Chapter 412: A Doctor’s Kindness

No one knew exactly what kind of surgery it was.

Cardiothoracic surgery has plenty of major operations, and most are extremely high-risk.

To be honest, the cardiothoracic surgeons in the operating room are all steady and cautious, but when it comes to speed, that’s their Achilles’ heel. Don’t let Dr. Hu Kan’s spotless track record with difficult heart surgeries fool you.

That’s only because every time before a surgery, Dr. Hu Kan puts in a ton of prep work.

He’s meticulous to the point where he predicts every possible scenario during surgery, making backup plans in advance or sidestepping any potential danger altogether.

Zhou Can was his true protégé, so he had a clear grasp of Dr. Hu Kan’s usual tricks when faced with difficult major surgeries.

This risk-avoidance strategy may work wonders for Dr. Hu Kan, but it doesn’t mean others like Director Xueyan or Director Le can pull it off.

After all, it tests a doctor’s experience, their judgment on outcomes, and how flexibly they can use different techniques.

No matter what, Director Xueyan is still miles from Dr. Hu Kan in surgical experience.

Some of her surgical skills are only at the associate chief level, and she still lacks finesse in adapting techniques on the fly—especially in sudden emergencies or critical situations.

Given all that, it’s not hard to guess how a risky level-four cardiac surgery would end up.

It was already late, so Zhou Can decided to look into the specifics tomorrow.

After all, the patient had already died.

Right now, he needed to focus on making sure nothing went wrong in the Emergency Department’s operating room.

Even specialized wards wouldn’t take the patient with gangrene—so the risk was easy to imagine.

He made his way over to the inpatient ward.

The Emergency Department was changing so fast it felt like a new place every month. You couldn’t call it anything but rapid progress.

The inpatient ward had doubled from one room to two.

Each ward had five beds, and there were a dozen extra temporary beds in the hallway. If emergencies came up, there was still space in the observation area and infusion room.

Even if they had to add another five or six temp beds, it wouldn’t be a problem.

“Hey, Dr. Zhou, you’re still working this late?” Tonight, the resident on duty happened to be Jiang Shuangshuang again.

“A patient with a leg wound developed gangrene, just had surgery a bit ago. I’m still worried, so I came to check up. Has the patient been transferred to the ward yet?”

Zhou Can asked.

“He just arrived. We put him in bed 22. I just checked his vitals—they’re stable for now. Still running a bit of a fever, though. His wife gave him a bowl of mashed noodles to eat.”

Jiang Shuangshuang looked at Zhou Can with genuine respect.

That’s how it is with doctors. For colleagues who are both kind and skilled, that respect comes naturally, straight from the heart.

When Zhou Can came to do rounds, his insights on the medical charts were often spot-on. His treatment notes were always forward-thinking. Jiang Shuangshuang genuinely admired him for it.

Any time she hit a wall, Zhou Can would patiently guide her.

The explanations he gave were often even more insightful than her previous mentors.

That’s what shocked and impressed her the most.

Zhou Can headed straight toward bed 22.

On his way, some family members recognized him and greeted him warmly one after another.

Zhou Can never put on airs and replied to each of them with an easygoing smile.

He treated everyone the same, looking after them like his own family. In his case, it was more than just words.

That’s a mark of true greatness. Not many doctors can manage it.

“Doctor, thank you so much! You made it possible for my husband to get surgery and proper treatment.” The patient’s wife, with her young son in tow, immediately tried to drop to her knees in gratitude as Zhou Can approached.

That scene startled Zhou Can.

He rushed forward to stop her from kneeling.

“Please, ma’am, you don’t need to do this. I’m glad I could help, and I don’t ask for anything in return. Have you all had dinner yet?” Judging by her dry, pale lips, they likely hadn’t eaten.

“I’m not hungry!”

But her stomach growled right after the words left her mouth.

“Mom said food outside is too expensive. We have to save money for Dad’s treatment!” the little boy chimed in timidly.

