Chapter 275: A Miracle in the Operating Room

Director Tian, who had been about to step in and stop Zhou Can from handling the procedure, suddenly felt as if an invisible hand wrapped around her throat. The words on the tip of her tongue were swallowed down.

“This resident is incredible!”

Unable to hold back, she blurted out a phrase in her local dialect after stifling her original warning to Zhou Can.

It was Zhou Can’s stunning performance that left her speechless.

None of the doctors from Xinxiang Maternity and Child Hospital dared take action, and even after both Tuyu Hospital’s attending physicians tried and failed, the difficulty of this rescue was obvious.

This was truly a hell-level rescue operation.

Yet after Zhou Can started working, it took him only eleven seconds to turn the whole situation around, pulling the sick child back from the brink of death.

Such miraculous skill convinced Director Tian of the saying, ‘it’s not the folds, it’s the filling that matters.’

So a resident could actually outperform attending physicians.

It was mind-blowing, but witnessing it firsthand left her no choice but to accept it.

After the shock wore off, Director Tian was overwhelmed with joy.

Although the child’s airway wasn’t completely cleared yet, after removing the largest piece of scab blocking it, he could finally breathe a little. As long as oxygen could reach his lungs and waste gases could be expelled, as long as the blood could pick up oxygen, his life would be safe, at least for now.

Doctors always focus on stabilizing the patient first. Securing their life comes before tackling the underlying problem.

“Dr. Zhou’s advanced surgical skills are amazing! Truly a model for our generation.” Chen Jiaojiao gazed at Zhou Can as if he were some sort of savior, admiration glinting in her narrow eyes.

“Honestly, it’s not that surprising. Tuyu Hospital has a lot of skilled young surgeons.” Yang Chan spoke to Chen Jiaojiao, though she found herself unsure why.

Watching Chen Jiaojiao idolize Zhou Can stirred an odd sense of unease in her.

She didn’t care for it one bit.

“Tuyu does have plenty of outstanding young doctors, but it’s extremely rare to find someone young who’s truly talented in advanced surgery. You know as well as I do, Yang, that talent for traditional surgery doesn’t always translate to advanced surgery. And if you only have advanced surgery skills, but not the fundamentals of traditional surgery, it still doesn’t work. Advanced procedures have to be built on a solid base.”

Chen Jiaojiao clearly disagreed with Yang Chan’s take.

“Dr. Zhou was able to extract the scab from the bronchus with ease, so his grasping technique must be at least attending level. Remember, he’s barely over a year into his residency—not even two! That’s a scary achievement. I’m still shaky just trying to pick up beans, never mind delicate procedures. Even if I practice for another five years, I might never reach his proficiency.”

She was just stating the truth.

The training cycle for surgeons is a lot longer than most people think.

Many surgical techniques are easy to learn but hard to master.

Even with something as basic as suturing skin, many doctors can practice for a decade and only reach an average level.

To truly master suturing takes twenty or thirty years of relentless effort.

“Don’t put him on a pedestal!” Yang Chan grumbled, dropping the subject.

After successfully removing the first scab, Zhou Can, as expected, gained 101 points of experience in grasping technique. A hundred of those points were system rewards.

But there was no arrogance in him. Instead, he just stayed focused and kept clearing the child’s bronchi, alternating between suction and extraction.

Inside there was still a heavy blockage—thick pus deep in the airway, demanding patient, careful work to remove.

……

Nearly two hours later, the child’s surgery was finally complete.

The airways were now cleared, breathing function was about ninety percent restored. The cyanotic tint faded from his face, replaced by a flush. Fingernails and fingertips now glowed with healthy color. His blood pressure, heart rate, breathing, and all other vital signs stabilized within a safe range.

But the child was still burning with a fever of 41 degrees Celsius.

Zhou Can wanted to write up postoperative instructions. The child’s situation was complicated—strong antibiotics were needed to stop the bronchitis from getting worse, or else pus could build up again and block his airways.

He’d have to find a way to lower the fever too, before it damaged the child’s brain.

When a child runs a fever of forty degrees, confusion often sets in. At forty-one, things look scary. Permanent brain injury is a real risk.

Writing these postoperative instructions would be great practice for Zhou Can, testing his ability to apply both pharmacology and pathology in real life.

This meant a lot to him.

“Director Zhang, do you think I could try drafting up the child’s post-op orders—then you could review them for me?”

Zhou Can was never shy about asking for practical experience.

New doctors who are too timid about this stuff can spend three years in residency and still end up acting like helpless infants.

In other words, they’re just not ready to practice medicine on their own.

Take away their supervising doctor, and suddenly they can’t do anything themselves.

