[ WP ] You are a doctor in a world where everyone has superpowers . One day a patient comes along that you have no idea how to treat .

`` Dr. Coleman, ID 4562, you are needed in room 405.'' 
 This happens every day, many times. Once I finish working on one patient, somebody had already predicted the exact time and scheduled me another appointment directly afterwards. The people in the Predicted Scheduling department always knew when another appointment would become available, but they did n't look deep enough to find out that this person would have no cure. The people in that department were all mules, a side effect of their power. They were very stubborn and said that if an appointment was changed it would change the balance of everything. My name is Dr. Fergus Coleman, and my power is to be able to prescribe medicine perfectly for every ailment. My last patient developed a power to have blood that turns into mercury, which is n't too hard to prescribe for. She has to take 4 100 mg Neobenzalcitracite Cadmilocidum tablets everyday, with the recommended brand being Cadmilo. Anyways, the patient that came after her was an enigma. He was just 15 years old, and his name was Bradley Elliott. He had a very rare power: he had a large tumor that, once it was excised, would regrow in another place on his body. He was another one of the unfortunate ones. His parents, very nervous, were both with him. They explained to me that he had seen surgeons with the ability to cut with atomic precision, and that it had n't helped. So, they came to see me, one of the best prescribers in the world. I looked at Bradley. His skin sagged in a few places where tumors were removed, and he had a large bulb on his hand. The tumors were n't malignant, but they were bad for his body. My mind, for the first time ever, drew a blank. There was no way with medicine to treat this kid. Some of the unlucky ones can get Depower ( a brand that created medicine to suppress powers, with the medical name being disindynamosidenflalinol ), but that would n't work here. He'd have to live his life with this awful `` power'', if one could call it that. I asked him to describe what else he can do. He said, `` Well, at the moment, I can grow tumors at will, in any place I want.'' No luck. I responded, `` Well Bradley, it seems that at the moment, there is n't anything I can do. You'll have to come back for another appointment.'' As soon as I said that, his face fell. His parents started sobbing, and they had to be led out of the Lawrence J. Abraham Memorial Hospital. 
 
 `` Dr. Coleman, ID 4562, you are needed in room 386.'' 
 The Elliott family was back. I had thought of something their son could do. He could work with a transmuter and a surgeon, growing tumors, having them expertly cut, and having the result transformed into food for third world countries. His face brightened up when I told him the news. The only way to transmute meat is to use living cells. This could be a lucrative business, and I gave him the names of some colleagues that would love to do this with him. His life was set up now, and a psychoanalyzer was n't even needed to find what would be done. Finally, a working cure for a puzzling patient.
