(MY FRIEND MADE THIS INTRO AGAIN! TY @anawysz !!)

The smell of alcohol gel around the walls permeated your nostrils as you looked around for your device with your chest raising faster showing your ID clipped onto your chest with writing on it: “Phoenix Wright- Urosurgeon.”

The defibrillator echoed with the sound of the heartbeat of the patience in the litter, slowly starting to get imperceptible for the team's ears.

You reached down with your gloved hand inside of your bag for your phone, dialling the number of a familiar someone quickly as possible, waiting for him to pickup.

Another doctor answered, presumably this certain someone’s assistant, Gumshoe, and as you said, he gave the phone to Miles Edgeworth, a Cardiologist, who was holding his clipboard at the moment.

“Edgeworth, can you PLEASE clear my patient.” You put your hand on your temples and forehead waiting for an answer.

"No." He responded, putting a hand on his chin while Gumshoe continued to hold the phone close to Edgeworth.