Chapter 655 - 306: Supply Cut-off

The outpatient lobby of the University of Pittsburgh Medical Center.

9:00 AM.

The pharmacy window, which should have been orderly, was now swarmed with people.

The line stretched all the way to the lobby’s revolving doors. Everyone clutched a freshly written prescription from their doctor, their faces etched with anxiety.

Linda Moore stood before Window 3.

She was a thirty-five-year-old single mother who worked as a cashier at a supermarket.

At that moment, her hair was a mess, and one of the buttons on her blouse was misaligned.

"Please, check again."

Linda’s voice trembled, laced with desperation.

"There must be a mistake in the system. This is for NovoLog. How can a hospital as big as yours be out of stock?"

The pharmacist behind the counter was named Tom, a young man who had graduated just two years ago.

He stared at the flashing yellow warning box on his computer screen, tiny beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

He looked up, his gaze avoiding Linda’s pleading eyes, and stiffly tapped the keyboard twice.

"I’m sorry, ma’am," Tom said, lowering his voice. "We do have five pens of NovoLog left in the storeroom."

"But the system shows our hospital’s insulin reserves have fallen below the red alert level. In this situation, standard prescriptions are no longer valid. The system has automatically locked my dispensing privileges. My entire interface is grayed out."

"Why?" Linda shrieked, leaning forward so far she nearly vaulted over the counter. "My son is only seven years old! He has Type 1 diabetes! If he doesn’t get his shot today, he’ll fall into a coma! He’ll die at home!"

Tom’s face flushed red with anxiety. He snatched the internal phone on the counter and yelled rapidly into the receiver:

"Get Manager Garrett over here! Now! Window 3 needs high-level inventory authorization. There’s a family in urgent need of insulin, but the system is rejecting my confirmation command!"

Two minutes later, a middle-aged man in a dark blue suit hurried down the internal pharmacy corridor and arrived behind the counter.

He was the pharmacy’s inventory manager, Garrett.

Garrett glanced at the inventory warning on the screen, his expression turning grim.

He took out his authorization card and swiped it through the reader. A dialog box popped up on the screen: [This action requires emergency approval from the State Department of Health. Current stock is reserved for ICU use only].

"Tom, the authorization is useless," Garrett said, wiping sweat from his face as he looked out at the massive crowd waiting for prescriptions. "The system is locked down because the supply line is broken."

"The delivery trucks from Pfizer and Eli Lilly haven’t shown up at our loading dock once this week. It’s not just our hospital. The entire Pittsburgh regional health system hasn’t received a single shipment of insulin since the day before yesterday."

Garrett pointed to the logistics monitoring list on the computer for Tom to see.

"The excuses these pharmaceutical companies are giving are all about ’logistical technology adjustments.’ They’ve dropped our supply priority to the lowest level. The stock we have now is to keep dying people alive. I can’t give it to you."

Linda froze.

She didn’t understand the jargon Garrett was using about supply chains and authorization levels.

All she understood was the evasive look in Garrett’s eyes and the word "denied" displayed on the machine.

"You’re murderers," Linda’s tears began to fall. "You’re locking it up on purpose."

Garrett didn’t dare respond. He looked down at his shoes, his fingers anxiously rubbing the plastic authorization card.

"Manager Garrett, we have to report this up the chain," Tom said, looking up at him. "If this continues, the lobby will be out of control by this afternoon."

"I already did," Garrett replied. "The state’s response was a single sentence: ’Strictly adhere to the inventory risk management protocol.’"

"You can’t do this!"

Linda suddenly reached through the window, trying to grab Tom’s white coat.

"You’re a hospital! You’re supposed to save people! Give me the medicine! Please, I’m begging you, give me the medicine! I have money, I have a Mutual Aid Alliance Red Card, I have insurance!"

Security guards rushed over and restrained Linda.

Linda collapsed to the floor, letting out a heart-wrenching sob.

Her cry was like a signal.

The crowd in line behind her began to stir.

"What about my heart medication?"

"What about my chemo drugs?"

"Dammit! What the hell is going on? Why is the pharmacy empty?"

Panic was spreading.

People started pushing, shouting.

In an instant, the hospital lobby became a powder keg about to explode.

...

「Pittsburgh City Hall, Mayor’s Office.」

Leo Wallace sat behind his desk, his expression grim.

Five letters lay on his desk.

Five official legal notices from the top pharmaceutical giants and medical companies in All of America.

Pfizer.

Johnson.

Merck.

AstraZeneca.

Fresenius Medical Care.

Leo picked up one of the letters and opened it.

"To the esteemed Pittsburgh City Hall and Department of Health:"

"Our logistics centers in the Western Pennsylvania region are currently undergoing comprehensive digital upgrades and warehouse restructuring. To ensure the safety and compliance of pharmaceutical transport during this period, our company regrets to inform you that we will be suspending all shipments of pharmaceuticals and medical devices to Pittsburgh and its surrounding counties."

"This suspension is due to a technical adjustment classified as force majeure."

"A date for the resumption of supplies has not yet been determined."

"We sincerely apologize for any inconvenience this may cause."

Leo tossed the letter on the desk and picked up the second one.

The contents were all practically identical, but the excuses were varied.

"System maintenance."

"Inventory audit."

"Regional compliance self-assessment."

"Transportation disruptions due to extreme weather."