Sports Medicine Master System

Chapter 351 - 292: Tricking the Brain

In the operating room.

Chen Yu didn’t stop. He trimmed the meniscus and ground down the uneven cartilage, preparing for the next step: the open surgery.

More than half an hour later, the surgery was over.

"Take a look." Chen Yu showed Liu Yudong the cartilage in the tray.

Liu Yudong fell silent as he stared at the small pile of bone fragments in the tray.

After so many days and nights of suffering, it was these little things that had brought him endless pain.

"Dr. Chen, can you give these to me?" Liu Yudong suddenly asked.

Chen Yu was taken aback for a moment. ’What, does he want to string them together as a souvenir?’

’He’s a tough one, that’s for sure.’

"Sure. I’ll find a container later and preserve them in formalin for you." Since he had made the request, Chen Yu was happy to oblige and readily agreed.

After a final glance up at the observation room, Chen Yu turned and left the operating room.

Outside the operating room, he briefly explained the situation to Liu Yudong’s wife. Since there was still time before lunch, Chen Yu went to check on Yagudin.

He had undergone minimally invasive surgery, and this long after the procedure, the wound itself wasn’t a major issue.

The main problem was the specific nature of microfracture surgery, which required absolute rest. But he was a restless person, so being bedridden for so long was a form of torture for him.

But there was no other way. If he wanted to heal, he had to rest.

Jamie’s stem cell therapy project team was already set up, but who knew when they would get results—it could be ages. They didn’t even know if they would get results at all.

After finishing his rounds, he ran into Jamie.

"He doesn’t have an appointment today, does he?" Chen Yu asked, puzzled.

Rick Ankiel was here.

Since taking him on as a patient, Chen Yu had been treating him with medication supplemented by psychotherapy.

They had a session once a week, and today was not the scheduled day.

Jamie said, "He doesn’t have an appointment, but I have a bad feeling about his condition. You should go see him."

The clinic didn’t originally have a counseling room, but because of Ankiel, Chen Yu had temporarily converted a break room into one.

Pushing the door open, he found Ankiel sitting restlessly on the sofa, constantly biting the nails on his right hand.

It was a very bad habit.

Moreover, Ankiel hadn’t had this problem before getting sick. He only started biting his nails due to the immense pressure after developing the yips.

After several therapy sessions, his nail-biting had subsided. He didn’t expect it to return now.

’His condition might have really worsened.’

The moment he saw Chen Yu enter, Ankiel shot to his feet, rushed over, and said urgently, "Chen, I feel terrible right now. I’ve been taking the medicine for so long, why am I not getting better? When are you going to cure me?"

His voice grew louder and louder, his face a mask of agitation. He kept running his hands through his hair, and his eyes were bloodshot, likely from lack of rest.

He rambled on incoherently about his condition, finally roaring at Chen Yu, "You’re a fraud! You clearly said you could cure me, but now I’ve spent all this money and I’m still not better!"

Chen Yu froze for a second.

It had been a long, long time since anyone had called him a fraud.

"Rick, calm down."

Ankiel shook his head frantically, raising a fist and shouting, "I can’t calm down! I’m finished, don’t you get it?"

Jamie was startled and quickly stepped forward to restrain Ankiel.

"What, are you going to hit me?" Chen Yu snapped, his initial shock turning to sternness.

’With emotions this volatile, he could probably be given a sedative and sent straight to a psychiatric hospital.’

Meeting Chen Yu’s severe gaze, Ankiel’s body suddenly deflated. He shook his head in a panic, "No, I didn’t mean that."

Jamie quickly helped Ankiel sit back down and shot Chen Yu an inquisitive look.

Chen Yu was a bit puzzled. During their therapy session last week, Ankiel’s condition had been quite good. They had talked a lot, discussing his hobbies. He’d even mentioned a business dinner where he met a beautiful girl but was too scared to approach her, a missed opportunity he still regretted.

He had even started fantasizing about his future life—buying a big house, marrying a girl he loved.

Chen Yu had been using psychological techniques during his treatment and had clearly felt Ankiel’s condition improving. So why this sudden relapse?

"Rick, what happened?" Chen Yu crouched down, clasped Ankiel’s right hand with both of his, squeezed gently, and looked him straight in the eye, asking in a steady tone.

Because of Ankiel, Chen Yu had actually taken the time to study psychology again, especially communication techniques for dealing with patients.

He had even adjusted his tone of voice and the richness of his timbre.

It definitely had an effect.

For example, Ankiel had visibly calmed down a little now. He said, "Chen, I’m finished. I’ve been cut from the team. They think Sean is playing better and can replace me completely. So I’m finished."

Chen Yu cursed under his breath. ’No wonder Ankiel had a sudden breakdown. He got cut.’

It made sense. He had been away from the team for a full year. In any professional league, the competition is fierce. If you leave, someone will naturally seize the opportunity to take your place.

But thinking about it calmly, the Redbirds had been more than fair. They weren’t some weak team; they were a powerhouse contending for the World Series. Yet they had given Ankiel over a year—two full seasons—to get treatment and recover.

