"After that, you're coming to the hospital with me for fresh scans."
Claire needed to compare his current state with the old records. The scans were the only way to know if his legs were salvageable.
"I threw the old X-rays away," Ewan muttered, thoroughly devoid of hope and desperate for her to leave.
Claire fixed him with an icy glare. "You want to recover, yet you refuse to cooperate. With zero willpower, how did you ever survive a military academy?"
"Did your family buy your way in?"
That was the final straw.
Ewan gripped the armrests, practically shaking with the urge to hit something.
It was a good thing Claire was a girl. If a guy had said that to him, Ewan would have already thrown a punch.
"How I got in is none of your damn business!"
Buy his way in? Never.
He had crushed every physical exam and aced his academics with ease.
Terrified of exactly that accusation, Ewan had spent his entire senior year studying like a madman.
"You're right, it's not my business. So, do you have the scans or not?"
Claire's absolute calm only made Ewan feel like he was throwing a pointless tantrum.
Completely outmaneuvered, he grudgingly wheeled himself over to retrieve the medical files.
Claire then pushed his wheelchair out the door, heading straight to the hospital for new imaging.
The attending orthopedic doctor was stunned to hear that Ewan wanted to reevaluate his treatment options.
"I consulted on this case previously. The damage is nearly irreversible."
"He opted for conservative treatment instead of amputation, which left us highly concerned about his long-term prognosis."
The doctor frowned heavily. "The truth is, Ewan's mobility isn't entirely a lost cause. But since he refused prosthetics, our hands were tied."
"Fitted prosthetics remain his best shot at standing again, but..."
The patient was notoriously stubborn. No one could get through to him.
Given the formidable influence of the Harding family, the medical staff had been hesitant to push the issue.
The doctor had visited Ewan twice at home, and the young man's temper had grown more volatile each time.
During the second visit, Ewan had kicked him out before he could even look at the legs.
The doctor felt helpless. With a cooperative patient, there was always room to try new approaches.
But with Ewan fighting them at every turn, devising a new treatment plan was a massive waste of energy.
"Doctor, what if we tried this route..." Claire began, smoothly outlining her proposed regimen.
The doctor distened intently, his eyes widening in surprise as he looked at Claire, Who exactly is Gontent belongs to swnovet net
Sontent belongs to Sor?"
"Your plan isn't impossible. When I operated on him, it was an
emergency trauma
so the
initial repart was far from deal."
"But we had absolutely no other choice at the time..." The doctor was a recognized
authority in orthopedics.
Getting Ewan through the surgery alive was a victory in itself.
Ewan had simply been dealt a terrible hand.
When the Hardings rushed him to the hospital, their first choice for a surgeon had been Dr. Tandy.
But Tandy had been out of town, forcing them to rely on the on-call staff.
The on-call surgeon was brilliant, but his surgical style was worlds apart from Tandy's precision.
Hearing this, Claire bypassed the orthopedic ward entirely and wheeled Ewan straight to Tandy's office.
Tandy had been in the operating room all morning, finally catching a break before his afternoon surgeries.
When Claire walked in, he was mechanically shoveling down a boxed lunch while reviewing patient charts.
Barely looking up from the paperwork, he asked instinctively, "Claire, do you need me for something?"
Claire nodded. "Dr. Tandy, I have a file I need you to evaluate."
Tandy didn't object, swiftly scanning through the medical records.
He finally looked up at Claire.
"Amputation is still the safest b
Keeping those legs is a ticke
bomb for severe complication