Healing Doctor

Chapter 796 Turned into a Monster

This is the best news Dr. Meltz has heard recently, bar none.

Although that young powerhouse has already begun to show his prowess in the field of sports medicine and is unstoppable, and given that Wenban Yama's injury and surgery are unrelated, it can only be attributed to bad luck.

However, Dr. Meltz was still very happy to hear the news.

"What did the X-ray show? Was an MRI done?" Dr. Merz asked hurriedly.

"I don't know yet. I called the team doctor and he said they're checking it out."

What do you think?

"I estimate there is a high probability of fracture or ligament damage."

Dr. Meltz was in a good mood.

In the play-in tournament, a single game decided the outcome, Wimbledon was fouled and forced to the bench. Even if the injury wasn't serious, it could be considered that the Lakers were out of the playoffs, and Wimbledon was also out of the playoffs.

As for next year, there's still a year to go.

"Damn it, Neymar better get injured too," countless thoughts raced through Dr. Merz's mind, but this one was the clearest.

"You didn't watch the game? I remember you watched a Lakers game a while ago, so I thought you were a Lakers fan, or at least a Wimbledon fan."

Dr. Meltz smiled slightly. "What's the score now?"

"It was so close, playoff level! What a great game, what a pity. I even suspect the player who tripped me was involved in betting. Damn Adam Silver, those gamblers deserve to die."

Dr. Meltz didn't seem to care; he shrugged and said, "I'll contact their team doctor."

"That's not good." The doctor stopped Dr. Meltz from his idea. "They must be very upset. When I called just now, I heard a lot of commotion and panic on the other end."

"Watch the game!" Dr. Merz took out his phone and clicked on the live stream of the game.

A huge close-up shot appeared before my eyes: the Staples Center was packed with people, filled with yellow jerseys and Bauhinia flags.

This was the last time I watched it this season, and Dr. Meltz smiled.

That damned demon king just barged into the field of sports medicine and dominated the most profitable surgical procedures in a very short time. I really hope all the athletes he's worked on retire on the spot.

Just then, Dr. Meltz felt his phone vibrate.

Although the volume wasn't loud, the deafening shouts and cheers came through the phone.

The Staples Center was instantly ignited by the appearance of a figure in the players' tunnel.

Although Wenbanyama was still a little unsteady on his feet, he walked out of the locker room, making a triumphant return to the field!

As more and more Bauhinia fans spotted Wemban Yama, the entire stadium seemed to be lifted by a massive roar.

With the involvement of betting companies, the NBA has become increasingly entertainment-oriented, and the story of a champion's return is the most likely to ignite human passion.

Dr. Meltz stared blankly at Vimbanyama, almost bursting into tears.

Deep down, Dr. Meltz increasingly suspected that the young demon king had physically altered Wenbanyama.

Otherwise, how could Wenban Yama have recovered so quickly!

Otherwise, why would Wenban Yama have returned so quickly after being tripped up?

otherwise……

Countless thoughts flooded Dr. Meltz's mind again, a jumbled mess of ideas.

With the ball out of play, Wenbanyama returned to the field.

Amidst the sonic boom, he raised his hands high, as if holding up the flag of the Bauhinia Army, leading a team composed only of undrafted players and second-round picks toward the playoffs.

The championship badges and retired jerseys hanging high in the Staples Center shone brightly at this moment.

Dr. Meltz watched all of this with a deathly pale face.

hope……

Before his hopes could be accurately recognized, Wenbanyama received a pass from his teammate and unleashed a powerful dunk over an opponent, announcing the true return of the king.

The usually calm Wenbanyama did not immediately return to defense, but instead roared at the fallen opposing player.

Those are the people who use themselves as stepping stones.

Whether intentional or unintentional, Wenban Yama responded with the fiercest counterattack.

Dr. Meltz didn't notice these things; he keenly observed that Wenbanyama's steps were still light, estimating that he had only twisted his ankle, without any fractures or ligament damage.