Most importantly, Ankiel had the yips and had lost his ability to pitch. After being cut by the Redbirds, it was impossible for him to get a professional contract with any other team.

At the golden age of 22, just as he was about to begin a brilliant career, his professional life was already over.

And Chen Yu knew his family wasn’t well-off; he was counting on this job.

Just as he was about to speak, a system prompt suddenly sounded in Chen Yu’s ear.

He glanced at it subconsciously and was surprised to find he had acquired a new skill.

[Through continuous effort and practice, you have gained a preliminary grasp of exceptional psychological verbal communication techniques, acquiring the Basic Level Psychological Verbal Communication Skill.]

[During psychotherapy, your verbal communication will be more persuasive.]

The strange thing was, there was no specific bonus percentage.

’Can’t persuasiveness be quantified?’

Chen Yu didn’t have time to dwell on it. His focus remained on Ankiel.

Chen Yu wasn’t surprised to have acquired the skill.

The Suns’ counseling room had been running for so long, and sometimes when talking to others, Chen Yu would subconsciously use psychological communication techniques. This was all a form of training and experience.

Acquiring the skill after all this time was only natural.

Unfortunately, this newly acquired skill wasn’t of much use for Ankiel right now.

A career you had practiced for over a decade, something you had strived for your entire life, had come to an abrupt, screeching halt just as you were about to reap the rewards. The blow was devastating; it couldn’t be fixed with just a few words.

"Chen, what do I do now?" Ankiel clung tightly to Chen Yu’s hand. He was a big man, but at this moment, tears streamed down his face. "This past year, I’ve tried so hard. I’ve given my all to treatment and practice, trying to recover, but I just can’t do it. I feel like my brain is broken."

He suddenly flew into a frenzy and started hitting his own head.

He was a muscular man, and Jamie couldn’t hold him down.

Chen Yu immediately went out, called for a few orderlies, restrained Ankiel, and gave him a sedative shot.

As the sedative took effect, Ankiel stopped struggling.

Jamie wiped the sweat from his forehead, put his hands on his hips, and said, "Chen, this isn’t good. I think he’s having a complete mental breakdown. Should we contact a psychiatric hospital?"

’Don’t make things worse,’ Chen Yu thought. ’It would be too humiliating if a patient I’m treating ends up in a psychiatric hospital.’

"I’ll ask about the situation." Chen Yu took out his phone, found the number for his agent, Rick, and called to ask about Ankiel being cut.

On the phone, Rick’s voice was filled with helplessness. "The Redbirds don’t want to give up on him either. He’s incredibly talented and could have led the Redbirds to glory, but it’s been two seasons now. They can’t wait any longer. I’m sorry, Chen, but this is their final decision. Once this season is officially over, Rick will be cut."

Chen Yu hung up. Rick hadn’t provided any particularly useful information.

Staring at Ankiel’s vacant eyes, Chen Yu felt a heavy weight in his heart. If he didn’t do something, this man would be truly finished—not just his career, but his entire life.

At this point, Chen Yu didn’t even dare send him home, fearing an accident might happen.

But Chen Yu truly didn’t know how to treat him.

No one in the entire medical world knew how to cure the yips.

Chen Yu believed his previous treatment—a two-pronged approach of medication and therapy—should have been effective. But given Ankiel’s current state, it was clear there was no more time for a slow, gradual cure.

’The Redbirds were a bit hasty in cutting him,’ Chen Yu thought. ’They could have at least waited until the season was completely over.’

Jamie analyzed the situation with his arms crossed. "Chen, you mentioned brainwaves, myoelectric signals... we’ve run every test we can think of, even did phased comparisons, but we just can’t find the cause. Do you think his brain might actually be broken?"

Jamie meant that there might be a neurological problem, but a thought suddenly struck Chen Yu, as if by some strange impulse.

"I just had an idea." Chen Yu motioned for Jamie to step aside, then said in a low voice, "He keeps saying there’s something wrong with his brain. So what if we tell him that there *is* something wrong with his brain, and that he needs an operation to fix it completely?"

"Of course, we wouldn’t actually open up his head and operate. We’d just pretend to do a surgery. Give him a psychological signal, like with phantom limb pain, and trick his brain."

"After the ’surgery’ is done, we start over from scratch."

The more Chen Yu thought about it, the more he felt it could work. "You know, the medical community speculates that the yips are related to frequent, repetitive, and excessive training."

Take Ankiel, for instance. He’s practiced his pitching technique for so many years. And to throw a good ball, every pitcher has their own specific delivery style.

This style also puts a lot of strain on the body. Over time, the muscles develop a memory. After developing the yips, trying to train constantly to rediscover that old muscle memory would obviously keep triggering the symptoms.

"So, we’ll tell him that after this surgery, he’ll be like a reformatted computer. He’ll have to start from scratch, training a new pitching style and letting his body re-adapt. It might just work."

Even if it doesn’t work, it could at least solve Ankiel’s immediate mental crisis.

Jamie was shocked. He had no comment on the latter part, but the idea of faking a brain surgery... that method was just wildly unconventional.