Life Through the American TV Show World Chapter 407 - 405: That Doctor’s Side Profile Is Seriously H

Wardroom

After seeing off a delighted Rachel, Adam took a mont to check on Mr. Dean before heading into surgery for a female patient with a brainstem tumor who'd narrowly escaped death.

"How're you feeling?" Adam asked.

"Pretty good," Mr. Dean replied, leaning back in his bed. He had a pen and paper in hand, sketching sothing. When he saw Adam walk in, he set them down, looked up, and gave a heartfelt, "Dr. Duncan, I heard everything. I can't thank you enough—you saved my life."

"No need to thank ," Adam said with a smile. "It's just what us doctors do."

He ant it, too. The little 0.01 notification from his system was reward enough. Not to ntion the noticeable boost to his reputation around the hospital.

"Mr. Dean's been drawing the mont Dr. Duncan saved him," a nurse chid in, unable to hold back her excitent.

"Oh?" Adam's curiosity piqued, and he glanced at the paper resting on Mr. Dean's lap.

"It's just a hobby," Mr. Dean said with a chuckle. "When I heard the crazy story of what happened to , I got this overwhelming urge to sketch it out."

"Can I take a look?" Adam asked.

"Of course." Mr. Dean handed over the sketch.

"Wow, this is really good," Adam said, genuinely impressed.

It must be the difference in upbringing—so random amateur artist could whip up sothing this skilled. Or maybe it was the near-death experience. That kind of shift in perspective could infuse a drawing with real emotion, making it hit you right in the chest.

Hmm… The doctor's side profile in the sketch? Seriously handso!

"Dr. Duncan, I'd love for you to keep this when it's done," Mr. Dean said.

"Oh, uh…" Adam hesitated.

"It's fine, Dr. Duncan," the nurse jumped in, quick to reassure him. "Mr. Dean's not a professional artist. He's never sold his work. It's just a little gift—no big deal."

Arican doctors can't accept bribes—at least not openly. It's like letting teachers run private tutoring gigs. Once you open that door, most teachers would half-ass their regular classes, saving the good stuff for the paid sessions. Students who don't shell out? Good luck keeping up. Sa deal with doctors. If the floodgates opened, you'd have to grease their palms just to get decent care. And the truly unethical ones? They might let savable patients die if the "tip" wasn't fat enough.

Word gets around fast. Who'd dare go under the knife without slipping a hefty gift first? Even the good doctors with a conscience would get dragged into the ss eventually. It'd be a vicious cycle.

"Thanks, then," Adam said after a mont's thought, deciding not to turn it down.

The sketch was just an amateur's casual work—no big value attached. Plus, it depicted Adam saving the guy's life. Accepting it wouldn't cross any lines. Down the road, when Adam opened his own practice, he could hang it up in the office as a badge of honor. Pretty standard move for doctors stateside. So even chase autographs or selfies with famous patients. The less scrupulous ones ask celebs to keep signatures vague—think "Thanks!" instead of "To Dr. Duncan"—so they can flip it online later. Most celebrity patients catch the hint and play along without a fuss.

Then there are the weirder ones. So doctors collect stuff they pull out of patients—like that guy from The Big Bang Theory who kept Steve Jobs' gallstone as a prized trophy, making Leonard and the gang jealous. Or the patients who swallow random junk—or shove it where the sun don't shine—only for docs to fish it out of their rectums. Those treasures end up in a basket at the nurses' station, affectionately dubbed the "Ass Basket." Newbies who don't know better might snag sothing shiny or valuable from it.

Take Bald Chris, for example. He pulled a stunt like that. When things got serious with Kara, a nurse from Internal dicine, she asked him for a gift that showed he really got her. Problem is, Chris—bald as he was—couldn't scrape together an original idea beyond flowers or chocolate. Desperate, he turned to the expert: Adam.

Adam didn't let him down. "A fancy pen," he said without missing a beat. Kara loved writing—every letter she sent was handwritten because it felt more personal. Solid idea, and it worked like a charm. Kara adored the gift so much she told Chris right then and there, "You've touched my soul. Tonight, don't treat like a person—just go for it!"

Chris, though? Too busy to follow through. By the ti Kara's deadline rolled around, he'd forgotten to buy anything. Then he spotted a gorgeous pen in the Ass Basket at the nurses' station. Clueless about the tradition, he thought it was a lost-and-found stash and asked the nurses if he could grab it for an ergency. They love pranking rookie docs, so they grinned and nodded—naturally, they didn't spill the beans.

So, Chris gifted his girlfriend this stunning, very seasoned pen.

Afterward… well, yikes.

God could be a girl, Buddha could be Black—anything's possible, right?

After checking Mr. Dean's vitals—all perfectly fine—Adam headed to the OR, buzzing a little from his first gift of this kind.

"Duncan, O'Malley, co with to et the patient's family in a bit," Dr. Shepherd called out. "And rember: don't ntion how she wasn't resuscitated and almost got sent straight to organ removal."

"Why not?" George, ever the justice warrior, piped up.

"The patient just needs to know we're doing everything we can," Shepherd said with a sigh. "And we are, aren't we?"

"Yeah, we are!" George shot back. "But that Dr. Hans from Weeks Hospital and the other guy earlier? They didn't give a damn—they almost killed her!"

"We can't let this blow up," Shepherd said, rubbing his temples. "It'd tank the reputation of every doctor and the whole dical field. One less organ donor ans multiple patients miss out on life-saving treatnt."

"But it's wrong!" George's face was all defiance. "Adam, what do you think?"

"I'm with the hospital on this," Adam said coolly.

George stared at him, floored. "Adam, you—!"

Adam t his gaze, unfazed.

Sure, he knew it wasn't right. But was this the only injustice in the world? If you charged headfirst into every wrong, guns blazing for justice, you'd burn out fast. Adam wasn't so invincible hero—just a regular guy with a diocre system, scraping by as a(ti-traveler) for nearly a decade, barely making it to billionaire status. Even if he were so OP protagonist, society would smack him down in a heartbeat.

The dark underbelly of Arican healthcare? Even the mighty U.S. of A couldn't ta that beast. All Adam could do was the good within his reach—nothing more, nothing less. That's the rule he'd figured out to stretch his lifespan with the system. Charity with his millions could save countless lives, but if he didn't get his hands dirty himself, the system wouldn't give him a single point.

Mr. Dean? Adam t him, saved him. This woman teetering on death's edge? Sa deal. But that's where it stopped.