His entire weight and the traumatic injuries were absorbed by the repaired ligaments, which remained intact.

The young Demon King's seemingly simple and casual second surgery did indeed transform Wenban Yama into an indestructible warrior.

Dr. Meltz felt a sense of despair.

If Victor Wimbledon dominates the NBA, will future top athletes have to travel thousands of miles to have their surgeries performed by that young superstar?!

This is the most profitable segment of the sports medicine field.

Dentists, plastic surgeons, and cardiac surgeons are considered to be among the highest-paid doctors, but Melz is certain that those pale in comparison to the high end of sports medicine.

Dr. Meltz could vaguely see the delicious cake being sliced ​​off by the young Demon King, leaving him only crumbs.

He didn't speak, he just stared at the screen in frustration, watching the Chinese class's footsteps.

No problem, no problem at all! Wenbanyama is agile, and every attack and defense is flawless.

Dr. Meltz was helpless.

With block after block, and dunk after dunk over defenders, Wenbanyama's anger was ignited by malicious fouls, and he vented his emotions recklessly on the court.

The two surgeries did not hinder him; after fully recovering, Wenban Yama was almost like a superman.

omnipresent,

omnipotent,

All of this will attract more attention from the sports community and management.

Regardless of how far the Lakers go this season, his triumphant return today and the violent aesthetics that followed will have a profound impact on Dr. Mertz.

At the start of the fourth quarter, the Lakers had already blown the game out of proportion. When Wambano was substituted out for a rest, he clenched his fists and roared at the player who had tripped him.

At that moment, he was like a French monster, ready to devour his opponent alive.

F***!

Dr. Meltz was cursing inwardly.

How is this possible? It's utterly absurd! That damned Demon King, how did he manage to turn Wenbanama into a monster and a future warrior?!

Even now, when recalling that "simple" surgery, Dr. Meltz still has no idea what the big devil did.

I suffered a terrible defeat, a very terrible one.

"My God!" exclaimed the doctor next to him.

Dr. Meltz sighed; he must have been surprised by Wenban Yama's performance.

I was surprised myself, but...

"Mertz, do you know that?!"

"Know what?"

"Tom's going to that hospital you went to! He's going to seek treatment there. I think Tom has been watching Wenban Yama's condition all along." The doctor practically shouted.

"Tom? Which Tom?" Dr. Meltz asked listlessly.

"Tom Brady! Tom Brady of the New England Patriots!!"

"I haven't seen him in the Super Bowl since he got injured. Tom Brady is the best guy, the best quarterback!"

"My God, there's finally hope for Tom Brady."

"Mertz, do you think Tom Brady has a chance to return to his 2019 level? I thought he was going to retire, but I didn't expect..."

The doctor was rambling on, and Dr. Meltz's mood was extremely gloomy.

Another super athlete is going to have surgery with the young "Demon King"!

This was the only thought in Dr. Merz's mind, which made him extremely frustrated.

Although Tom has been injured for many years, it is estimated that even if God himself were to go on the operating table, he would not be able to fully recover.

but!

This is just the beginning.

With Wimbledon's phenomenal performance, more and more top athletes are going back to the "Big Three" for treatment and surgery after injuries, instead of coming to Massachusetts General Hospital.

Damn!

And there's that damn World Cup this year!!

Hopefully Neymar will perform poorly, otherwise... Dr. Merz is even worried that his clinic's revenue will suddenly drop.

No, the decline in income should have already begun. If Neymar leads the team to win the World Cup, his clinic will become a second-rate clinic, like a truck driver doing manual labor to earn a little money.

It's practically impossible to have another surgery costing millions of dollars.

……

……

"Xiao Ji, is Wenban Yama alright? That last hit looked pretty bad to me," Zhao Zhe asked, holding his phone as he sat in the locker room.

"It's okay, get ready for surgery, stop watching the live stream."

"Wenban Yama is really amazing!" Zhao Zhe laughed as he put his phone away. "She recovered so quickly."

"As expected."

