Evolution 2030: Studying Medicine Won't Save Americans

Chapter 25 From Intellectual Young Woman to Mad Beauty

"What's wrong?" Dalia asked, puzzled by the sudden change in atmosphere.

"It's nothing." Helena shook her head. "It was a bit of a surprise... I was mentally prepared to go to a primary care physician."

Upon hearing the news, Helena was momentarily unsure whether to be happy or sad.

Dalia did these things without consulting her or even telling her, which made her feel a little bit of self-control vanish instantly.

It felt like I was back in my mother's ever-present shadow, an inescapable presence even if I gave up neurosurgery.

But Helena also knows that her smooth academic journey to where she is today is inseparable from the help she received from her mother.

Saying you don't want this letter of recommendation now would not only ruin the hard-won warm atmosphere, but would also seem unreasonable and even hypocritical.

After all, neurology was indeed her first choice.

Helena sat there blankly for a while, then got up.

She worried that, given her current awkward mood, if she stayed in the living room, she might say something rather irrational.

That may not be what one truly wants to express.

"I'll go log into the resident matching system..." Helena made up an excuse, got up and went upstairs. "Aunt Fuss's recommendation letter should be available by now."

Dalia could tell that her daughter didn't seem happy, so she raised her hand to call out to Helena.

But I couldn't think of anything to say after calling her back, so I gave up and watched my daughter's figure disappear around the corner of the stairs.

Then, he got up, went upstairs, and returned to his study.

After closing the door, she completely abandoned her elegant posture, slumped back in her office chair, and sighed with utter frustration.

Then, somewhat defiantly, she ripped off the rubber band holding her hair back, and frantically tangled her hair and shirt, letting her golden hair completely obscure her vision, and the two buttons on her collar were nowhere to be seen.

In less than half a minute, she transformed from an intellectual young woman into a crazy, beautiful woman—

She has realized that she is likely to be a failed mother, but she has no idea how to make amends or even where the problem lies.

They can only vent their frustrations through this irrational method.

But as the deputy director of neurosurgery at Langone Medical Center, he couldn't let anyone see him like this.

Otherwise, at best it will damage your image, and at worst it will trigger a career crisis.

Rich people are very picky.

How can anyone entrust the most delicate medical procedures to a doctor who can't even control her own emotions?

Therefore, Dalia only dared to act crazy for a short while in places where there was absolutely no chance of anyone else appearing.

For example, toilet cubicles or bathrooms.

At most, add an office or study.

……

On the other side, Helena also closed her bedroom door, and without any regard for her image, she leaped into the soft mattress, spreading her body out in a starfish shape, burying her upper body and head in the blankets.

When she sat up again a dozen seconds later, she had already taken on a similar pose to Dalia.

It's just that the scrub suit doesn't have buttons, so it's still intact.

She didn't need to turn on her computer at all; she logged into the hospital resident matching website on her phone while going upstairs.

The recommendation letter that Fusi uploaded was in the most prominent position.

After clicking on it, there was only one short sentence inside.

"Helena Murphy possesses the rare combination of intellectual rigor and surgical precision in her clinical reasoning, a testament to her upbringing in a household where neurological excellence is the baseline, not the goal. She is predestined for academic neurology.

—Dr. Margaret Voss

Helena Murphy's clinical reasoning combines rigorous intellect with surgical precision—a rare combination that reflects her upbringing in a family where excellence in neurology was the benchmark, not the goal. She was destined for a career in academic neurology.

—Dr. Margaret Furs

Helena certainly knew the significance of those forty words.

Margaret Furst is the Associate Director of the Comprehensive Epilepsy Center at New York University and an Evaluation Committee Member for the Neurology Residency Training Program.

They may still be some distance from the real leadership, but they are already authoritative enough in academia.

Her recommendation is enough to open the door to the neurology department of any hospital.

Even if the person recommended is a novice who only wants to "convert" to neurology in their third year of medical school.

Even if there are a hundred or even a thousand competitors who have been aiming for neurology since first grade, their evaluation scores are all ahead of this newcomer.

Of course, this wasn't the first time Helena had received similar treatment.

The recommendation for my medical school admission was provided by the medical director of Langone Medical Center.

What Kofus wrote was, in a sense, extremely ironic—

While rigorous intellect is worthy of some praise, surgery is by no means synonymous with precision for someone who is squeamish about blood.

