Chapter 512: Change-based Handcrafted 3D Printing Model

A cry of alarm sounded, and Ramos’s face instantly turned as pale as paper.

He twisted his head forcefully, bumping his chin into his shoulder pit to look at the swelling on his upper right arm. Unfortunately, the "light source" was directly behind him, at the wrong angle, making it difficult to see clearly. Ramos could only bend over further and further, nearly falling to the ground in his haste.

Garrett rushed over to support him. Just two steps behind him, a pair of mage hands flew up, one on each side, steadily righting the body of the transformation mage.

Garrett: "..."

His way of thinking, compared to that of a conventional mage, was quite different. For instance, at this moment, he wouldn’t think to use Mage Hand... whereas conventional mages used Mage Hand more skillfully than their own hands, perhaps to the point of de-evolution.

And, alas, this was the sorrow of an X-ray that couldn’t be developed. In his previous life, a doctor would decisively pick up an X-ray and show it to the patient: Look, this is the spot that’s troubling...

But now, detection magic relied on the mage’s mental vision. It couldn’t be duplicated, recorded, or explained to patients, nor could it be taught to students how to read images.

—To achieve this, the scenes in the mental vision must be manifested in reality. And this was something Garrett could not do—by the way, how was Ms. Almeida’s research progress? When could they expect results?

Garrett’s mind was buzzing with various thoughts. He helped Ramos sit down on the side, pointing at his right arm and explaining to the onlookers:

"Yes, I believe there is indeed a problem with this tumor. You see, beside the humerus there’s a homogeneous fat-density shadow, and you can see tree-like bony protrusions extending into the fat-density shadow. So, I diagnose it as a parosteal lipoma."

Turning back around, he faced three bewildered faces. Ramos could not see the X-ray image of his own upper right arm, and Mrs. Alvar was just a controller of confusion, there for the spectacle. Jason, however, pointed at the swollen arm, full of questions:

"How can you tell this is fat?"

"Why do you say these are bony protrusions, not vessels or something else?"

"Why say the tumor is the problem when it’s so far from the fingers?"

Garrett: "..."

How to recognize it as fat, why it’s a bony protrusion, radiology is a specialized field.

Why it’s the tumor’s problem needs to be explained from physiological, neurological, anatomical perspectives.

As for why it’s a parosteal lipoma and not a giant cell tumor, not an enchondroma, not a sarcoma...

Garrett had a lot of differential diagnoses he could discuss. For instance, if it were a liposarcoma, it should show uneven fat density, visible calcification, and sometimes adjacent bone destruction;

If it were an osteochondroma, it would be regularly shaped, with no fat-density soft tissue mass;

If it were a hemangioma, calcification should be coarse to fine, accompanied by bone destruction, periosteal reaction, and soft tissue mass...

But looking at the people present, they probably wouldn’t understand. And radiology can only speculate; to really determine the type of tumor, a preoperative needle biopsy is recommended, to be sent for pathology, or an intraoperative frozen section.

However, this world had no pathology to offer. Garrett could only suggest a one-size-fits-all approach—

"Suggest cutting it off."

"What? Cut it off?"

Ramos’s face turned even paler. To Garrett, it seemed like the blood in his facial vessels was first folded in half, then folded again, and then, all the blood was replaced with Ringer’s solution. He trembled as he asked:

"Do I need to cut off the whole arm?"

"Will the bone be cut off?"

"Will the blood vessels be cut too?"

This wasn’t actually going to happen. Garrett closed his eyes and focused, raising an Ethereal Phantom in his hand, sketching out the internal situation of the arm. He carefully explained:

"What needs to be cut off is just this tumor..."

"An Alleviate Pain spell will be used for pain relief, you won’t feel pain..."

"Blood vessels, nerves, before we start cutting, they will be moved aside to protect them..."

"This tumor has grown large and invaded the bone. If not removed, your arm will gradually become numb. If unlucky, it might develop into something worse..."

Question after question was asked, generating more and more queries.

Garrett was asked to the point of dry mouth and sweaty back. Just as he started to consider using a "Charm Human" or "Calm" spell to dispel the patient

’s fears, Mrs. Alvar suddenly looked stern:

"Are you going to treat it or not? Give a definite answer! Now, immediately!"

The declaration from a Level 13 Archmage had an excellent effect. Although she only spoke that much, both healers and the patient present could read the ultimatum on her face:

This is the Tower of Song! Not your alchemy workshop! Decide if you want treatment, if not, get out!

