Daily Drama (In American TV Shows)

Again, I know I promised more chapters per week, but I have final exams at university and project and assignment submissions, which consume a lot of my time.

There may be possibly a couple more weeks with the old update schedule (a new chapter every Sunday), and then I will continue with several chapters per week (3).

Enjoy.

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"Then obviously it's not just diagnosis," Dr. Thomas said, smiling broadly after joking with his wife, "you work surprisingly well under pressure. I've seen final year students freeze when put in situations like this in hospitals all the time," he continued while laughing.

"That was quite fast, it seemed like you were about to throw the chair flying," Dottie added, amused.

"I just happened to know the maneuver," I said again, feeling somewhat embarrassed by the elderly couple's congratulations.

"That's not just knowledge, you seem to have experience that I've only seen in very few people," Dr. Thomas said, still amused.

"I've practiced quite a few hours in the hospital's skills lab in Texas," I explained.

"You have an amazing grandson," the man who had been choking on food a few moments ago, somehow stealthily approaching our table, said, surprising me as he came up behind me.

"We know," apparently without intending to correct the man, Dottie said, hugging Dr. Thomas's arm.

"I wanted to thank you properly, son, now that I can breathe like a normal person," the man said, smiling broadly and somewhat embarrassed, stretching out his hand.

Standing up, I shook hands to accept the man's gratitude properly.

"You don't have to thank me, I'm sure if it wasn't me, someone else would know what to do," I explained calmly.

"I wouldn't bet on that. If it weren't for you, I'd either be on my way to the hospital or God forbid, dead right now, so let me thank you properly," the man said, lightly patting my shoulder.

Releasing my shoulder, the man called over the restaurant owner who had just come out of the kitchen with concern on his face, apparently one of his employees had informed him of the situation.

"Sam, my God, are you okay?" Alessandro, the restaurant owner, nervously asked, approaching the more robust man.

"Yes, my friend, this young man here saved my life," unfortunately for me, the man named Sam said loudly, putting his hand on my shoulder.

"Oh PJ, I knew you were someone special the moment I saw you," Alessandro said, smiling broadly as he raised his arms with great excitement.

"Alessandro, whatever this young man here wants along with his grandparents, put it on my tab," holding my shoulder, Sam, the robust man, said, shaking me slightly.

"Consider it done," Alessandro replied cheerfully immediately, "now you're one of my friends, PJ, whenever you want, there will always be a table available for you," the restaurant owner added, taking my other shoulder.

"If you need anything, anything at all in the future, don't hesitate to call," pulling out what looked like a business card from his jacket, Sam said as he handed it to me, "you saved my life so there's no small favor," he continued, squeezing my shoulder.

The two boisterous men after bidding farewell walked away chatting with each other, laughing almost to the point of tears, oblivious to all the attention they were receiving.

"It looks like PJ's treating this dinner," Dr. Thomas, who along with Dottie had simply sat back enjoying the 'show', said ironically.

"It's actually Sam," pointing with my head to the robust man who was still happily talking to the restaurant owner, I said.

"Potato, potahto," Dr. Thomas said, amused.

At the end of the dinner, after a delicious Italian dessert made with hardened caramel of some sort, we left the restaurant, not without being bid farewell again by Alessandro and Sam, I was sure I had received enough cheek kisses from a man for quite a while.

The journey back was quite peaceful as we listened to music in the Thomases' car.

In the beautiful house of the elderly couple, they introduced me to Alfred, who was a very formal man, always keeping his back straight.

Using a phone in the house, I called home again, this time finally being able to speak to mom, who apparently found out much later than she should have about my arrival in Boston, hence my siblings, who were already asleep at that time, would be grounded for at least a few days.

"Your room is at the end of the hallway, you have your own bathroom, and feel free to come down for a late-night snack anytime, I always do," after my call home, Dr. Thomas said, pointing to a door on the second floor of the house.

"Have a good night, PJ dear," Dottie said with her ever-present kind smile before walking to what I was sure was the elderly couple's bedroom.