Kids are the most straightforward—they don’t usually lie.

Zhou Can glanced at a bag near the bed and saw a half-opened packet of instant noodles. The little boy held a steel bowl with some leftover broth inside.

Bits of noodle clung to the bowl, and the lingering aroma meant it hadn’t been long since they’d last eaten. Clearly they’d used that same bowl for the noodles.

To save money, maybe they only used half the packet.

It all made sense after that. Zhou Can’s chest tightened at the sight.

The world isn’t fair. Some can easily drop hundreds on dinner, while others can’t bring themselves to buy even a simple boxed meal outside.

For some, even a single packet of instant noodles has to be stretched for two meals.

Zhou Can was well-off and would never really understand just how hard it was for families like this.

All he knew was the family came to the city for work, and after the husband’s motorcycle accident, they’d spent a fortune on treatment.

His wife had to watch over their child and husband, so she couldn’t work either.

With a family of three, the rent, daily expenses, and especially the husband’s medical bills would eat up their savings in no time.

“Are you hungry, kiddo?”

Zhou Can knelt down and gently patted the boy’s head.

Malnutrition had left his hair soft, thin, and yellowed.

“I… I’m a little hungry,” the boy whispered, sneaking a nervous glance at his mom.

He answered in a hush, as if afraid to say too much.

“You’re adorable! I’ll bring you something to eat tomorrow,” Zhou Can promised with a warm smile.

He grinned kindly at the little boy.

“Our hospital has a charity program for patients from out of town and their families. I’ll check if you’re eligible tomorrow. If so, you can eat for free in the cafeteria.”

He directed this mostly to the boy’s mother.

“Thank you! Thank you so much!”

The man in the hospital bed sounded weak as he tried to thank them.

We’re all human. Everyone has feelings.

Zhou Can had dealt with his share of difficult family members and ungrateful patients.

But he never let that change his kindness and warmth.

Whenever he ran into someone truly in need, he always did whatever he could to help.

“You don’t have to thank me. How are you feeling now? Any discomfort?”

Zhou Can questioned his patient.

“I’m feeling a lot better, but still a little cold,” the patient replied.

Chills like that often meant serious infection—gangrene of that scale usually brought symptoms like this.

Sepsis can take a life.

And it can do so very quickly.

“I’ll have the nurse bring you an extra blanket later. Someone will come by to give you an IV. Let’s see how things are tomorrow. I hope we can save your leg.”

Zhou Can didn’t blame the patient or his wife for making bad decisions earlier, letting a wound that could’ve healed with a simple suture get infected and turn gangrenous.

There was no point in looking back and blaming anyone now.

If they could do things over, Zhou Can was sure the family wouldn’t hesitate to get treatment at a proper hospital.

Instead of pinching pennies at a tiny clinic and putting themselves in even greater danger.

Stories like theirs—where trying to save money ends up costing even more—play out in hospitals every day. Sometimes it even costs lives.

One example: a forty-one-year-old man kept feeling random stomach pains. Fearing the cost of hospital tests, he ignored it. Then one day he passed out at his construction job.

By the time coworkers got him to the hospital, it was already late-stage colon cancer.

If only he’d gotten checked sooner, maybe he could’ve beaten it early.

Another patient popped a red pimple on his nose bridge, and after, it swelled painfully and stayed red. In less than three days he landed in the ICU.

A day in the ICU costs thousands at a minimum.

For someone like him, just a day’s stay would mean tens of thousands gone.

As Zhou Can watched, the man on the bed winced in pain.

That wasn’t just from the chills.

“Is something hurting?”

“My operated leg feels a bit swollen and achy. But I’m sure it’s nothing—it’s been happening ever since the accident. Comes and goes,” the patient said, not thinking much of it.

He seemed unconcerned.

“You’ve had this swelling and ache in your leg ever since you got hurt?”

