"If all goes well, I should be back by the weekend at the latest. While I'm gone for these next couple of days, you need to follow my rehabilitation plan strictly. Remember to take pictures; I'll check them when I get back."
After removing the needles, Chen Yu gave Hill his instructions.
'Two or three days should be enough to take care of things over at Mayo.'
Hill nodded with a helpless smile. "Chen, you nag more than Tamia. Don't worry. I'll follow your rehabilitation plan to the letter. It's incredibly effective, and I feel fantastic right now."
Over the summer, Hill had also worked with professional trainers for his ankle injury. Naturally, he had access to the best trainers in the country.
But Chen Yu's rehabilitation plan was completely different. It was detailed to an almost freakish degree, even specifying the exact angle for a movement and how many seconds to hold it.
What's more, the amazing part was that after every session, Hill felt he had expended the perfect amount of energy, leaving him feeling just right.
Most importantly, the results were immediate. Hill could feel himself getting better with each passing day.
"Also, don't pay any attention to what the media is saying. Just focus on your recovery," Chen Yu added, recalling the recent news report.
Brown had suggested he remind Hill, and Chen Yu agreed it was necessary.
'When you're injured, you need to focus completely on recovery. You can't let outside opinions affect your mindset.'
"Got it." Hill gave him an OK sign and saw Chen Yu to the door.
Chen Yu planned to drive directly to Jacksonville.
It was only a little over two hundred kilometers, about a three-hour drive.
Taking the train would have taken five or six hours.
Inside a VIP room at the Mayo Clinic.
Keenan McCardell—who stood at only 6'1" but was built like a bull—held a pen and scrawled a line of text on a football: "To dear Little Jamie."
"Thank you, Mr. McCardell. This will be the best Christmas present ever."
The blonde nurse took the football, thrilled.
McCardell gave an absentminded smile.
The blonde nurse noticed and said softly, "Mr. McCardell, please don't worry. The doctor Dr. Wash invited for a consultation, Dr. Chen, is incredible. He uses a kind of magical Eastern therapy."
"Did you know he's the private doctor for that basketball star, Grant Hill? He got the swelling in Hill's sprained ankle to go down in just 24 hours and even diagnosed the cartilage damage. It was practically a miracle. Even our own Mr. Svenson offered him a position here at the hospital."
"Oh, and he cured my constipation."
McCardell raised an eyebrow. "Is he really that good?"
The blonde nurse nodded emphatically.
Just then, a middle-aged white man who was sitting on the other side of the bed, leaning against the windowsill and checking emails on a handheld computer, turned his head and chimed in, "You're saying this Dr. Chen is Grant Hill's personal physician?"
The blonde nurse nodded.
As she spoke, Dr. Wash entered with a resident to do her rounds.
The blonde nurse didn't dare say another word and quickly left the room.
After a brief examination, Dr. Wash smiled. "Don't worry, Keenan. Dr. Chen is on his way and will be here soon. If all goes well, you'll definitely be able to make the game against the Cleveland Browns on the 3rd of next month."
McCardell smiled bitterly. "I hope so."
Last year, they were the AFC Central champions. This year, it was like they were cursed; their record was in shambles.
They had played 12 games this regular season and only managed four wins.
Theoretically, they still had a shot at the playoffs, but these last few games were crucial, which was why he was so desperate to get back on the field.
Just then, the middle-aged white man who had been sitting quietly to the side called out to Dr. Wash.
"Dr. Wash, could I have a word?"
Dr. Wash nodded and stepped outside the room.
"What can I do for you, Mr. Boston?"
The man before her, a middle-aged professional in a crisp white shirt who looked like he belonged on Wall Street, was McCardell's agent, Kevin Boston.
He was no small name in the world of National Football League agents. The PSP Talent Agency, which he founded with his brother, was a top-tier firm.
Boston said, "I'm rather interested in the Dr. Chen you mentioned. I heard he's Grant Hill's personal physician. You said he diagnosed Hill with cartilage damage, so what was the follow-up treatment?"
Dr. Wash hesitated for a moment before nodding. "That's correct. He's the one who discovered Hill's cartilage damage, and he's also handling the follow-up treatment. From what he's told me, the recovery is going well."
"Oh?"
Boston's eyes lit up. He didn't press further, just smiled, said thank you, and turned back into the room.
'His abrupt question made Dr. Wash wonder. Does Boston represent other players with cartilage damage?'
Back in her office, Dr. Wash opened her computer and did a search for related information.
Dr. Wash had recently been considering a research project on whether Acupuncture could be applied to the treatment of articular bone injuries.
That's why she was interested in any potential cases.
And her search quickly yielded results.
Dr. Wash then learned that Kevin Boston was successful in two arenas; he didn't just have business in the NFL, but in the world of basketball as well.
The renowned "Penny," Anfernee Hardaway, was one of his clients.
And just last week, the ill-fated star had been injured again, only four games into the season.
'Cartilage removal?'
Dr. Wash's brow furrowed. According to media reports, Hardaway had reinjured his left knee at the end of last season and had surgery to remove the damaged cartilage.
Getting injured again after a full summer of rehabilitation clearly meant his recovery hadn't been successful.
His problem was the exact same thing: cartilage damage.
No wonder Boston had specifically asked about Chen Yu.
Just as she was pondering this, a nurse came to inform her that Chen Yu had arrived.
Dr. Wash quickly got to her feet.
"Chen, I'm sorry for making you come all this way." Dr. Wash gave Chen Yu a light hug.
Chen Yu, shouldering his bag, chuckled. "It's no problem at all. You're referring a patient to me, so I should be the one thanking you. Come on, let's go see him."
When they reached the room, Chen Yu saw McCardell.
Although he'd already reviewed the medical scans, seeing McCardell in person still gave Chen Yu a jolt.
'It was a miracle this guy could still be in any condition to play.'
"Chen, I have an important game in one week. Can you really get me back on the field?" McCardell asked, looking at Chen Yu nervously.
Chen Yu didn't answer right away, glancing first at Boston, who was standing nearby.
'The man had been watching him ever since he walked in.'
After a moment of thought, Chen Yu said, "Frankly, my personal recommendation, for the sake of your professional career, would be to rest for a while longer before even considering a return to the field."
'Right now, it's just swelling from a sprained knee, but his underlying condition is poor. Rushing back to the field like this carries a huge risk of re-injury.'
"No," McCardell said, shaking his head with determination. "Doctor, you don't understand. The team needs me. We still have a shot at the Super Bowl, so I have to get back on the field and fight alongside my teammates."
"To *fight*. You understand?"
McCardell raised his right hand, balled it into a fist, and pounded his chest as if beating the drum for a war chant.
Chen Yu frowned. 'Sorry, but I really don't get it,' he thought.