"Tomorrow I'd like you to accompany me to campus, I have to pick up some documents," Dr. Thomas said.

"Sure," I replied without issue, hiding a tiny suspicion about the real reason the doctor was taking me to the Harvard Medical School campus; obviously, it wasn't just a simple errand for documents.

"Well, PJ, I hope you have a good night," clapping his hands together in a small applause, Dr. Thomas said before following his wife down the hallway opposite the room I would be using these days.

The decoration in the Thomases' house was stunning, paintings and sculptures filled the long hallway of the second floor, downstairs even had a grand piano and the floor, like in the Italian restaurant, seemed shiny almost like a mirror.

In the guest room where I would be staying, my previously packed belongings in my suitcase were now neatly arranged inside the room's closet, obviously the work of the butler, and that was all fine, but seeing my underwear properly folded and organized was strange.

After a short bodyweight exercise routine, I took a bath in the surprisingly spacious guest room bathroom before retiring to the incredibly comfortable bed for sleep.

The next day, with my biological clock fully accustomed to Texas time, I woke up at what would normally be my usual hour, but in Boston, it was an hour later.

Despite being miles away from home, my routine had to remain the same. Dressed in comfortable and warm clothes, I left the guest room ready to go for my daily run.

"Good morning, Mr. Duncan. I hope you had a pleasant night's sleep. Would you be interested in a cup of coffee or possibly a glass of orange juice?" Alfred, dressed in what seemed to be his uniform and a completely calm apron, asked from the doorway leading to what I could tell was the kitchen.

"Good morning, Alfred," quickly ignoring the surprise of the man's presence at such an early hour I said, "a glass of water when I return from my run would be perfect, thank you very much," I continued. I still didn't drink coffee, and although orange juice sounded very appealing, I preferred to save it for breakfast rather than before running.

"I understand. Have a fruitful run, and watch out for the ice on the sidewalk, it's slippery at this time of the year," Alfred said with a barely perceptible smile as he re-entered the kitchen.

Unlike at home, the start of the run was complete agony. The almost freezing air stung with every breath until I could get accustomed a few minutes into the run. As Alfred had mentioned, the sidewalk on the street was extremely slippery; more than once, I nearly fell while trying to stop on the icy pavement.

Apart from the weather and the difficulty of running on frozen streets, running somewhere other than my neighborhood was a welcome change. Watching the sunrise, seeing the houses, and observing other people going about their lives made me feel somehow alive.

After finishing the run and returning to the Thomases' house, no one except Alfred was awake. Taking a glass of water that Alfred oddly had prepared on a tray along with a small towel, which I avoided touching to avoid dirtying unnecessary things.

"I hope your run was fruitful," Alfred said, keeping his body completely straight with one hand hidden behind his back as he held the tray.

"Yes, thank you for the water," returning the glass to the tray carefully to not interfere with the balance the man had while holding it.

"You're welcome," Alfred replied, inclining his head slightly. "Breakfast is about to begin; I recommend you hurry with your bath," he continued, checking a watch he had inside his suit before entering the kitchen again.

Every morning after waking up, I made my bed before my daily run. Upon entering the guest room, what I had done with the bed was completely replaced by Alfred's obvious meticulous work. The bed looked like something out of a magazine, perfectly made; it even seemed like the room had been cleaned during my absence.

Preparing the clean clothes I would wear after my bath, following the butler's advice, I quickly took a relaxing hot bath before heading downstairs again.

In the dining room, the Thomases were already seated with breakfast plates seemingly freshly served in front of them.

"Ah, PJ, join us. I hope you like pancakes; Alfred makes the best ones on the East Coast," Dr. Thomas said kindly, clasping his hands together and indicating an empty seat at the table.

"Even away from home, you continue to exercise in the mornings," Dottie said with her ever-present kind smile. "It's a great quality to have discipline."

"I've always said, exercising is the best way to start a morning," Dr. Thomas exaggeratedly said, ignoring a strange look his wife gave him.

