Chapter 141: Crisis in the Departments

Zhou Can even suspected that this guy was a clean freak.

For him, handling any patient was the same. Trainees worked with the purpose of learning, and every case, regardless of its nature, was an opportunity to gain experience.

The key was to manage all kinds of emergencies and avoid any mishaps.

Zhou Can quickly headed for the room of Bed 31.

The Neurosurgery Department is typically divided into three to five wards.

The most common cases involve intracranial tumors, traumatic brain injuries, functional neurosurgery conditions, and cerebrovascular diseases.

In addition, the Intensive Care Unit is essentially an independent comprehensive ward.

Those whose lives hung by a thread had to be admitted to the ICU.

It’s a testament to Tuyu Hospital’s strength that they can operate multiple ICUs. The Emergency Department has one, Neurosurgery has three, and departments like Cardiothoracic Surgery, Neurology, and Thoracic Medicine have their own ICUs as well.

I’m not too familiar with Obstetrics, but given its significance in Tuyu, there should be at least two ICUs.

Preterm infants, critically ill expectant mothers, and parturients need these facilities to save their lives at crucial moments.

Many families are terrified at the mention of the ICU, since it’s extremely costly. A fee of ten to twenty thousand a day can be disastrous for an ordinary household.

Yet in critical moments, the ICU truly has the power to snatch a life back from the clutches of death.

It can rescue a patient from the brink.

Then after several days, weeks, or even a couple of months, the patient safely passes the danger period, is transferred to a common ward, and slowly recovers.

Since major hospitals in the country started establishing ICUs, the mortality rate has significantly decreased.

Many fortunate patients have survived and eventually recovered.

Yet there are also tragic cases of total loss.

When Zhou Can arrived at Bed 31, the patient—a relatively young man, probably no older than forty—lay there. His wife, looking haggard, kept vigil beside him while clutching a washbasin.

At that moment, the patient was still vomiting.

“Is it coming out heavily?”

Zhou Can asked with concern.

A forty-year-old man was the pillar of his family, responsible for both the elderly and the young.

It was hard to imagine what fate would befall his family if he were to collapse.

Some experts say that health is prized as 1, while careers can be counted in zeros.

Without health, even a fortune of countless zeros means nothing.

“My husband complained of a headache not long ago, and soon after he started vomiting.” The patient’s wife visibly relaxed a bit upon seeing the doctor.

In the eyes of patients and their families, doctors were the nemesis of disease—a lifeline.

Zhou Can took the patient’s test results and medical records for a closer look.

“Cerebral arteriosclerosis accompanied by an intracranial aneurysm!”

Seeing the results, Zhou Can couldn’t help but be startled.

Since the patient had been admitted, it was clear a scheduled surgery was in the works.

For other conditions, vomiting might not be a big deal.

But experiencing vomiting along with an intracranial aneurysm was a very ominous sign.

Even a trainee like Zhou Can, with no prior similar experience, understood the danger lurking within.

Could Dr. Cheng, who was in charge of the ward, not realize that Bed 31 was an intracranial aneurysm case?

He glanced at the patient’s admission date—admitted just yesterday. Biquge.

“Did the nurse mention that he should fast and avoid fluids?”

Zhou Can asked, hoping to find out if the department had already scheduled the surgery.

“No,”

the patient’s wife shook her head.

It seemed the doctors hadn’t yet formulated a surgical plan.

“Where does it hurt in your head?”

Zhou Can asked the patient directly.

“Right here, and here—now, a sharp, intermittent pain…ugh!”

Before he could finish, the patient vomited again.

The basin contained nothing but sour bile, with no traces of food.

“Did he not eat anything after admission?”

Zhou Can inquired.

If he had eaten in the morning, what he expelled wouldn’t just be acid and bile.

“He can’t eat. I tried giving him some bread—he took a tiny bite before shaking his head. As for the boxed meal, that’s out of the question. Since yesterday afternoon, he’s had only a small sip of water. Doctor, when will you schedule my husband’s surgery?”

Worry filled the patient’s wife as she looked at her husband.

