Chapter 348: Miracle Hands

Zhou Can looked up to see the nurse named Tutu standing before him.

Their eyes met, and a hint of awkwardness flashed across her face.

Especially when she remembered how she’d mocked Zhou Can in the ward not long ago, her embarrassment burned even deeper.

“I’m just a trainee. Honestly, I can’t do much to help!”

Zhou Can really didn’t want to get involved in this mess.

That patient had already been in the emergency center for over thirty minutes. If things were going well, the County People’s Hospital should have been able to save them by now.

The fact they wanted him over now meant the patient’s condition was getting worse.

He’d told the family early on that the prognosis might be very poor.

He had no authority here, wasn’t familiar with the place, and honestly, lending a hand wouldn’t mean much.

Unless every doctor and nurse did exactly what he said—and even then, only if he wasn’t blamed if the patient died—maybe then he’d consider it.

“Director Wang asked me himself to invite you for a consultation. Please, don’t put me in a tough spot, okay?” She was just a young nurse, and if she messed up this task from her director, she’d definitely get scolded.

She might even get in trouble at work.

“Your director sure knows how to use your teary puppy-dog face as a secret weapon. All right, I’ll go have a look. But I want to be clear—I’ll do what I can, that’s all.”

Zhou Can saw the mist in her eyes and finally agreed.

Making a young nurse cry in public would look bad.

Besides, he couldn’t bring himself to say no.

“Thank you! Thank you so much!”

Her tears vanished and a smile broke through.

“That emotional flip was fast! Did you graduate from the Imperial Film Academy or something?” Zhou Can teased her with a grin.

“Of course not! I went to a proper nursing college.”

She realized that Zhou Can wasn’t as cold as she’d thought, and couldn’t help but give him a quick once-over.

“Are all doctors at Tuyu Hospital as amazing as you?”

“I’ve never thought of myself as particularly amazing. But I can say Tuyu Hospital has a lot of outstanding doctors.”

That was the honest truth.

Tuyu boasted plenty of top-tier experts, including some real heavyweights in their fields.

Zhou Can was good, but he hadn’t been at it all that long. It wasn’t his style to show off.

“I think you’re amazing! You figured out that patient had a heart problem with just a glance or two. When you said the patient’s blood pressures didn’t match in both arms, I didn’t buy it at all. But after measuring, you were right. I was stunned, honestly. It completely changed how I saw things!”

She really could talk when she got going.

Luckily, the County People’s Hospital wasn’t big—just a handful of buildings. The two of them soon reached the emergency center.

Outside the resuscitation room, the patient’s wife was already sobbing uncontrollably.

From the looks of it, they’d clearly signed the critical condition notice.

Doctors and nurses moved in and out of the resuscitation room with grim faces and hurried steps. It was obvious a desperate rescue was underway inside.

Zhou Can followed Tutu into the resuscitation room, immediately spotting the patient lying on the emergency bed.

Just half an hour ago, the patient was fine. Now he’d lost consciousness.

Dr. Luo Jian, Cheng Dazhuang and several other staff were busy doing everything possible to save him.

“Director Wang, I’ve brought Dr. Zhou.”

“Oh my, such a young doctor! Dr. Zhou, nice to meet you!” Director Wang was a balding, bespectacled man in his fifties, his eyes heavy with bags.

Older men and women, especially those with active night lives, seemed to struggle with noticeable bags under their eyes.

But unlike younger people, these bags only deepened with age.

It’s the nature of the medical profession—decent rest is a rare luxury.

Getting called to the hospital in the dead of night to rescue a patient was run-of-the-mill, so poor sleep made eye bags inevitable.

“Hello!”

Zhou Can shook his hand.

“Sorry for bringing you here so abruptly, I had little choice. I heard you’re the one who diagnosed this patient—Tuyu Hospital’s reputation is well deserved! The patient’s situation is very severe, and I’m afraid the prognosis is bleak. Do you have any good ideas?”

Director Wang handed Zhou Can the latest cardiac ultrasound results.

“Wow, this guy’s cardiovascular blockage is really serious. If only they’d caught it sooner.”

Zhou Can felt a strong sense of regret after seeing the scan.