"More syrup for your pancakes, dear?" Dottie asked with an ironic smile, raising a small pitcher.

"Oh, yes, please," Dr. Thomas replied cheerfully, reaching out his hand to take the small pitcher, much to Dottie's amusement.

After finishing breakfast, Dottie, who had to 'freshen up,' left with Frank, while Dr. Thomas and I, in another car of the couple's, set off for the Harvard Medical School campus.

"Oh, you'll love it, PJ. It's too cold for students to fill the gardens right now so sadly we will not be able to appreciate the view of the gardens full of people doing their things, we have one of the largest medical libraries in the country, the best professors in the country, and top-notch facilities," Dr. Thomas said enthusiastically as he drove, with no intention of hiding his obvious plan to interest me in the school.

The journey to the campus was surprisingly short, and in a few minutes, I saw the building that was filled with so many memories. It was exactly as I could remember it, at least the school was. There were shops and businesses around the campus that I didn't recognize.

During my time on campus in my past life, I wasn't someone who ventured much beyond the four walls of the dorm, library, or classroom. There were few occasions when, managing to gather a few dollars, I ventured off-campus to one of the nearby cafes to escape the crowds.

All these changes I encountered could or could not make sense considering the year I was in. In my past life, I hadn't entered medical school until many years later, possibly these few places I remembered outside the campus had not yet been built.

"Impressive, isn't it?" Dr. Thomas asked, bringing me out of my thoughts with a smile that bordered on arrogance.

"Yeah," I simply replied.

After parking Dr. Thomas's car in its designated spot, we entered the administration building, where many of the doctors' private offices were located. "I just need to take care of some important documents I need to review, and we can take a quick tour if we still have time," the doctor said, smiling oddly.

Outside one of the offices, Dr. Thomas greeted a woman who was carefully reviewing some documents. "Ah, Dr. Thomas, is it already so late?" the woman asked nervously, quickly checking her wristwatch.

"Oh, no, don't worry. I came a bit early to finish reviewing the board papers," the doctor said with a slight smile, quickly calming the nervous secretary.

"Wait..." checking a small notebook on her desk with a furrowed brow, the woman said slowly, "those papers have been ready for several days, doctor. I don't have anything else on your schedule," she continued.

"Oh, that's right," with what I immediately discerned as false surprise, the doctor exclaimed, "I completely forgot." Turning back to me still in his act, the elderly man continued, "It seems we have time for a full tour of the campus, what luck," checking his own wristwatch, Dr. Thomas said with a slight smile.

"Yeah, luck" I said amused. There was no need to 'trick' me into coming for a tour; I would have gladly come, but it was funny to see the doctor be proud of himself.

"Let's go," cheerfully clapping his hands together in a resounding applause and with much excitement, Dr. Thomas said before walking towards the campus, "oh, Mallory, please take the rest of the day off; I hope to see you tonight," the doctor stopped, turning to his now smiling secretary, "sure thing, doctor. Thank you," the woman replied cheerfully.

"Let's go, PJ, we have a lot to see," urging me forward, Dr. Thomas said, walking surprisingly quickly for someone his age.

With Dr. Thomas obviously interested in showing me everything the school had to offer, we walked through the premises.

"And here we have another lecture hall," after checking his wristwatch several times, Dr. Thomas said before silently pushing open another door.

The place was surprisingly crowded, which was usual depending on your schedule organization, as classes on Saturdays were common. It was also possible that there were guest speakers giving a lecture.

"It seems there's a lecture," whispering, Dr. Thomas, obviously feigning surprise once again, said as he gently nudged me to enter.

Urging me to take a seat in one of the free chairs at the back of the auditorium, Dr. Thomas sat beside me, gesturing silently to a surprised student next to us to quiet down.

"So, having this list of symptoms," the man at the front, an older man, possibly a few years younger than Dr. Thomas, said with great theatricality, "is anyone willing to take a guess and offer a diagnosis for everyone present?" maintaining his cheerful demeanor, he asked, moving around in front of the room.