Zhao Zhe was speechless in response to Ji Xiang's superficial comment.

Wenban Yama has fully recovered, and her athletic ability has not only not declined but has actually improved. As the practitioner, Ji Xiang should be happy.

But Ji Xiang remained calm, as if all of this was within his expectations.

That's so pretentious, but Zhao Zhe likes it.

"Dr. Ji Xiang, the agent of a washed-up football quarterback called to inquire about surgery." Lin Jiu walked back with the phone in his hand. Although he tried his best to suppress his surprise, his micro-expressions were still quite obvious.

"Let's look at the scans first. Quarterback surgery isn't urgent," Ji Xiang said. "Come on, let's get on the table."

Lin Jiu shrugged his shoulders as usual.

Perhaps only Dr. Ji Xiang would be so indifferent to the football quarterback who came knocking on his door.

That quarterback was one of the top players a few years ago, but his performance plummeted after an injury.

Lin Jiu also knew that the other party's physical condition was definitely not enough to support him to return to his peak, but for a doctor, this was of great significance.

But Ji Xiang genuinely didn't care; he was like a donkey in a production team, constantly going around in circles pulling a millstone.

Upon arriving at the operating room, the anesthesiologist sat dejectedly beside the machine, wearing a lead apron.

"Brother Liu, what's wrong with you? It's just one surgery, you won't have too many stitches." Ji Xiang greeted the anesthesiologist with a smile.

I didn't sleep well last night.

"Oh? You worked overtime last night? It must be very tiring for someone your age to work overtime. But speaking of which, I'm envious that you can still work overtime," Zhao Zhe asked with a smile.

This overtime work is different from that kind of overtime work; the atmosphere in the operating room is relaxed and cheerful.

"What's with all the overtime? My current hobby is fishing," the anesthesiologist said listlessly.

"So what's wrong with you?"

"My wife kicked me out of the house yesterday."

"!!!" Zhao Zhe was very interested. He quickly washed his hands and, while disinfecting them, asked, "Old Liu, what exactly happened? Your wife caught you?"

"Caught my ass! I've already told you I like fishing. Unlike you, you're so old and still unmarried, you can sleep with whoever you want and nobody cares. You envy me, but I envy you."

"Sigh, I'd like to, but someone has to be willing, right?" Zhao Zhe completely ignored the anesthesiologist's mockery and returned to the topic, "Did you come home late from fishing?"

My wife is sick.

"..."

"When I got home yesterday, he insisted on asking me one question."

"If she and your mother fell into the water, who would you save first?" Zhao Zhe asked with a smile.

"This question is outdated," the anesthesiologist sighed. "She asked me what I would do if I went to the bathroom without toilet paper and had a check for 500 million dollars and her photo in my hand."

"!!!"

"!!!"

This question is really boring.

"Brother Liu," Tang Yan asked, squinting, "you didn't have a bout of male chauvinism and started choosing photos, did you?"

"I'd rather not have a meltdown."

"Wow, you really dare?! Seriously, you two have such a great relationship. Your child is so old, and you can still ask such a brainless question." Tang Yan didn't want to discourage the anesthesiologist, so she could only praise him from a different angle.

"Sigh, I also think this question is idiotic, so my answer is even more idiotic."

"What did you say?" Zhao Zhe asked.

"No matter what, you're always my first choice?" Tang Yan's eyes widened as she gave an incredulous answer.

"No way," the anesthesiologist sighed. "If only I had been as tactful as you suggested, Xiao Tang."

"Is this considered tactful?!" Tang Yan exclaimed in surprise.

"I said I'd clean it with my fingers, then lick it clean with my mouth, and then go home and tell you I got a five million check, and then kiss you."

"..."

"..."

"Brother Liu, you can leave now," Tang Yan said expressionlessly. "Scum like you should be destroyed. You're disgusting, absolutely disgusting."

"The show's on!" Ji Xiang clapped his hands.

"It almost made me throw up my breakfast today," Tang Yan said disdainfully.

