After the anesthesiologist, Taylor, got kicked out, the surgery went on.
Dr. Shepter operated for a bit before he couldn't help glancing at Adam. "Dr. Duncan, do you actually understand anesthesia?"
"A little," Adam said with a grin. "Modern surgery basically grew up alongside advancements in anesthesiology. As a surgeon, I figured it'd be smart to know a thing or two, so I cracked open some anesthesia textbooks."
It's simple logic—how do you do surgery without anesthesia? Not everyone's a tough guy from the old stories. Even Guan Yu only scraped a bone to heal it. Try asking him to drill into a brain and see how that goes!
"…" Dr. Shepter looked away and got back to work, too lazy to respond. You caught the patient's anesthesia wearing off early, and you call that 'a little'?
Adam didn't say more either. He quietly played first assistant, his super-genius brain letting him multitask like a champ—being a perfect tool for Dr. Shepter while still keeping an eye on everything else. Saying he knew "a little" was just him being humble, of course.
If he got too honest right now, he worried his brilliance might freak people out. In the U.S., being good is fine—you can show it off whenever. But being too good? You've got to rein it in a bit. After all, anti-intellectualism runs deep here.
Not that the folks working in a hospital are the main crowd for that, mind you. Still, the gap between a super-genius and a smart person is way bigger than the gap between a smart person and your average American. Better to play it safe.
Adam's mind wandered to Juno and Karen. That little spiel earlier? Juno was the one who first said it to him. Thanks to her nudge, he'd started paying attention to anesthesiology early on. Back when they were hunting and dissecting in that woodland cabin, he'd studied and practiced it for real. Juno had been super into it—enough that Adam once thought she might want to be an anesthesiologist herself. Then he brushed the thought aside. Little Red Riding Hood studying anesthesia? Makes sense, I guess.
Compared to surgery, anesthesia practice doesn't differ as much between humans and animals. Dosage variations? You can adjust those based on what's in the books. If it weren't for not having an anesthesiologist license, Adam could totally pull it off.
"Dr. Duncan, how'd you figure out Dr. Taylor fell asleep?" Nurse Steve broke the silence after a while, unable to hold back. Everyone turned to look.
They were all dying to know. During the surgery, Taylor had been facing the monitors, back to the team. No one else noticed a thing, but Adam did.
"Because Dr. Taylor held that same position for 3 minutes and 27 seconds," Adam explained.
"3 minutes and 27 seconds?" The team exchanged looks.
"You kept track of that?" Dr. Shepter said, incredulous. "While assisting me, no less?"
He'd felt Adam was totally focused as an assistant—hands-down the best intern he'd ever worked with, whether it was helping with the surgery or answering his questions.
"It's not a big deal," Adam said with a modest smile. "You know I've got that high-def photographic memory. I caught Dr. Taylor's stillness out of the corner of my eye, flipped back to when he started holding that pose, did the math, and there you go."
Everyone: "…" 'Not a big deal,' he says!
"Didn't you notice Dr. Taylor was asleep way earlier?" Dr. Shepter's eyes glinted. "If the monitor data hadn't started fluctuating, would you have even said anything?"
"Of course not," Adam shot back. "I noticed the monitor data acting up first, then realized Dr. Taylor might've dozed off."
The room's vibe shifted—everyone's looks turned weird. Sure, Adam denied it, but they weren't dumb. They knew he'd never admit it outright. The bigger likelihood? Exactly what Dr. Shepter suspected.
That realization made their feelings about Adam more complicated, though mostly positive. There's an unspoken rule among doctors: don't call people out. Nobody likes a busybody crossing lines—nobody wants to be the one exposed.
Adam pointing out Taylor's screw-up in front of everyone had prevented a surgical disaster. The proof was right there, and they couldn't argue with it. Still, deep down, some of them grumbled a little. That's just human nature.
But if Dr. Shepter's guess was right? Then Adam's approach was flawless. He'd given Taylor plenty of face. The team picked up on that kindness and flashed him smiles. Adam smiled back.
Truth was, he'd been watching Taylor the whole time and clocked him dozing off within ten seconds. But he didn't say a word. If the anesthesia held steady, what did it matter if Taylor was playing word games or snoozing till the end? No way Adam was going to burn a bridge with a top-tier anesthesiologist over that.
Second-Floor Observation Room
George, listening in, felt his whole world crumble. Same deal—pissing someone off—yet Adam got all the praise and support, while he got the side-eye from everyone? He couldn't forget those looks when he got booted from the OR—shock, confusion, like he was some clueless punk who didn't know his place.
Both interns, so why the double standard?
Anesthesiologist Dr. Pellington swooped in soon after, taking over the rest of the job—monitoring blood pressure, heart rate, oxygen saturation, end-tidal CO2, airway pressure, BIS values, ready to tweak things on the fly. Luckily, once Taylor was out, the drama spotlight faded. Everything went smooth.
Dr. Shepter, the lead surgeon, declared the surgery a success and stepped out to break the good news to the patient's parents waiting outside. Big surgeries like this came with a hefty price tag. Shepter made a point to give them the VIP treatment when he could. Most times, it'd be a resident or even an intern delivering the update.
Over in Japan, even the hospital director might personally meet the family pre- or post-op, delivering the news themselves. There, it's normal for families to offer a fat "thank you" gift. Here in the U.S., though, Shepter's a contracted attending—he splits the bill with the hospital. The family's gratitude? Baked into that sky-high surgery fee already.
After Shepter left, the anesthesiologist got busy. Their job's a bit like a pilot's: pre-op visits are like inspecting the plane for takeoff, making sure everything's good to go. Post-op recovery's like watching the runway, ensuring a safe landing. During the surgery? Autopilot—smooth sailing unless something goes wrong, then it's all hands on deck.
The patient got wheeled to the recovery room to wake up. Adam, meanwhile, headed to Ward 2 to check on Bill's condition.