Turning to look at Dr. Thomas, I found the man smiling innocently at me. Well played, doctor.

"Pancreatic cancer. To confirm it, I would conduct diagnostic tests, blood analysis, liver function, tomography, ultrasound, and biopsy," interrupting the silence that the doctor's question had created, one of the students quickly said, apparently winning over a few others who tried to raise their hands.

Suppressing a small amused snort, I lowered my head; only with the symptoms, not the medical history? Not even House would do that... Well, actually.

"Quick response, and in line with several textbooks, indeed," the doctor at the front of the class smiled. "When you hear hoofbeats, think of horses not zebras." After a few seconds of silence, the doctor continued, "does anyone know what this means?" he asked again.

"The importance of considering the most common and probable explanations for a patient's symptoms first, rather than rare or unlikely causes," another student immediately responded, apparently learning from the first one's example.

"Yes," pointing to the student who answered, the presenting doctor nodded immediately, "while it may be true that symptoms like abdominal pain, unexplained weight loss, jaundice, fatigue, and changes in bowel habits are early symptoms of pancreatic cancer, I cheated a bit in my first question, does anyone know how?" he asked again.

After the doctor's question, no other student responded as they discussed quietly among themselves.

As the students whispered, Dr. Thomas beside me lightly nudged my elbow, silently urging me with his head to answer.

Quickly shaking my head, I responded silently to the man.

"I know Dr. Eaton, don't worry," Dr. Thomas murmured to me, apparently deducing that my lack of interest in responding was due to fear of interrupting the class. The truth was, I gained nothing but attention by responding; I wasn't enrolled in this class.

"It seems everything House says about you is a lie," with a sigh, turning his head in what I could discern as another act of feigned disappointment, Dr. Thomas said. Why would he want to draw attention to me now? It would serve no purpose.

"Anyone?" maintaining his smile, Dr. 'Eaton' at the front of the auditorium asked.

Sighing again, Dr. Thomas symbolically nudged me.

No one would respond, why should I? "There's not enough medical history," I responded loudly, immediately hearing the seats in front of me creak as the students turned their bodies.

Dr. Thomas triumphantly raised his hand to cover half of his smiling face.

"We have all the symptoms, what else do we need?" with clear disdain in his voice, the first student who had responded to a question asked, obviously trying to mock me.

"Yes, Mr..." Dr. Eaton smiled slightly as he searched and put on a pair of glasses he had hanging from his coat.

"Duncan," I replied, already regretting my response.

"So, Mr. Duncan, what else might we need?" widening his smile as he glanced at Dr. Thomas beside me, Dr. Eaton asked.

"I don't know, many things, medications the patient frequently take, the job, lifestyle, duration and intensity of symptoms, when they appeared, the age, ethnicity, nationality, so many things that we can't appreciate just with symptoms written on a board," I responded seriously, ignoring the amused glances of the other students present.

"Why would we need to know about your job and lifestyle?" much more arrogantly, the first student who had responded to a question asked once again.

"Another good question, Mr. Duncan," apparently not interested in interrupting whatever was happening, Dr. Eaton said cheerfully.

"Depending on age, there are many things that could be explained by a person's job or lifestyle with those symptoms. If it's a man who works in an environment where he uses force constantly, possibly the prolonged use of NSAIDs for muscle pain could cause gastritis, the foods he consumes in his daily life could indicate if the patient could have peptic ulcers, any inflammatory bowel disease would present with the same symptoms, Crohn's disease, ulcerative colitis, even a person can suddenly develop celiac disease, which would explain many of the symptoms," I explained directly, looking at the guy a few years older than me.

"Absolutely correct," smiling widely, Dr. Eaton said, "although there's one symptom you didn't list." Pointing to jaundice on the board, Dr. Eaton continued, squinting his eyes apparently waiting for me to continue.

Recalling my first interaction with House, I couldn't help but smile faintly. "Does the patient eat a lot of carrots?" I asked, making Dr. Thomas beside me snort amusedly, an action that Dr. Eaton imitated but leting out a loud laugh, while the other people in the auditorium, puzzled by the presenter's behavior to my response, began to discuss among themselves again.