“When the patient arrived, his main complaint was abdominal pain. No one expected heart trouble. We’ve tried thrombolytic therapy, but there’s little effect,” Director Wang admitted, a bit embarrassed. “He’s in his forties, backbone of his family, with aging parents and young kids. Dr. Zhou, if you have a plan—I’d say it’s worth a shot, even if it’s risky.”

This was the reality for the County People’s Hospital doctors. If Zhou Can had no solution, they’d have to stick to regular emergency care. If that didn’t work in time, they’d inform the family the patient couldn’t be saved.

“Based on the scan, there’s definitely an arterial embolism here. The ideal is a coronary angiogram, inserting a guidewire from the femoral artery to clear the blockage and place a stent. That’ll open things up.”

Zhou Can presented his treatment plan.

Traditional open-heart surgery wouldn’t make it in time. If they’d spotted it earlier, there might’ve been hope.

Director Wang sighed. “I know interventional treatment is best, but our hospital’s technical level is limited. Arteriography, thrombectomy, stenting—none of those can be completed quickly enough here.”

A coronary angiogram might be routine at a big hospital like Tuyu, but here, it was a real challenge.

Especially in emergencies—doctors’ time was severely limited.

Even something like anesthesia or catheter insertion was tough to do well.

Honestly, even lumbar punctures—supposedly standard—weren’t reliably performed at most county hospitals. Failed punctures happened all the time.

The gap in skills between county and provincial tertiary hospitals was invisible but very real.

Was it because major hospitals were hoarding technology? Not really.

Sure, a lot of core skills stayed secret.

But everyone needed to make a living. If they taught the county doctors everything, patients would stop traveling to the big hospitals. How would they survive?

And besides, highly difficult surgeries and treatments needed a strong, complete team.

You needed an anesthesiologist, instrument nurse, assisting scrub nurse, Attending Nurse, nurses dedicated to post-op nutrition, rehab, and general care—not to mention surgical assistants, sometimes two chief surgeons working at the same time.

A county hospital could hardly put together such a top-tier crew.

Even if they had a genius doctor or nurse, the tough environment meant they’d either leave or fade into the crowd.

Even with a great team, lacking the right equipment was another hurdle.

Medical hardware cost tens of millions a set—even big provincial hospitals debated such purchases. For small hospitals, it was close to impossible.

Hospital leadership always had to worry about breaking even.

Even with the right team, if your lab was lacking, you could only run basic tests. Anything advanced got sent to major hospitals.

Director Wang let out a helpless sigh as he looked at the dying patient. It was hard not to sympathize.

“So, you at least have angiography and interventional equipment, right?”

Zhou Can asked.

“Of course! We’re a tertiary hospital, after all!” Director Wang squared his shoulders, protecting his hospital’s reputation.

“How about nurses who can assist confidently?”

Zhou Can nodded, pressing for details.

“I can assist!”

A woman in her forties raised her hand.

“That’s our head nurse, Liu Bin, from cardiothoracic surgery. She trained at Tuyu and excels at all kinds of assist work,” Director Wang added, introducing the nurse and her credentials.

He was quietly hopeful. Maybe this young doctor from Tuyu could pull off a miracle.

Judging by his own hospital’s level, saving the patient was nearly impossible.

Now, all hopes lay with this young doctor from Tuyu.

Zhou Can’s ability to diagnose so quickly earned Director Wang’s respect—and trust.

“Nice to meet you, Head Nurse Liu.”

Zhou Can gave her a courteous nod.

Hearing she’d trained at Tuyu made Zhou Can feel a surprising sense of kinship.

It was like running into someone from your hometown in a foreign land.

“It’s an honor to meet you, Dr. Zhou! Getting a position at Tuyu is no small feat. You’re very impressive for your age!” She smiled and offered her hand.

Zhou Can shook it with gentlemanly grace.

“You’re too kind. I’m just a regular doctor at Tuyu,” he said modestly, then looked at Director Wang. “If you and Head Nurse Liu trust me, I can attempt the angiography, thrombectomy, and stent placement.”

Interventional and endoscopic surgeries were right in Zhou Can’s wheelhouse.

As for punctures, he could do those in his sleep.

His injection skills even surpassed those of head nurses with decades of experience.

“Dr. Zhou, you helping to save a life is wonderful. But you know how tough things are in healthcare these days—just to confirm, are you at least thirty percent confident?”