“Of course! It’s wonderful to see you so motivated, Dr. Zhou. Yang Chan, you should learn from him.”

Director Zhang Bihua agreed without hesitation.

After all, Zhou Can had just been trusted with such a dangerous bronchial extraction, so there was no reason to deny him the chance to write prescriptions, which carried almost no risk.

Bit unexpected, though, that Yang Chan got dragged into this.

With her pride, it wouldn’t be easy for the class monitor to accept being told to learn from Zhou Can.

Still, Zhou Can’s performance today was undeniably outstanding.

She finally saw what he was truly capable of.

And this was only the tip of the iceberg. In less than two years, Zhou Can had overtaken many rivals in several fields during residency. With his internal medicine rotation now underway and his pharmacology catching up, he was beginning to shine in all directions.

Traditional surgery, endoscopic procedures, pathology diagnosis, pharmacological reasoning, critical care—he’d reached high proficiency in all of them.

After getting the green light from Director Zhang, Zhou Can immediately drafted a comprehensive set of post-op orders for the child.

Postoperative instructions are usually a lot harder to write than regular hospital admission or inpatient orders.

Especially for cases like this: not only had the child just undergone a tracheotomy, but it was also a desperate, life-and-death rescue. At only a year and a half old, the case was even trickier.

So it was definitely a challenge for Zhou Can too.

“Antibiotics are essential for controlling bronchitis. The common ones include penicillins, cephalosporins, macrolides, fluoroquinolones… each class targets different bacteria. For example, almost everyone’s familiar with cephalosporins—they’re widely used in anti-infection treatments. For older adults with chronic bronchitis, they’re extra effective. But cephalosporins do come with high risks…”

Now that Zhou Can had the chance to write orders, he realized just how many factors he had to consider even for the child’s bronchitis medications alone.

He’d expected as much, though.

He worked through it step by step, weighing each decision before choosing the best options.

Twenty minutes later, he finally finished drafting the child’s post-op orders, after some back-and-forth editing.

[Pharmacological Reasoning experience +1. You have successfully written postoperative instructions for a young child for the first time. Bonus: Pharmacological Reasoning experience +100.]

Seeing the 101 experience points added to his Pharmacological Reasoning skill, Zhou Can couldn’t help but smile.

Hard work pays off. This is how he’s built up all his skills, one bit of progress at a time.

For him to reach attending level in so many fields in less than two years took much more effort than anyone realizes. Only he knows just how tough the journey has been.

Director Zhang Bihua reviewed Zhou Can’s orders closely, a look of genuine admiration spreading over her face.

“Dr. Zhou, you’ve been a resident for less than two years and you can already write post-op orders independently, and so thoroughly. Your drug combinations are appropriate, your dosages careful, your methods well chosen. It’s truly impressive. Still, there are a few areas to adjust, probably due to limited pediatric experience—”

“—specifically, some dosages and details are based on adult guidelines.”

Director Zhang pointed out the areas for improvement.

Zhou Can accepted her feedback with a humble heart.

She was right—when it came to dosage, he’d used the adult-halved approach for drugs with a good safety profile.

And strictly speaking, this child was really somewhere between an infant and a toddler. The medications had to be even milder, and the child’s tolerance levels needed consideration.

Once the orders were edited, they could be handed off to the nurses for implementation.

Though the rescue was incredibly risky, at the crucial moment Zhou Can managed to partially clear the child’s airway and save his life.

Per hospital policy, if the child hadn’t pulled through, everyone would have been seen as having done their best, but the hospital’s reputation would take a hit. No one would be blamed, but it still wouldn’t look good.

But now that the child had survived, everything changed.

Especially since Xinxiang Maternity and Child Hospital is desperate to rebuild its reputation around a few high-profile, critical or complicated cases—this was exactly what they needed for a major publicity win.

Out of the depths of despair, all clouds had suddenly lifted.

Director Tian had snapped out of her earlier hopelessness.

What could have been another disaster for Xinxiang Maternity and Child Hospital now turned into something incredibly positive. It really was a case of one thought leads to hell, another to heaven.

Everything turned around in an instant.

“Director Zhang, Dr. Zhou, Director Dai—thank you so much for saving this child. I won’t waste words, but after our seven-day round of specialist consultations, our hospital will definitely show its appreciation.”

Director Tian was refreshingly direct, no empty gestures.

Whatever the reward was, it’s likely to be a generous bonus once the series of consults ended.

Giving out a red envelope is totally normal in this context.

Just to be clear—these rewards from Xinxiang Maternity and Child Hospital are official thanks for the doctors on duty, perfectly legal and aboveboard.

