Medical Center. Ward.
"…They told me this heart came from a young girl. She was hitchhiking when she got hit and killed. Now, every time I drive, I keep seeing girls trying to hitch a ride."
The patient explained, "I never should've taken this heart. Us Navajo don't even touch dead bodies. Their souls linger on them. Stitching a dead person's body into mine? That's just…"
"Wait a sec," Adam cut in, surprised. "Mr. Bidoni, didn't you come here for a new heart transplant?"
"No!" Mr. Bidoni shouted. "I don't want a new heart! I'm here to get you to take her heart out of me!"
"You don't want a new heart?" Dr. Dixon chimed in. "Clay Bidoni, do you realize that without a new heart, you'll only survive a short time on machines before a sudden, excruciating death?"
"…"
The short guy gave Dr. Dixon a speechless look before glancing at Adam. His eyes practically screamed, "Dr. Duncan, this is nothing like the 'stay detached but not cold' vibe you taught us!" 😅
Adam shot him a calming "take it easy" look.
"I really appreciate you telling me what you think is best for me…" Mr. Bidoni said, pausing. He shook his head with a good-natured smile. "But it's not advice—it's a fact."
Dr. Dixon's bluntness was so Sheldon-level intense it could've broken the ceiling. 😂
"…What I'm trying to say," Mr. Bidoni continued with a bitter smile, "is that I'd rather live with a clear conscience, however long that may be, than feel guilty every day. Right now, all I care about is what'll happen to this heart once it's out of me."
"It'll go to pathology, then get disposed of as medical waste," Dr. Dixon replied matter-of-factly.
"I want it back," Mr. Bidoni insisted. "To use in a ceremony."
"We have to follow the law. The hospital has rules—rules are rules!" Dr. Dixon's gaze darted around as she stressed, "You can't break the rules!" With that, she turned and walked off.
"Mr. Bidoni, we'll look into your request," Adam said soothingly before following her out.
"Dr. Duncan," the short guy hurried after him, lowering his voice. "I've got an idea. Dr. Dixon's clearly one of those 'rules above all' types. But we should try to meet the patient's needs too. How about we go to the director and make a new rule—like, respecting patients with religious beliefs? That way, everybody wins!"
"Not a bad idea," Adam nodded, then smirked. "It might work. Dr. Dixon would definitely follow a new hospital rule. But do you think she's an idiot? Or that an idiot could become a renowned cardiothoracic surgeon?"
"Uh… no," the short guy faltered.
"Of course not!" Adam laughed. "The director wants us to keep her around. Would your plan really work? If we didn't respect her, why bother with all this? I'd just take over the surgery myself!"
"Got it," the short guy nodded, then frowned. "But Dr. Duncan, she's so different from what you've taught us."
"Every top doctor has their own quirks," Adam said, looking at him. "Compared to Dr. House next door, Dr. Dixon's basically normal. House has a rotten temper and a sharp tongue, but he can save patients no one else can. That's why he gets away with ignoring basic rules—patients and families need him. Even someone as great as House struggles because of his weird habits. If you become a legendary doctor someday, I don't want you copying him. What I teach you is the standard way. Dr. Dixon? She's not as brilliant as House, but she doesn't have his bad attitude either. She's just socially awkward—it's not that she doesn't want to connect; she can't. Get it?"
"Yeah," the short guy hesitated. "But if she's got that issue, why be a doctor? Wouldn't she be better off as a lab researcher, away from people?"
"Maybe her dream was to heal and save lives," Adam said with a smile. "She might be socially awkward, but what if her heart isn't cold? What if she actually wants to connect with people? There are all kinds of reasons. As long as she does her job well, we respect her. And the fact that she's a top doctor—and hasn't lost her license—says it all."
The short guy fell silent.
Operating Room.
Dr. Dixon led the surgery, with Adam as first assistant and the short guy as second.
"She's cutting through the adhesions so fast—I've only seen that speed from one other doctor," the short guy said, impressed.
Dr. Dixon didn't react, fully focused on the procedure. Seeing that, the short guy shut up, and the room went quiet.
"All right, the donor heart's detached. The bypass cannula's ready. Next step is the L-avd—huh?!" Adam said, holding the separated heart, then gasped. "This isn't right. It's impossible—it's beating! It shouldn't have a pulse!"
Dr. Dixon's eyes widened. "That's impossible!"
"It's possible," Adam said quickly. "Dr. Dixon, in heterotopic heart transplantation, both the patient's original heart and the donor heart can work together to circulate blood. Over six years, Mr. Bidoni's own heart must've repaired itself in this system and regained full function. It's rare, but it's documented."
"Highly unusual! But yes, it's been recorded," Dr. Dixon said, glancing at Adam. "I've never seen it."
"Me neither," Adam grinned. "Looks like Mr. Bidoni doesn't need a new heart after all."
Dr. Dixon nodded and kept working.
As the surgery wrapped up, she suddenly spoke. "I'm only interested in one thing: the heart. I love it—the way it beats so predictably. I love it because I understand it completely. I love its color—it's comforting."
"I believe you," Adam said with a smile. "Passion's the root of greatness, and your skills are incredible, Dr. Dixon."
"What happens to the removed heart?" she asked.
"It goes to pathology. After that, it's between the hospital and the patient," Adam replied. "You've done your part perfectly with this surgery—that's enough."
"Dr. Duncan, does your friend have Asperger's too?" Dr. Dixon glanced at him.
The short guy's eyes shot over. Now he believed Adam's take. People with Asperger's aren't lonely inside—they crave connection and try hard to make it happen. But they miss nonverbal cues like facial expressions and body language, lack social finesse, and often get isolated. They don't catch sarcasm, humor, or metaphors, their interactions feel stiff and formal, and they're super literal. Plus, there's the fixed routines—eating, bathroom breaks, sleep—and niche obsessions… the whole package.
"Oh, totally!" Adam laughed. "My friend's not just got Asperger's—he's also got hardcore OCD, germaphobia, narcissism, extreme cowardice… and a bunch of other quirks that haven't popped up yet. But like Newton and Einstein, who might've had it too, he's a legit genius."
Dr. Dixon looked away and went quiet.
Outside the Operating Room.
Mr. Bidoni woke up, and he and Dr. Dixon debated faith. She only trusted science. He argued science was just a tangible kind of faith. Both were chill about it—shared their views and left it there.
"Dr. Dixon, how're you feeling?" the surgical director asked later, waiting by the elevator as she walked up in her red suit.
"I like it here," she said, stepping into the elevator without acknowledging him—exactly what he'd been hoping to hear.
(End of Chapter)