"You're studying medicine, what are you afraid of?" Ji Xiang asked with a smile.

"This is the most disgusting answer I've ever heard," Tang Yan said. "It's already brainless enough that you always choose me as your first choice, no matter what."

"You learned about cholera in infectious disease studies when you were in school, right?" Ji Xiang asked while performing the surgery.

"I've studied it, so what?"

"I'll ask you a question."

"you say."

"How are the three stages of cholera pathology divided?" Ji Xiang asked leisurely.

Tang Yan was stunned for a moment.

Infectious diseases are already a niche field, and with the addition of the word "pathology," she definitely wouldn't know it.

"I don't know, how did you divide it?" Tang Yan asked.

Ji Xiang didn't say anything, focusing on the surgery.

"Ji Xiang, how exactly is it divided? Tell me quickly," Tang Yan urged.

"Haha, Xiao Tang, Dr. Ji Xiang is just joking with you," Lin Jiu interrupted Tang Yan's questioning with a laugh.

"He only said half of what he meant, I know he was deliberately trying to disgust me, but what's so disgusting about pathological classification?" Tang Yan shook her head, but because she was wearing a sterile cap, her ponytail didn't fly up.

"Don't ask anymore."

"No, tell me now!" Tang Yan's stubbornness kicked in.

"What did you have for breakfast? Fried dough sticks and soy milk?" Ji Xiang squinted at the screen, making a SuperSelection.

"Hey, I knew you were deliberately trying to disgust me. I didn't have fried dough sticks and soy milk this morning. I had porridge and eggs, plus some pickled vegetables!" Tang Yan said smugly.

"The fecal pathology of cholera patients is divided into three types: early stage: egg drop soup-like; middle stage: black rice porridge-like; late stage: white rice soup-like."

"..."

"Xiao Ji, you're even more disgusting than me," the anesthesiologist said helplessly. "I also had porridge in the cafeteria this morning. Speaking of which, the rice porridge in our cafeteria is so thick you can see your reflection in it. It really does look a bit like cholera, which is like white rice soup."

"Hey." Ji Xiang finished superselecting quickly and said with a smile, "It was just a joke, don't take it too seriously."

"Can't you say something more meaningful?"

"Isn't plain rice porridge nutritious?"

"Nausea!"

"Imaging." Ji Xiang raised his hand.

Although everyone was chatting, it didn't delay the surgery in the slightest. The high-pressure injector was connected, and the angiography began.

"To put it more meaningfully, I once met a teacher who was particularly prone to sweating, especially when nervous."

Ji Xiang said softly, squinting at the screen.

"They use gauze. When your orthopedic surgeon, Director Sui, performs surgery, he always has to wear two gauze strips on his head. Otherwise, he'll sweat. I don't know where he gets so many sweat glands."

"Yeah, I think Director Sui's sweat glands have all grown onto his head."

"That's not what I meant." Ji Xiang squinted at the screen. "I was watching from the back that day. The surgery was very difficult. During the procedure, he asked the circulating nurse to wipe his sweat. But the circulating nurse went to get blood, so I just took a piece of gauze and wiped it for him."

"I saw his hand tremble as soon as he wiped it, his whole body stiffened, then went limp, and then he got yelled at."

"Insult you? Why?" Tang Yan asked, puzzled.

"So that teacher had friction allergy," Ji Xiang replied casually.

"!!!"

"What is friction allergy?" Tang Yan asked, blinking her big eyes.

"Some people with a congenital allergic constitution will experience allergic reactions when their skin is rubbed, even by slight stimulation. The rubbed area will show localized edema, redness around it, and itching."

"Xiao Tang, ignore him," the circulating nurse said through the intercom. "Ji Xiang is driving."

"Why are you driving? I don't feel anything."

"Xiao Ji, is that teacher you mentioned married?" the experienced mobile nurse asked.

No, I've always been single.

"I told you so, you scoundrel, saying these things to my little Tang." The circulating nurse dismissively released the intercom.