The rule against accepting cash gifts only applies to accepting red envelopes from patients or family members, especially if you ask for them—that’s crossing the ethical line.

Doctors are a lot savvier nowadays.

Blatantly taking cash from patients or families is rare now, although behind-the-scenes deals with pharma reps still happen quietly and are much safer than taking red envelopes.

Previously, when there were no clear policies about this, even if someone got caught, it wasn’t a big deal.

It was just business as usual in the medical field.

Doctors work hard to get into med school, slog through five or eight years of expensive training, then face the grind of internships and residency. Landing a full-time position means finally earning a real paycheck.

So it’s perfectly normal for them to want to earn a bit extra.

Take home only two or three thousand yuan a month after social security? That’s not even enough to live on, let alone support a family. Who would stick around for that?

At least back when the rules were looser, everyone did it.

Prescribing drugs, using certain supplies, collecting kickbacks—it all added up to a decent side income.

Once you made attending, got a little bit of a reputation, you could make money covering shifts at other hospitals or with small clinics, plus your base pay. Life wasn’t so bad.

Besides those gray-area earnings and side gigs, doctors have plenty of ways to boost their income.

It just depends on the person.

As long as you aren’t blatantly ripping patients off or exploiting their families, it’s fine.

When Director Tian thanked the three of them, she put Zhou Can’s name ahead of Director Dai’s—a very telling detail.

It meant Director Dai contributed the least to the child’s rescue, while Zhou Can did the most.

Director Zhang was the most senior, so her part counts for something too. Taking everything into account, Director Tian put Zhou Can in second place—perfectly reasonable.

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If Director Dai is the petty type, she might take offense.

That’s just how things go in the real world—you can’t please everyone.

Knowing your place really matters.

Don’t overestimate yourself, but don’t underestimate others, either.

“Director Zhang, if you don’t mind my asking, isn’t your hospital’s most talented young doctor the recently promoted attending, the overseas PhD Dr. Du Leng? Honestly, though, Dr. Zhou seems even more capable. Forgive my ignorance, but could you tell me more about him? I’d like to get to know such a promising young doctor better!”

Director Tian didn’t become the head honcho by accident—she knew how to build alliances.

Seeing Zhou Can stand out like this, she immediately set about making a personal connection. If he ever made a name for himself, it could only benefit her and her hospital.

“Dr. Du Leng graduated from a top overseas university and earned a PhD—he’s outstanding, no doubt. But when it comes to diagnostic and surgical skills, from what I know, Dr. Zhou has the potential to be a true leader among Tuyu’s young generation. Say no more, Director Tian—just consider my words.”

Director Zhang’s praise startled Zhou Can, and he felt his eyelids twitch.

Wouldn’t that just make all his peers jealous?

Being labeled a leader of the next generation at Tuyu Main Hospital, packed with brilliant master’s and PhD holders, was more than he deserved.

At least, Zhou Can didn’t feel that confident just yet.

If he kept this up, though, in five or eight years, being a leader wouldn’t be out of reach.

Compared to special talents like Du Leng, Zhou Can did have clear disadvantages. For residency, he had to complete the full three years. Du Leng only did one before promotion.

Zhou Can would need four more years on the job after residency before he could even aim for attending.

Finishing his bachelor’s internship earned him his residency spot—at that point, he was considered a medical bachelor. After that, he could take the licensing exam to become a full-fledged doctor.

That’s Zhou Can’s current status: he’s a licensed physician.

After residency, he could be promoted to resident doctor. Four years as a resident, then he could try for attending—if he passed, he’d move up.

But Du Leng, as a PhD, became an attending physician after just one year of residency.

And the gap would only keep widening.

After making attending, a doctorate holder only needs three more years to apply for a senior title—by then, Zhou Can might still be stuck as a plain resident.

How does anyone even compete with that?

People who dismiss educational credentials and claim ability is everything are usually those who haven’t faced real competition.

Everyone starts at different points—you can’t compare apples and oranges.

Even with monstrous talent like Zhou Can’s, to catch up to Du Leng he’d need to improve his academic qualifications as well. He had to figure out how to upgrade his degree, fast.

The most common path is a part-time graduate degree.

Work while prepping for the graduate entrance exam.

Most bachelor’s grads go down that road.

Passing isn’t the point—just having a master’s looks much better than a simple bachelor’s.

It gives you a better calling card.

With his skills, Zhou Can could easily ask upper management at Tuyu for help, and they’d probably sort out a master’s degree for him right away.

Senior figures like Director Yin Hua and Director Tan from internal medicine had already talked with Zhou Can. If he ever wanted to jump to internal medicine, they’d help with the academic side.

But Zhou Can had his own plans—he’d take another route to boost his credentials.