Medical Center.

Cafeteria.

With just a small reminder from Adam, Cristina finally saw through the haze, and an overwhelming sense of anger rose within her.

What had she been working so hard for?

Wasn't it just to secure a chance to perform a pancreatic resection?

Yet, despite all her efforts, Meredith, who hadn't even competed, ended up getting a procedure far more interesting and rare than a pancreatic resection— the so-called Seven Nails Skull Extraction.

Meanwhile, Cristina was stuck assisting an elderly nurse with a series of exhausting rectal exams.

And now, she had just found out that these exams had been completely pointless.

No wonder this pancreatic resection, which should have been done as soon as possible, kept getting postponed. Every time she suggested it to the lead surgeon, Dr. Burke, he simply brushed her off with more tests.

That old nurse had even stood there with her arms crossed, mocking her from time to time.

Turns out, everyone knew— the old nurse had come to the hospital just to wait for death. She had never intended to undergo pancreatic surgery in the first place.

And Cristina? She had been running around like a clueless clown...

"Meredith, you knew too?"

Cristina, eyes red with frustration, turned to Meredith.

"Knew what?"

Meredith looked confused.

"My pancreatic cancer patient came here just to wait for death."

Cristina stared at her intently.

"What?"

Meredith gasped. "I didn't know! Has it gotten that bad? I heard she used to be my mom's surgical nurse."

"She was your mom's surgical nurse for eighteen years."

Seeing that not everyone had known, Cristina's expression softened a little. She then said blankly, "But she never once met you. She thought your mom was extremely arrogant."

Even though doctors and nurses belong to different professional groups, the relationship between a dedicated surgical nurse and the lead surgeon shouldn't have been so distant.

Especially after working together for eighteen years.

If an old nurse who had spent her life in the hospital developed pancreatic cancer, yet her colleague of eighteen years never once checked in on her, anyone would assume it was arrogance and disdain.

"My mom... arrogant?"

Hearing this, the excitement from Meredith's earlier involvement in the Seven Nails Skull Extraction surgery instantly faded.

She had always had a terrible relationship with her mother. She, too, thought her mother was arrogant, strict, and even a little cold.

When she applied to Harvard Medical School, her mother flat-out told her she wasn't good enough.

But now, her mother had Alzheimer's, forgotten everything, and was no longer the same person. Hearing someone else call her mother arrogant suddenly made Meredith feel uneasy.

"And where did you hear this from?"

Cristina turned to Adam.

"It's not exactly a secret."

Adam shrugged. "The nurses all knew the moment she was admitted."

Cristina understood. Given how much the nurses liked Adam, this kind of information would have reached him immediately.

"This is ridiculous."

Cristina grumbled, feeling stifled. "She's wasting medical resources!"

"She's a veteran employee who served this hospital for decades."

Adam reminded her, "In her final moments, she chose to come here. That's human nature. Policies exist, but they should also account for people's emotions. Put yourself in her shoes—what would you do?"

"I'd choose to have the surgery..."

Cristina started to argue but fell silent when she saw Adam's be honest expression.

People tend to speak from their own position.

Right now, she desperately wanted to participate in a pancreatic resection, so of course, she wished the old nurse would have the surgery.

But if she were being objective, the old nurse had three options:

Stay at home and wait for death. Undergo pancreatic resection surgery. Stay in the hospital and wait for death.

The first option was the most painful— suffering from pancreatic cancer while knowing you're just waiting to die. The physical and mental anguish would be unbearable.

The second option, surgery, was risky. Given her condition, she'd likely die on the operating table. But at least anesthesia would make it a relatively painless death.

The third option— staying in the hospital— meant she'd have access to morphine and other pain relief, reducing her suffering compared to waiting at home. And unlike surgery, she'd live a little longer.

Everyone has a survival instinct. Death is terrifying.

Knowing there's a 95% chance of dying on the operating table, who would willingly choose that unless they had no other choice?

Most people in her position would choose the third option.

But as Cristina had pointed out, this was still a waste of medical resources— hospital beds, tests, medication.

With how profit-driven the American healthcare system is, there's no way such "wasteful behavior" would normally be allowed.

It was both illegal and against regulations.

Most people wouldn't have access to this kind of treatment.

But this old nurse had spent her entire career in this hospital. Everyone in the hospital knew her.

The department head said nothing.

The attending physician said nothing.

The residents said nothing.

The nurses said nothing.

They all pretended she was genuinely going to have the surgery, running test after test until she eventually passed away naturally.

This was the greatest level of compassion they could show within the system's limits.

Even if someone exposed this, it wouldn't be a big deal.

Besides, who would dare expose it?

Unless they didn't want a future in medicine.

All the medical staff knew— this nurse's situation could one day be their own.

Sure, it wasted public healthcare resources and cost insurance companies money. But who in their right mind would make an enemy of their entire hospital over this?

Cristina wasn't stupid, so she could only keep her frustration bottled up.

As they spoke, Liz sat down with her tray.

"Well, if it isn't our model doctor."

Cristina, still irritated, couldn't help but throw in a jab.

Liz immediately shot her a glare.

"Don't look at me like that."

Realizing she had misspoken, Cristina changed her tone. "Come on, six feet tall, ridiculously perfect body, long hair down to your chest— if I had your figure, I'd walk around naked all day. No school, no work, just living the dream."

Everyone chuckled.

"I was wearing makeup... and they edited the photos."

Liz, sensing the friendly teasing, smiled too.

"Still, taking down Alex in the locker room? That was badass!"

George gave her a thumbs-up.

Adam smirked knowingly.

After discovering Liz had posed for a Bethany Whisper magazine shoot as a "sexy doctor," Alex had printed dozens of copies and plastered them all over the locker room— even on the elevator doors.

When Liz saw it, she didn't hesitate. While Alex was egging her on, she started taking off her clothes right in front of everyone, taunting him.

We're all doctors. Haven't we studied anatomy? Haven't we seen it all before?

It's just a bunch of fat, right?

That completely shut Alex down. The gathered crowd, which had been enjoying the show, suddenly felt too awkward to laugh.

The whole hospital was buzzing about it.

Liz noticed Adam's amused expression and shot him a you have no right to laugh at me look.

Adam blinked, suddenly sensing something was off.

All around them, people were whispering and pointing—not just at Liz, but at him too…

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