"Don’t waste my time here!"

"I’ll treat it! I’ll do it now!" Ramos jumped up like a shot rabbit. He lovingly looked at his right arm, made up his mind, and raised his arm to Garrett:

"Let’s do it!—Where shall we start the incision?"

Garrett remained silent. His patience and detailed explanations didn’t match up to the archmage’s rebuke. Okay, in this world, patients have no dignity... no, lower-ranked professionals have no dignity before higher-ranked ones...

And Mrs. Alvar even took over his job. She naturally commanded: "Right here is fine. I’ll call the students to watch too; they’re currently studying brain waves.—Is that okay with you, Master Nordmark?"

...No, it wasn’t. The room was surrounded by wallpaper, carpeted on the floor, lacking sterile conditions; the privacy of the patient needed to be protected during surgery, spectators not welcome; observers not adhering to sterile operation norms could cause significant trouble...

These thoughts made a round on Garrett’s tongue but were ultimately swallowed. Patients had no dignity before the archmage, and he didn’t have much room to bargain either. He quickly thought it over and smiled:

"This room isn’t quite suitable, madam. Could we find a larger one that can accommodate the ’Sanctuary Hut’?"

Fortunately, Garrett had enough face with Mrs. Alvar to borrow a conference room, pushing all the sofas, round tables, and potted plants aside. The cleared area was sufficient to set up his operation room.

But of course, the surgery couldn’t start immediately; further checks were needed:

"I’ll draw the internal image of the arm I see with ’Ethereal Phantom’," Garrett consulted with the medical mage Jason Tarn:

"Can you follow the phantom to make a physical model? It would be best if it could last a while, support for several hours at least, ’Mage Tricks’ are too crude and can only last an hour..."

"I’ll do it!" Ramos immediately volunteered. As a transformation mage, making something based on a phantom was his specialty:

"Soft or hard? What material? Do you need it transparent? Or semi-transparent?"

"…Best if it’s semi-transparent, the colors the same as what I mark with the phantom. By the way, you’d better not move your right arm during the process, to facilitate my examination."

"This…" Ramos thought for a moment, slapped his space bag, and a rope flew out, tying his right upper arm to his torso:

"I’ll try my best!"

Garrett gripped his oak staff, closed his eyes, and regulated his breathing. Black and white serpents rose into the air.

"First the bones… bones are white, opaque…"

Garrett explained bit by bit. Ramos concentrated, his fingers constantly flicking, materials known and unknown to Garrett rose into the air. Soon, the 3D printed model vividly appeared before everyone:

The long bone’s shaft on the outside was encumbered with many growths, resembling a coral;

Outside the bones, wrapped a light yellow lipoma. It wasn’t the simple mass they had imagined, but a lobulated soft tissue mass growing on each proliferated bone spur;

Blood vessels, which should have flowed straight, were forcibly arched out by the tumor;

The light yellow lipoma aggressively squeezed in the middle of the arm, light red muscles, vivid red and deep red vessels, and silver-white nerves, all displaced by it. At the top of the tumor, nerves outlined in silver-white were clearly swollen...

Garrett breathed a sigh of relief. This kind of model, which could be held in hand, disassembled, spun around, and even cut into with a knife, was only available for the most complex surgeries and most critical studies in his previous life.

Other doctors, having a 3D reconstruction image on a computer to look at, was already quite fortunate.

—Expensive, right?

As for the emergency department, haha. The poor and busy emergency department, with a little budget, all went to those who dodged bills, where was the money for this? And their chief doctor had said it well:

"By the time you scan, rebuild, print, and study, the patient is dead, okay? Patients who can wait, have already been transferred..."

Fortunately, someone helped handcraft it now. The twice-enlarged 3D model, bones, muscles, vessels, nerves, where deformations were, what to watch out for, clearly visible. Checking it

before making an incision, confident, no fear of sudden surprises.

…Otherwise, why not hire a few transformation mages to handcraft 3D models for apprentices to practice surgery?

Hard to say for the more complex ones, but skilled surgeons for hemorrhoid surgery, could train a few...

Garrett couldn’t help but brainstorm. Well, starting with Mr. Ramos here, wondering if waiving his medical fee in exchange for half a month’s work at the hospital, could this condition be negotiated?

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