“According to his test results, it appears an intracranial aneurysm is pressing on a nerve, causing his loss of appetite, nausea, and headache. The severe vomiting now could signal that his condition is worsening. I’ll report this to a senior doctor immediately. From now on, he shouldn’t eat, and preferably, he shouldn’t drink either. If the aneurysm ruptures and bleeds, emergency surgery will likely be required,”

Zhou Can explained, then carefully examined the patient’s symptoms.

The main issues were headache and vomiting.

Additionally, the patient showed marked neck stiffness whenever he vomited.

All signs pointed toward a high possibility of a ruptured intracranial aneurysm.

This couldn’t be delayed—if things went wrong, a life would be lost.

Zhou Can hurried to Bed 22 to report to Dr. Cheng.

Dr. Cheng was his superior, and Zhou Can had no choice but to report to him.

The hospital implements a three-tier responsibility system.

The department head is responsible for the attending, the attending for the resident, and the resident for the trainee or intern.

Each level oversees the one below.

If something went wrong and the subordinate reported it in time, the fault ultimately fell on the superior.

When he arrived at Bed 22, even from a distance he saw the patient convulsing violently, eyes rolling back and frothing at the mouth—a truly horrifying sight.

Moreover, the patient’s head was bandaged, indicating that surgery had already been performed.

It was likely a craniotomy.

However, Zhou Can, having just arrived, couldn’t be sure.

No wonder Dr. Cheng sent Zhou Can to check on the patient in Bed 31.

Compared to the vomiting at Bed 31, the situation at Bed 22 was far more urgent and required his personal attention.

Jiang Xiaohua had initially thought that following Dr. Cheng meant handling simple, clean tasks.

Now, she had no choice but to frown as she cleaned the patient’s froth from his mouth.

She also had to wipe away the mucus trickling from his nose.

“Are these signs of an epileptic episode? It looks pretty severe,”

Zhou Can asked.

“The patient started having severe seizures shortly after the surgery,” Jiang Xiaohua explained.

Dr. Cheng completely ignored Zhou Can’s question.

While performing various tests on the patient and formulating a comprehensive diagnosis, he attempted to decide on a treatment plan.

However, he couldn’t seem to come up with a plan, clearly at a loss.

At that moment, the convulsing patient suddenly slipped into unconsciousness.

Dr. Cheng’s face changed dramatically, panic evident in his eyes. After all, he was still only a resident.

Generally, a resident qualified to handle a bed on his own would have at least two years of experience.

That experience isn’t counted from the first day of training but from the day they obtain their practicing physician license and register with the hospital.

For an attending, residents need five years of hospital work experience, starting from that moment.

So, strictly speaking, once they have their licenses, they are officially residents.

“Don’t panic. The patient is likely unconscious because of an epileptic seizure and should wake up soon. But we need to consult either Director Wen or Director Wu,”

Dr. Cheng said, trying to sound calm, though his hands were shaking as he reached for his phone.

How could he not be panicked when a patient was unconscious?

Making a phone call in front of the family was awkward enough, especially since this patient had just developed postoperative seizures. Although the family hadn’t said much yet, their faces had grown ominously dark.

One wrong word could easily spark a medical dispute.

“You two stay here while I report this to our superiors.”

After saying that, Dr. Cheng walked off into the distance.

Zhou Can followed him.

“Dr. Cheng, the patient in Bed 31 is vomiting severely, has neck stiffness and excruciating head pain. I suspect he’s experiencing a ruptured intracranial aneurysm.”

Zhou Can had no choice—he had to report the situation.

Even though he knew Dr. Cheng was already overwhelmed, he forced himself to explain everything clearly.

It was his very first day on duty in the Neurosurgery Department and he was already facing so many emergencies.

Zhou Can truly felt the immense pressure of working in Neurosurgery.

Many seniors warned that while doctors in the Emergency Department were cursed by fate, those in Neurosurgery were both unlucky and burdened with extra responsibilities.

No department was easy to manage.

Whenever doctors encountered complex cases, the pressure would instantly mount.

“Did you perform an angiography? The patient only vomited a little—why are you getting so worked up? Your tone is completely irresponsible,”

Dr. Cheng clearly wasn’t in a good mood.