The claim that it was "destined to be involved" makes this letter of recommendation seem more like a judgment.

Although the verdict was exactly what Helena wanted.

It wasn't until her phone started vibrating again that her thoughts were pulled back to reality.

A private message from Instagram.

Helena finally smiled again when she saw the sender's name.

It's Chen Yisen.

The content made her feel genuinely relaxed:

On my way home, I ran into Omar, who told me that Stacey had undergone surgery and was out of danger, but would need to stay in the hospital for intravenous nutritional support.

Helena temporarily put her awkwardness aside, her slender fingers rapidly tapping the screen as she replied to the message almost without thinking:

What surgery did Stacey undergo?

Chen Yisen, on the other end of the internet connection, had just gotten off the bus near the apartment a few minutes earlier. Then he remembered his appointment with Helena after get off work, so he sent her a message to tell her the situation.

Seeing this reply almost triggered my PTSD.

What happened to the promised "reason for staying in touch"?

Shouldn't we take this opportunity to start talking about something else?

Life, ideals, hobbies... and so on.

Why is it like a group meeting, with academic discussions now?

But despite the complaints, it wasn't right not to answer since the girl had asked.

[If you can't even clearly name the medications Omar Lianshan, Scopolamine, and Norfloxacin, how could you possibly know the type of surgery?]

However, I suspect it was a duodenojejunostomy, which involves directly cutting away the obstructed part of the intestine and then suturing the remaining portion back together. Because if it were just about releasing the ligaments around the duodenum, a long hospital stay wouldn't be necessary.

Soon, Helena asked the same question that Chen Yisen had just asked:

Why wasn't he at the hospital with his wife?

Chen Yisen thought about it and decided it was better to avoid trouble, so he didn't mention that Omar had sold his blood twice that afternoon.

Octopamar is a long-term partner of the New York City public health system's blood bank. For them to dare to violate this rule, they must be the elephant in the room; it's probably become a long-standing practice.

There's no point in telling Helena, a medical student, these things, except to add to her worries.

So this is just a reply:

He needed to earn money for Stacey's medical expenses, so he signed a contract with Columbia Presbyterian Hospital for a three-week closed-door drug trial.

The clinical trial industry is a public and legal entity in the United States, and no one would think there's anything wrong with it.

However, everyone knows that only those who have no other choice and need to make quick money will choose this path.

So this time, Helena didn't send another message for several minutes:

I can give Stacy some money if needed.

Chen Yisen felt that his definition of Helena that afternoon might have been wrong.

Although this girl has some leftist tendencies, she seems to have a genuinely kind heart.

At least they're better than those sanctimonious hypocrites.

However, out of a sense of responsibility for the careers of his juniors, he rejected the proposal.

People who are too humane usually find it difficult to become doctors at Western University.

If you are truly determined to pursue a career in primary healthcare, you will inevitably encounter countless people far more desperate than Omar and Stacy, but you cannot help them all.

It's best to adapt to this feeling as soon as possible; otherwise, even if you persevere through three years of inpatient training, it will be difficult to meet the performance evaluation standards set by the MCO organization.

Helena stared at the two latest text messages she had received on her phone, then drifted back into a daze.

Or rather, reflection.

I had been working hard to get into neurosurgery until my third year of medical school, and all my preparations were related to that.

However, it is clear that the patients who dare to walk into the neurosurgery clinic are at the very least ordinary middle-class people with full insurance coverage.

Therefore, she had only encountered truly marginalized people in the past while accumulating social work hours.

Such short-term contact cannot form a concrete concept; to a large extent, it is only to satisfy her own need to "do good."

Upon closer examination, Stacey appears to be the first patient she has consistently followed, and the initial motivation for this follow-up was not entirely pure; it was merely a pretext to reconnect with Chen Yisen.

After thinking for a moment, he sent out a new message.

I received a recommendation letter from the neurology department, but I'm hesitant about whether I should go...

Helena removed her mother's identity and sensitive information such as the specific source of the recommendation letter, and roughly described her conflicted feelings.

Of course, she wouldn't entrust such an important decision to someone she'd only known for less than a day.

I just wanted to hear what an outsider would think.

But Chen Yisen was destined not to see this message immediately.

He met another woman at the apartment entrance.