Daily American Drama

in the ward.

The patient, Mr. Paskowitz, lay with his eyes lost.

His wife sat by and knit a sweater.

Mr. Pascowitz, the X-ray film has come out. There is a large foreign object in your stomach, and now you can't expel it with diuretics.

Adam took the X-ray and explained the condition.

Oh, great.

The patient's wife complained while knitting a sweater: Doctor, can you reach into his buttocks and take it out?

Baby, please!

The patient immediately cried out in dissatisfaction.

no.

The corners of Adam's mouth twitched, maintaining a professional smile: Such a large foreign body is blocked there, and it must be removed by surgery. Now there is a problem, Mr. Paskowitz, can you tell me, what exactly are you doing? Did you eat anything?

Garbage, absolutely garbage!

The patient glanced at Adam and said vaguely.

Can you make it clearer?

Adam glanced at the patient's wife: We need to understand the situation in advance so that we can prepare better.

Tell him what you ate, Moore.

Seeing that her husband was still unwilling to speak, the patient's wife suppressed a smile and said, Doctor, please remind me that he is a writer and suffers a lot from his works.

Cavin?

Adam nodded: That was really tormenting.

You also know what Calvin feels like?

The patient looked skeptical.

certainly.

Adam laughed and said: The kind that can't write a single word, the more you write, the slower you write, your brain is like eight-treasure porridge, gurgling, confused, every time you write a sentence, your temples will twitch wildly, and the back of your head will be dazed. With a little effort, I want to cry but I can't cry, the despair of nowhere to escape when the catastrophe is imminent.

Hey!

The patient patted the bed and shouted, That's the feeling! You really understand! It's a great description!

This passage of Calvin's feelings, although not written by Adam.

But when Ya was just getting into writing on the Internet in his current life, and when he was sleeping with Wulin Wai Chuan at night, when he heard Lu Xiucai say this again, he felt that these words simply touched Adam's heart.

In the past, Adam was not suitable for writing compositions at all, but he just loved reading novels. Later, he read so many novels that it was difficult to find a book that suits him.

This is how I came up with the idea of ​​writing it myself.

Emotional at first.

Obviously, I am the one-in-a-million peerless master.

Like mortals, becoming a god from a book is not a dream.

But when he sat in front of the computer and couldn't read a word, he was instantly slapped hard.

Obviously, I am not.

That's it for the first attempt.

Then there is a period of time to rekindle the idea, give up, and rekindle the idea again.

It went on for several years before finally getting started.

Officially start writing.

During this period, Carvin was a common occurrence.

Lu Xiucai's words are the true voice of the screenwriter, so it not only resonated with Ya's current life, but also made the gringos applaud.

Without him!

It was too real and cruel.

One sentence tells the story of the bitterness of the hardworking author.

Of course we, Dr. Duncan, understand.

Carter, who was standing behind Adam, couldn't help but said, He is not only a doctor, but also a well-known writer.

Writer, Duncan...

The patient was taken aback, looked at Adam, and suddenly realized: You are the writer of the Lord of Mysteries, Adam Duncan!

right.

Adam smiled and nodded: Can you tell me now, what exactly did you eat?

He ate his novels.

The patient's wife, who was knitting a sweater, finally couldn't help but speak out.

what?

Carter was dumbfounded.

I ate the novel I wrote, the whole book, every page of that pile of rubbish!

cried the patient.

I've seen all the drafts, and it's not as bad as you think.

The patient's wife complained: If you didn't eat it all, maybe you could let this excellent fellow doctor take a look, maybe the ending wouldn't be as embarrassing as it is now.

...

The patient froze.

Apparently he thought of this question too.

If a well-known writer likes and recommends him, then he may really become famous in one fell swoop.

Unfortunately, it's too late now.

That's rotten!

cried the patient angrily.

Three years.

The patient's wife mocked: I listened to your anger and complaints just to see you eat it at the end?

Three years?

Adam was surprised and said, Write a book? Mr. Pascowitz, have you considered changing your job and writing while working, maybe you will be more inspired?

I'm a writer!

I don't need a backup plan! the patient said emotionally.

Ok.

Adam shrugged and didn't try to persuade.

After three years of writing a book, not only was it not published in the end, but all of it was eaten into the stomach, and it was sent to the hospital for expensive surgery.

This kind of input-output ratio has properly generated electricity for love.

Emmm.

Adam was a little annoyed for a while.

This kind of person actually has a wife...

Think about so many part-time writers who worked for love in their previous lives. After finishing their heavy work during the day, they had to stay up late at night to write, risking sudden death to earn a little hard-working coding fees.

Many people have nothing to generate electricity for love.

Even some full-time Internet writers who make money are discriminated against in the dating market.

How can it be like this Mr. Pascowitz, who can't write a book in three years, but still has his wife who will never leave him?

The gap!

Sure enough, the Internet writers in the previous life were the hardest ones!

People are more popular than people!

Mr. Pascowitz, we have booked an operating room for you, and in an hour...

Adam was talking about the operation arrangement when his eyes froze suddenly.

What's the matter, doctor?

The patient's wife still loved her husband, so she immediately became nervous when she saw this.

He's sweating.

Countless reasons for the illness flashed through Adam's mind, and he asked, How much paper have you eaten?

very many!

said the patient's wife.

Carter, draw blood from Mr. Paskowitz and send it to the toxicology lab for testing.

Adam commanded.

Yes, doctor.

Carter hurried forward and took a blood sample.

Doctor, what's going on?

The patient's wife worried.

I suspect Mr. Paskowitz has been poisoned.

Adam explained: When paper is printed, there will be harmful substances, such as heavy metals such as lead and mercury. Once excessively enriched in the human body, it will cause heavy metal poisoning. Mr. Pascowitz swallowed a lot of paper, so he was poisoned. Possibilities will be greatly enhanced.

Did you hear that!

The patient's wife felt distressed and complained: Damn it! Even if those are garbage, you can't just burn them directly. You have to eat them all. Do you want to be a trash can?

I want to put it all on the back burner and start a new book!

The patient's face turned pale, and he shouted profusely with sweat, Swallowing it is a necessary ritual!

Seeing this, Adam could only shake his head.

Soon, Carter came over with the inspection report.

It's mercury poisoning.

Inject him with anti-leukocytes.

Adam called the nurse.

This is the standard course of treatment for mercury poisoning, which absorbs the mercury in the patient's body.

ps: Thank you book friend 20180915164021291 for your reward!