His temper had noticeably worsened.

After a brief scolding of Zhou Can, he didn’t even mention the treatment plan, leaving Zhou Can standing there as he dialed his phone and walked toward a distant office.

“Hello, Director Wen!”

The call connected, and Dr. Cheng immediately shifted his demeanor.

His shoulders slumped almost comically.

“I need to report something. Last night, after a patient underwent vascular malformation surgery, he suddenly developed seizures in the ward and lost consciousness before I could intervene. What should we do?”

Dr. Cheng reported cautiously.

Zhou Can listened intently from where he stood.

He didn’t catch what Director Wen said on the other end.

“Okay, okay!”

Dr. Cheng seemed to have received a divine command, his mood visibly calming as he repeatedly agreed.

Zhou Can had assumed Dr. Cheng would also report the situation at Bed 31, but perhaps out of fear of being reprimanded or other concerns, not a word was mentioned about it.

After hanging up, Dr. Cheng turned and saw Zhou Can still standing there.

He barked, “Hey, get the patient from Bed 22 in for an EEG immediately. And tell the family that postoperative seizures are common. Start medication, and if that fails, we’ll consider a second surgery.”

Hearing this made Zhou Can’s head spin.

The patient had just undergone surgery and now faced complications, which the family would find hard to accept.

Sending a trainee like him to explain was like setting a cannon fodder to take the beating.

Dr. Cheng was being incredibly devious.

“Dr. Cheng, my memory isn’t great and I’m not much of a talker—I’m afraid I might mess up the explanation. Why don’t you handle it yourself?”

Zhou Can wasn’t a fool. He refused to take on that kind of task.

Even if he had to clean up after patients, he’d prefer that over facing the family’s wrath. He’d rather get a few scoldings from Dr. Cheng than risk being bashed by the family.

“You idiot, you can’t even handle this little task,”

Dr. Cheng snapped at him, forcing him to handle the explanation himself.

In many hospital departments, there were superiors just as devious as Dr. Cheng.

It wasn’t that they were irresponsible—it was that their extensive experience meant they offloaded the most blame-inducing work onto their junior colleagues.

Then, once the juniors got bashed, they’d step in to soothe things over.

Zhou Can had been treated the same way by Dr. Fang during his internship.

Having learned his lesson twice, he refused to be put in such a situation again.

Before long, he heard an argument erupt between Dr. Cheng and the family from Bed 22.

Jiang Xiaohua quickly distanced herself in fear.

Zhou Can certainly wasn’t going to be the peacemaker there.

If Dr. Cheng hadn’t taken advantage of him, maybe he would have stepped in to help.

But now, he had no good impression of Dr. Cheng at all.

His main worry was the patient in Bed 31—a man who was the pillar of his family. If his intracranial aneurysm were to rupture, why wait until irreversible damage occurred before operating?

That would be pointless.

A whole family could be shattered.

Even if the patient’s life was saved, if he ended up with brain damage or paralysis, he wouldn’t just lose his ability to work—he’d be a lifelong burden on his family.

That would be an enormous weight for any family to bear.

Dr. Cheng’s argument soon fell apart, overpowered by the patient’s family.

They stormed out, fuming.

“What are you two waiting for? Hurry up and get the patient into an EEG!”

Their anger was vented on Zhou Can and Jiang Xiaohua.

Any check required an official request from the responsible doctor and payment from the family—this was the procedure.

That was the process.

In emergencies when the family couldn’t arrive in time or pay immediately, arrangements could be made for deferred payment.

But for a specialized department, getting deferred payment was nearly impossible.

Many patients, regardless of their ability to pay, would end up owing medical fees after treatment. And if the patient wasn’t cured or passed away, it would be even more impossible to collect.

Ultimately, the department’s doctors would bear part of the financial loss.

No one in the department was eager to handle such thankless tasks.

After Dr. Cheng left, Zhou Can and Jiang Xiaohua exchanged helpless glances.

“Normally, arranging a check is the family’s duty. We can help, but without an official request, how do we proceed?”

The diagnostic department wouldn’t break the rules just because the two of them were doctors.