"Certainly, carotene, the active component of carrots, in excessive intake can tint a patient's skin yellow," nodding slightly, the doctor explained, causing the students to jot down notes in their notebooks.

"It could also be a accumulation of excess bilirubin, but again, only with a better medical history would we know for sure," I said.

"Again, correct," Dr. Eaton pointed at me, saying, "Mr. Duncan, are you aware that this is an introductory class?" Dr. Eaton, losing his smile, asked seriously, squinting behind his glasses, seemingly trying to clarify my presence.

"Now he does, Josef," interrupting whatever my response might have been, Dr. Thomas said.

"Ah, then if he was your companion, Don," smiling again, Dr. Eaton said.

"This is PJ from Texas, whom I mentioned earlier. We were taking a tour when we stumbled upon your class and interrupted," Dr. Thomas explained as if it hadn't been their plan from the start.

"Ah, PJ Duncan, of course," smiling broadly, Dr. Eaton said, snapping his fingers. "It's not an interruption. Mr. Duncan here significantly accelerated much of what I had planned for today's class," the man continued, amused.

"So, we'll let you continue with the rest of your class in peace, Josef," checking his watch, Dr. Thomas said. "Youngsters, you may have heard from some of your professors that coming to medical school is constantly a competition," Dr. Thomas, standing up, calmly announced to the class. "It is, but that doesn't mean you compete with disdain for your future colleagues," he continued, obviously focusing on the impassive student. "Be curious, not judgmental."

"Thank you for your words, Don," maintaining his friendly smile from the front, Dr. Eaton said, slightly nodding his head. "I hope to meet again soon, Mr. Duncan," bidding me farewell, the doctor continued.

"What incredible luck to come across a medical diagnostic class by Josef Eaton. He's been my colleague for many years. In fact, if I recall correctly, he taught a few tricks to your current mentor," outside the auditorium as we walked through the school halls, Dr. Thomas said. "If you come to this school, I'm sure you'll refine whatever Gregory teaches you."

"Yeah sure," I could only scoff, denying the man's shamelessness.

"We still have some time to grab a cup of coffee before heading home. I know a good place off-campus," leading the way, Dr. Thomas said as we walked.

In one of the establishments I didn't recognize, Dr. Thomas, after greeting the waitress familiarly, ordered two cups of coffee while telling me a bit of his story.

For several minutes, the doctor narrated his residency days and how tiring but rewarding the whole process could be, as well as his time as a chief physician in a hospital in New York.

When he checked his watch again after we both finished our coffee, rhythmically tapping the table with his fingers, he took his wallet and left some bills on the table. "It's time to be even more celebrated," the doctor said, exaggeratedly proud, standing up.

During the ride back, Dr. Thomas continued to tell me stories about his youth and the time he spent in the military.

When we arrived at the Thomas' house, the other car in which Dottie and Frank had left moments before Dr. Thomas and I, was parked on the side of the beautiful house.

Upon entering the house, Dr. Thomas nervously stopped me for a moment before saying, "Oh my God, we're later than I expected. I don't mind being a few minutes late, but Dottie would murder us, especially me."

"Don't worry, doctor," I said, amused by the man's sudden anxiety.

I really didn't need that much time to get ready. 

Once again, in the guest room, the work of the house butler left me completely surprised. The outfit I had bought the day before at the airport was ominously laid out, completely stretched and apparently ironed on the bed.

It felt strange, as if my movements were planned by someone else.

After overcoming the ordeal that strangely prepared clothing had left me, I quickly dressed. I had only worn such a 'formal' outfit thrice: the first day of medical school, the day of my job interview and and the day mom was buried every time wearing the same suit.

After fixing myself up, I went downstairs to find Dr. Thomas surprisingly already dressed faster than me.

"That was quick," I said, still surprised that a man his age could change clothes so fast.

