"Don't you guys think Lynn's background is scary? Just who is he?"