Tang Yan finally understood what it meant and glared fiercely at Ji Xiang.

Driving isn't scary; not understanding what you're doing is.

Whoever doesn't understand is embarrassed.

"The control has been lifted, it's over." Ji Xiang turned and stepped down from the stage, and Lin Jiuze took over the work next.

Lin Jiu had long been accustomed to being a junior doctor under Ji Xiang.

He was responsible for the "rough work" of removing tubes and applying pressure to stop bleeding.

"Bang!"

Ji Xiang tore off his lead apron and threw it on the ground.

"How many times have I told you, just hang up your lead apron!" The circulating nurse kicked open the airtight lead door and came in, nagging.

But instead of scolding him like she would scold someone else, and pulling on Ji Xiang's ear to make him follow operating room rules and hang up his lead apron, she picked up the lead apron herself and started tidying it up.

"Xiao Ji, you're something else. You don't even have a girlfriend, and your driving is even worse than those old scoundrels."

"I was just stating a fact, sis. I wasn't driving. You're overthinking it." Ji Xiang scratched his head and chuckled.

Suddenly, the technician outside the lead-tinted glass stood up, his expression serious and extremely polite.

The circulating nurse paused for a moment, then looked through the leaded glass.

Director Bai walked in wearing a blue hat.

"Director Bai."

Although the circulating nurse was in the operating room and Director Bai certainly couldn't hear her greeting, the circulating nurse still stood at attention and greeted her.

"Director Bai, what brings you here?" Ji Xiang went out and greeted Director Bai.

"Wenban Yama's recovery after the surgery is really good!" Director Bai said excitedly. "Xiao Ji, the surgery was done well!"

"Fortunately, it was expected."

Do you think being tripped over would have a significant impact?

"No, Wenban Yama's recovery is progressing very well. I don't think the sprained ankle is a big deal."

"That's good," Director Bai said with a smile.

"Director Bai, what brings you here is...?"

"I just saw that Wenban Yama performed well, so I came to see if you were happy too."

Ji Xiang gave Director Bai a serious look, seeing that he had a smile on his face and could not tell what he was thinking at all.

"Looks like I need to pay attention to this," Ji Xiang thought to himself.

The NBA is a bit of a hassle; the playoffs coincide with my work hours. But Ji Xiang doesn't watch many games, just knowing the results is enough. He might glance at Vincent van der Amazon occasionally, and seeing that he's exercising without any problems is enough for him.

More than a month later.

Despite leading a group of undrafted players, Wimbledon and Yamaz were in outstanding form, like a killer descending from heaven, going from the seventh round to the second round, and then to the Western Conference Finals.

After winning the Western Conference Finals 4-2, Ji Xiang received a call from Wenban Yama, inviting him to watch the NBA Finals.

"Knock knock knock~"

Ji Xiang knocked on the door of Director Bai's office.

"Director Bai, hello." Ji Xiang said politely.

"Come in, Xiao Ji." Director Bai beckoned Ji Xiang in casually. "What's up?"

"Wenbanyama has made it to the finals."

"I know the surgery was done very well, and I've recently been consulted by well-known sports medicine experts in China."

"Oh, that's not it." Ji Xiang magically produced an envelope.

"What is this?" Director Bai frowned.

"The front-row tickets for the finals were specially delivered to me by Wenban Yama's agent, who made a special trip."

"!!!"

"Five tickets for each match. Could you please help me get a close look at Wenbanyama's recovery?"

"I don't have any holidays," Director Bai said with a worried look.

You could see that Director Bai's saliva was already flowing out.

"Holiday? It has nothing to do with holidays," Ji Xiang said. "Observing the postoperative recovery of patients and opening up new horizons for the field of sports medicine in our hospital is, in my opinion, the job of the medical affairs department."

"The only problem is that the Lakers are down 0-2, and the game back at home might not be as exciting."

Director Bai looked at Ji Xiang with a smile.

This child is truly understanding.

(End of this chapter)