After I got into the drama, I led the plot astray

Although the doctor named Shen was wearing a mask, his eyes were sharp and he said dissatisfiedly: "Go to the conference room and tell the dean that he will be there in about 20 minutes. Let him discuss the meeting rules with the experts first."

The nurse had no choice but to return the cup to Dr. Shen and walked out with red eyes.

This Doctor Shen is quite arrogant. He even dared to be late for the expert meeting. Who is he?

When Dr. Shen saw me glaring at him, he shook the cup in his hand and asked, "Do you want some more water?"

I was almost choked by the water just now and hadn't recovered yet, so I shook my head.

Dr. Shen then put the cup back on the bedside table and said, "I have to go to a meeting. There is a switch next to your bed. If you need anything, just press the button to call the nurse."

I nodded.

Doctor Shen turned around and tried to leave, and I reached out and grabbed his white coat.

Mr. Shen turned his head and looked at me in confusion.

I pointed at myself and then at him. What I meant was, do I know him?

Doctor Shen obviously understood what was going on, but he gently pulled out his white coat and said, "Your condition has just stabilized, so you still need to rest more and don't let your imagination run wild."

After Dr. Shen finished speaking, he turned around and left.

I looked at Dr. Shen's back and felt that he was very much like a certain person, with an arrogant and cold look in his eyes, and he spoke ruthlessly and viciously, and even his back carried a cold and murderous aura.

But, how could it be?

I must have been in a coma for too long and have developed delusions.

I'd better get some more sleep. After I get enough sleep, my mind will naturally be clear.

But before I could close my eyes, the door was suddenly pushed open again, and an old man in a white coat walked in with a group of young-looking students who were also wearing white coats. They were obviously students from the medical school who came to the hospital for internship.

The old man pointed at me and said, "This patient has been in a coma for five years, and her body functions have been declining. We all thought she would not survive until the end of the year, but she suddenly woke up yesterday, and her body functions are recovering at an astonishing speed. This can be regarded as a medical miracle. So today you will use her as a case to conduct an in-depth study on the conditions under which the patient suddenly woke up? What are the reasons for the powerful recovery of various functions in her body?"

The old man was still muttering, and some students had already come up to me and were looking at me carefully.

When I was a student, I often followed my mentor to the hospital for internship. The profession of doctor is truly a practice that makes perfect. Only through continuous clinical consultations and accumulation of rich experience can one become a qualified doctor.

But now I am a patient, lying on the hospital bed, surrounded and stared at by a group of young boys and girls, I suddenly have a feeling that I am the tool corpse in the laboratory that has been soaked in Malfrine for who knows how long, has been dissected by students many times, had its internal organs taken out and put back, and has been repeatedly observed and studied countless times.

This feeling made me feel creepy. I curled up in the quilt nervously, looking at the face that came towards me one after another.

These students stared at me for a long time, but probably felt it was still not real enough, so they began to touch my face, my hair, and lift my eyelids. Some of them even took my hands out from under the quilt and looked at them repeatedly, as if they contained the key to unlock the answer. I suspect that if they had knives in their hands right now, they might really want to dissect me as an experimental corpse.

I felt nervous and angry. I had never known how embarrassing and awkward it was to be watched, observed and studied by others.

It’s a pity that I can’t say anything now, otherwise I would definitely tell them to get out.

Just when I was so embarrassed that I wanted to dig a hole to hide in, the old man finally spoke up and said, "Okay, you have been studying this patient for a long time. Now it's time to go to the archives to find her case file and study her pathology. After the rounds today, you have to write a review of what you saw and heard and hand it in to my office tomorrow."

"Yes." The students responded in unison.

After the old man finished speaking, he led the way away decisively.

Thank goodness they are finally gone!

I was so excited that I almost cried.

Now I finally understand why those patients looked at us with disgust when I followed my mentor to make ward rounds.

Although I hate being watched by a large group of people, I understood what the old man said.

I woke up suddenly and my physical functions were recovering rapidly. The old man said it was a medical miracle.

Can I wake up if it’s not because someone here called me back?

How did it become a medical miracle?

By the way, what about those people who conduct soul transfer experiments?

Shouldn't I come to see the experiment after I woke up? Why is it that it has been a day since I woke up, and apart from the doctors, nurses and these medical students interns, none of these researchers have shown up?

I was just daydreaming when a nurse came in with a bowl of porridge that looked like it was packed from outside.

The nurse came up to me and said with a smile: "You have been in a coma for so long, and your stomach is still weak, so I can only feed you some porridge appropriately in the next few days. When your stomach function recovers a little, you can eat rice."

I was currently receiving an IV drip of nutrient solution, so I wasn't feeling hungry, but when someone brought me the porridge, I couldn't refuse, so I nodded.

The nurse lifted my bed halfway so that I could lie more comfortably, and then slowly fed me porridge.

But this porridge is so unpalatable, with only clear soup and no meat, not even a single vegetable leaf.

I really couldn't eat any more, so I just closed my mouth and shook my head.

Seeing that I refused to eat, the nurse did not force me. She took a tissue to wipe my mouth and said, "If you don't want to eat, take a rest. I'll push you downstairs later to get some sun."

I haven't set foot on this land for five years, and I also wanted to go out and take a look, so I nodded quickly.

The nurse was about to leave, so I quickly grabbed her white coat and pointed at the cell phone in her pocket.

The nurse gave me a quizzical look and asked, "You want to make a phone call?"

I shook my head and pointed at my phone to ask her to unlock the door.

The nurse had to take out her cell phone, unlock the door with her fingerprint, and then handed the phone to me.

I found the text and typed in: "Can you please help me contact my parents?"

The nurse read the words and was silent for a while. After a long while, she said, "I'm sorry, Doctor Zhao. Your parents died in a car accident five years ago."

I was so shocked that I couldn't hold the phone steadily. It slipped from my hand. Luckily it fell on my thigh which was covered with a quilt, otherwise I might not have the money to compensate for the broken phone.

Seeing my panic, the nurse said with some remorse, "I shouldn't have told you this when you just woke up, but you asked me about it, and I didn't want to lie to you, so I had to tell you the truth. Please accept my condolences."