"You'd be surprised what fear can achieve," laughing, Dr. Thomas said. "Oh, let me," approaching me, the man said as he undid the tie knot I had made. I had learned to tie them myself, and it had been a long time since I had done one, so it was obviously poorly done.

"Oh, don't worry about this. I remember when Junior wore a suit for the first time, we were about to cut the tie so he could breathe properly," apparently seeing the embarrassment on my face, Dr. Thomas explained, amused, finishing the knot and stepping back to see his work.

"Looking sharp, doctor, Mr. Duncan," coming out of the kitchen with his expressionless face, Alfred said. "By the way, Mr. Duncan, your dirty laundry is all washed. I hope you don't mind that I took the liberty," with a hint of a small smile, the butler said again, making me nervous for some reason.

"Thank you," avoiding the strange feeling that practically a complete stranger was washing my underwear, I said.

A few minutes later, Dottie, also dressed up, joined us. "I can't believe my luck. Today, I'll go celebrate the second best thing that ever happened to me in life, and I'll go with the best thing that ever happened to me in life," smiling at his wife, Dr. Thomas said. "And PJ," he added a moment later with amusement.

"You're an incurable flatterer," turning her face, Dottie said, trying to hide a big smile.

"I just say what I really think," defending himself, Dr. Thomas said.

"Yeah sure, that's why you took PJ to the campus so early, you didn't have any other motives," squinting her eyes, Dottie said seriously.

"Oh, look at the time, I don't want to be late," checking his watch, Dr. Thomas said, gently taking Dottie's arm and guiding her out of the house.

Smiling conspiratorially at Dottie, I followed the couple out of the house to the car where Frank was waiting for us. "How about you join me in the front seat, PJ?" the driver said before closing the rear door behind the elderly couple.

"Sure," seeing how close Dr. Thomas and Dottie got into the car, laughing, I decided not to bother them in the back, surely Frank thought the same.

"It's just uncomfortable the first few times; give it some time, and you'll get used to wearing it like your second skin," Frank said, noticing my uncomfortable movements. During the car ride, I could feel how the suit jacket restricted my body a bit, especially my arms and chest. Sitting down seemed to tighten even more for some reason.

"When sitting down, you also have to unbutton, and when you stand up again, button the upper buttons, never the bottom one," pointing at my jacket, the man continued, "you do it only using your right hand and without looking down." Taking his right hand off the steering wheel, Frank showed me how in his own jacket.

"Is there anything else I should know?" I asked, genuinely interested. I didn't know a single thing of what the man had exposed to me; I was sure there was a ridiculous amount of etiquettes of which I had no idea.

"That's basically it. It'll teach you how to order a Martini the right way, but you're still too young to drink," keeping his eyes on the road, the driver said with a strange but meaningful smile.

After several more minutes of driving, we arrived at what seemed to be an event hall with several cars parked outside. Once again, after bidding farewell to Frank, I followed the elderly couple into the venue.

"Ah, Frederick, I'm so glad you could make it," immediately upon entering the place, Dr. Thomas greeted someone cheerfully.

The place was surprisingly crowded with people, all adults, some much older than others, but none close to my age, I mean, it was obvious, but for some reason, I felt strange seeing that the only people near my age were those carrying trays with small plates of food and drinks.

"Allow me to introduce you to PJ Duncan, an incredibly bright young prodigy," Dr. Thomas said, taking me by the shoulder and approaching the man he was talking to. "PJ, this is Dr. Frederick Titan, chairman of the state medical board," as I shook hands with the some truly important doctor, Dr. Thomas said.

The state medical board is responsible for regulating the practice of medicine and granting medical licenses.

"If I recall correctly from the article, you're from Texas Tech University; you seem extremely young," shaking my hand kindly, Dr. Titan said.

"Oh, you don't know the half of it. PJ isn't even in college yet; in fact, he hasn't finished high school," Dr. Thomas said, laughing a moment later at the surprise on the faces of the few people who were listening to the conversation.