“Maybe I should go get the request from Dr. Cheng?”

This time, Jiang Xiaohua wasn’t trying to be sly.

She proactively went to fetch the diagnostic request form from Dr. Cheng.

“Did he scold you?”

Zhou Can asked in a low voice.

“I’m not worried about his scolding—I’m just afraid I’ll have to clean up after vomit and other messes,”

Jiang Xiaohua replied, as if unfazed despite likely having been reprimanded.

“Heh, I have to admire you,”

Zhou Can chuckled.

“I’ll go talk to the family and ask them to pay the fee first.”

Zhou Can was known for being considerate.

When dealing with devious people, he was even more cunning. But when it came to honest folks, he would never let them suffer or be taken advantage of.

“I should handle it! You’ve helped me enough already,”

Jiang Xiaohua bared her teeth playfully as she took the diagnostic request form and approached the three surly family members.

Zhou Can smirked quietly—Jiang Xiaohua was not unappreciative of goodwill.

He followed her along.

He couldn’t very well leave her to face them alone!

If the family turned physical, Zhou Can was no pushover—he wouldn’t be at a disadvantage.

“This is a diagnostic request for an EEG ordered by a senior doctor. Please proceed to pay the fee,”

Jiang Xiaohua stated, looking at the prim and proper family members who, despite their timid appearances, showed no signs of backing down.

Appearances can be deceiving.

Each person has their own strengths and weaknesses.

“What? Your hospital actually dares to ask us to pay more? You’ve already ruined my brother; not seeking compensation is being generous. Don’t think you can push us around.”

“If anything happens to my husband, I’ll ensure your hospital faces a lawsuit.”

“This is a case of medical malpractice!”

“Record this, record it—everything will be used as evidence in court.”

The three family members, firing off threats like machine guns, grew increasingly aggressive.

Standing at 1.85 meters tall, Zhou Can stepped forward. His natural aura, reminiscent of a martial artist, diminished the intimidating presence of the family members.

“You all signed the surgical consent form. Besides, without the surgery, the patient might not have survived. He’s only experiencing minor postoperative complications—are you really going to be so ungrateful? If this is the treatment you give doctors, who will dare to operate in the future?”

When it came to negotiation, Zhou Can was far more skilled than Dr. Cheng.

After all, he was a second-generation rich kid.

Having been influenced by his parents since childhood, he had learned quite a few tricks.

The expressions on the three family members slowly showed signs of softening.

Zhou Can pressed his advantage, “Early diagnosis and prompt treatment of the seizures are crucial. Delaying the treatment only jeopardizes the patient’s recovery. The fee for the test isn’t much. If delaying treatment causes greater losses, the cost would be much higher.”

After Zhou Can’s lecture, the three family members exchanged glances and quietly huddled to discuss.

Before long, they reached a compromise.

“I’ll go pay the fee right away. Please expedite my husband’s test. Your hospital always has a long queue for diagnostics.”

“Alright, we’ll get the patient moved immediately. Don’t worry—we’ll use the green channel to fast-track his examination.”

Zhou Can successfully convinced the family and breathed a sigh of relief.

The family’s earlier threatening posture could have easily escalated into violence.

Jiang Xiaohua winked at him and gave a thumbs-up.

Honestly, the ferocity the family exhibited earlier had really shaken Jiang Xiaohua’s resolve.

She was genuinely scared of getting beaten up.

The two then took the patient out to the EEG room, where many other patients were already waiting.

Jiang Xiaohua’s method was quite efficient.

Holding the diagnostic form, she ran it over to the counter where the clerk was entering information.

“This patient is unconscious. Please arrange an urgent EEG immediately,”

she explained.

There were times when a doctor’s status came in handy.

This was as blatant as cutting in line, but everyone was willing to go along with it.

“All set!”

He ran back and told Zhou Can.

“You’re really something—I just learned another trick from you,”

Zhou Can’s remark brought a smug smile to his face.

While waiting for the test, Zhou Can faintly heard several people mention the name “Director Wu.”

Looking over, his gaze fell on none other than Wu Baihe, the Peak Scalpel of the Surgical Department.