Normally, surgeries and treatments were ranked by odds of success.

If a doctor told a family the chance was less than ten percent, that was nearly hopeless. Over thirty percent was worth trying. If the odds were fifty-fifty, that meant success rates over ninety percent.

The last case was when a doctor told a family, ‘We’ve done plenty of these, we’re highly confident.’ That basically meant a 99.9% rate.

If things still went wrong, it was simply fate.

“I’ve got at least a thirty percent chance.”

Zhou Can replied calmly.

“Then let’s get started! Talk to the family for consent, get the forms signed, and move the patient to the intervention room for further rescue.”

Director Wang didn’t hesitate. With over a thirty percent chance, why not try?

But Dr. Luo Jian quietly pulled Director Wang aside. “He’s just a trainee. Isn’t it risky to let him operate?”

“Every procedure has risks. But this is our only shot—interventional treatment is the only way to save him right now. Let’s throw all our support behind Dr. Zhou.”

Once Director Wang made up his mind, he was incredibly decisive.

No amount of persuasion from Dr. Luo could sway him.

Inside the interventional operating room, Zhou Can was already suited up in a lead apron, standing at the surgeon’s position.

Everyone else focused on him, ready to assist however they could—even Director Wang took a back seat as his assistant, all to give the patient a chance.

Most healthcare workers truly respected every life.

Those who gambled with patients’ lives for personal gain were the rare exception.

“2ml lidocaine!”

Zhou Can was perfectly steady.

Cardiac angiograms were typically done under local anesthesia. The patient stayed awake.

He used lidocaine for the subcutaneous injection.

“Nice job on prepping the area and setting up the IV, Head Nurse Liu!”

Zhou Can acted at ease, completely in his element.

“Thanks! I do this a lot—it’s second nature now.”

She couldn’t help but smile.

“With your support, I’m confident. Let’s start the puncture.”

Zhou Can began the arterial puncture.

They usually used the right radial artery.

Zhou Can performed the puncture smoothly and got the blood return on the first try. Head Nurse Liu and Director Wang, watching nearby, felt a lot of their tension melt away as they saw how precise and skilled he was.

This young man was the real deal.

Cheng Dazhuang watched with envy as his childhood friend pulled off an operation he could only dream of.

Dr. Luo Jian’s expression kept shifting, but he watched carefully in silence.

“Get the introducer, catheter, and guidewire ready!”

Zhou Can barely needed to say this—Head Nurse Liu had everything prepared already.

He took the devices from her, maneuvered the catheter retrograde along the descending aorta to the aortic root, then threaded it into both the left and right coronary arteries. Every stage went as smooth as water—fast, seamless.

He finished all of it in less than ten seconds.

His skills left Director Wang, Head Nurse Liu and the others in stunned disbelief.

“Wait—was that really a coronary angiogram? How did it look so easy in Dr. Zhou’s hands?”

“He’s this good, but just a trainee? No way, not buying it.”

If Director Wang weren’t afraid to distract Zhou Can, he’d have asked what his real position was—a trainee couldn’t possibly have that level of skill.

“Head Nurse Liu, don’t just stand there! Contrast agent!”

Zhou Can turned to see her still frozen in shock and had to snap her out of it.

“Oh—yes! Right away!”

She quickly handed over the prepped contrast agent.

After injecting contrast into all three vessels, the imaging appeared on the screen.

Which segment was narrowed or blocked was obvious at a glance.

“So that’s the problem. Is the thrombectomy equipment ready?”

With a single look Zhou Can had pinpointed the cause.

He picked up the pace. This man had a real shot at survival.

But, the artery had been blocked for a while. It would leave its mark. Dead heart muscle couldn’t recover—and that would affect his future cardiac function.

After watching Zhou Can perform the thrombectomy and place the stent, Director Wang and the rest were completely convinced.

To them, Zhou Can was simply a miracle worker.

If the angiogram was already tough, the thrombectomy and stent placement were next level.

But in Zhou Can’s hands, they looked easy as pie.

He completed them—fast and flawless.

This was real skill.

“No wonder Tuyu Hospital is so famous. If I could train there—even for a month or two—I could die happy.”

Director Wang was in his fifties. Opportunities to train at this stage in his career were rare.