"I beg your pardon," surprised, Dr. Titan said, opening his eyes widely. "You're still in high school?" he asked.

"I'm in my freshman year," I responded, somewhat embarrassed for some reason.

"Truly impressive," nodding with surprise, Dr. Titan said. "How do you have enough knowledge to be helpful in such an article?" with a touch of disbelief, Dr. Titan asked.

"I have access to a lot of medical study material," I replied.

"Gregory House, who was once a protege of mine a long time ago, took PJ under his wing, and Texas Tech allowed PJ access to its library," putting his hand on my shoulder, seemingly with pride, Dr. Thomas said.

"Ah, Gregory House, I know him," nodding strangely, Dr. Titan gave me a scrutinizing look, apparently studying my way of acting.

"Dr. House is a great doctor, and I learn a lot about medicine from him," feeling like I would have to say it many more times throughout the night, I said, emphasizing the word 'medicine,' making it clear that I wasn't the same as House.

"Well, whoever teaches you, I'm sure you'll go far," regaining his friendly smile, Dr. Titan said.

"Get in line, Frederick," smiling friendly at the other doctor, Dr. Thomas said with a hint of warning.

It seemed that Dr. Thomas had already decided that I would be another of his 'protégés.'

"Always the same, Don. I don't understand how you manage to find so many brilliant minds," amused, Dr. Titan shook his eyes.

"Well, unlike others, Frederick, I decided to focus my career on teaching, and from time to time, I find these brilliant minds," triumphantly smiling, Dr. Thomas said shaking my shoulder with pride.

"Blah, it's pointless to argue. I hope to meet again, PJ, whenever you need something, you can call," taking a card from his jacket, Dr. Titan said, handing it to me. I had obtained the business card with the direct number of an important figure without any problem.

After that, following Dr. Thomas, who was happily dragging me around the place, I met many other equally important people. As time went by, the event hall began to fill up, as did the pocket where I had started to keep the business cards.

One of the other people I met under Dr. Thomas's guidance was his co-author, the surgeon Joseph Murray. "Who would've thought you're really a teenager? I thought it was a bad joke from Don," laughing cheerfully, Dr. Murray said, energetically shaking my hand.

"I assure you, the last time I checked, I'm completely real," smiling kindly at the man who had allowed my name to appear in an article he co-authored, I repeated the joke I had made when I met Dr. Thomas at the airport many hours ago.

"I can see that. Have you eaten or had anything to drink?" holding my shoulder, Dr. Murray asked, "at that bar, you can order whatever you want; I'm sure they have some non-alcoholic drink," pointing to a bar at the side of the event hall, the doctor continued.

Taking the man's kind hint, I thanked him as I said goodbye to the two celebrated doctors because apparently, they had things to discuss privately.

I was certainly very thirsty; I had been introduced to dozens of people and therefore had to repeat hundreds of words.

"Can I have a glass of water? Please," approaching the bartender, I said, receiving a tall glass of refreshing water.

"Dr. Grey, how nice to see you here today," someone said a few steps away from me, catching my attention. I had learned that name a long time ago through a surprising surgical procedure. A few steps away from me, an older man was talking to a strangely serious-looking woman who appeared to be my mother's age. 

I had read a lot about Dr. Ellis Grey, winner two years ago of an award given to the best surgeons in the country, which I had never heard of, the Harper Avery.

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Author's Thoughts:

As always, I'm not American, not a doctor, and not a fighter.

I have no idea what's inside a medical school, so I completely invented it, don't sue me.

I've added some important characters for the next volume of the novel in this chapter; some may be quite obvious, but others perhaps not so much. Let's see who's the first to decipher the origins of these characters.

By the way, I highly doubt I need to make this clarification, but apart from images on Google, the closest I've been to the Harvard Medical School campus is approximately 3,686.46 km (2,290.66 mi) in a straight line, according to Google Maps.

With that said,

I think that's all. As always, if you find any errors, please let me know, and I'll correct them immediately.

Thank you for reading! :D

PS: PLEASE LEAVE A REVIEW.