Zhou Can pressed further.

As a professional, he knew how to spot dangers patients themselves might miss.

“Yeah, it seems like it’s been like this since surgery,” the man confirmed.

“Is the pain moving around, or is it always in the same spot?”

Zhou Can continued questioning.

“Mostly moving around. It hurts across this whole area. Sometimes it feels like a drill is boring inside the leg,” the man recalled after thinking hard.

He answered after some thought.

Zhou Can’s suspicions deepened.

“Alright, just try to rest. You can eat and drink, but don’t move that leg at all. Try to use a bedpan or do everything in bed.” Zhou Can instructed.

Walking or squatting could make the wound worse—split it open, cause bleeding, or let fluids leak out.

The wound was draining. It had just been debrided for the first time, so keeping bacteria out was critical.

“When he needs the bathroom or has to wash up, try covering the wound bandage with plastic wrap or a bag. Don’t let it get wet.”

“Wet” here meant keeping out any urine or feces.

After laying it all out, Zhou Can got up to leave.

His brow creased slightly—he was clearly mulling over the patient’s condition.

Wandering pain in the leg, happening on and off and still there even now.

Could it be connected to the gangrene?

With his years of surgical experience, Zhou Can had seen local gangrene caused by arterial thrombosis before.

Right now, he highly suspected the patient’s leg might have an arterial blockage.

If that was the case, he’d need to remove the blood clot or fat embolism to restore circulation—only then would the leg’s wound heal.

Zhou Can ran outside to the night market, bought three steaming servings of dumplings, and hurried back to the emergency inpatient ward.

“Dr. Zhou, you’re back again?” Jiang Shuangshuang was still tending to her patients with care.

IVs and wound care were usually handled by nurses.

But honestly, if doctors and nurses always split hairs, it ruins the team spirit. Both sides should work together for one goal—to get their patients well again.

On that front, both Jiang Shuangshuang and Lin Ping did their jobs beautifully.

“I saw a dumpling stand outside, so I brought some for bed 22’s patient and his family. The little one’s too young to go hungry!”

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Zhou Can grinned as he explained.

“Poor kid indeed. And I’ve never heard of any hospital around here providing three meals to patients and their families. Dr. Zhou, you really are one of a kind.”

A pretty smile curled at her lips.

“Ha, in adulthood, we learn to keep a secret. If you can help, just do it. Everyone has tough times.”

Zhou Can gave her a sly wink as he laughed.

Jiang Shuangshuang watched his back as he walked away, a beautiful smile still on her face.

Warmth can light up a person’s heart.

And it can inspire others, setting an example.

Those who act with great virtue can shoulder the world.

Safe to say, Zhou Can stood even taller in Jiang Shuangshuang’s heart now. That impression would last a lifetime, quietly shaping her whole career.

When Zhou Can delivered the dumplings, the nurse had already started the patient’s IV.

“I grabbed some food while I was out for supper—thought you might like some too. Hope it suits your taste.”

“Thank you—thank you so much! How much do I owe you?”

The patient’s wife teared up, eyes brimming with gratitude.

Only those who have tasted helplessness, despair, and cold indifference know just how precious a stranger’s kindness can be.

When she called around asking to borrow money for her husband’s treatment, everyone turned her down.

When she tried to get her husband admitted for a leg-saving operation, every major hospital she tried pushed her away, refusing to take him in.

It wasn’t until she met Zhou Can that someone finally gave them hope.

“No need! It’s on me.”

Zhou Can firmly refused her money.

“I’ve thought more about his condition. Honestly, a young and otherwise healthy man like him, with a wound treated promptly, shouldn’t have developed gangrene. Given that he mentioned wandering pain in his leg, I recommend an ultrasound to check for any vascular blockage.”

He patiently explained his new recommendations to the family.

“You know how serious this is. Right now, saving his leg is a race against the clock. If you agree to the test, I’ll get authorization for a stat ultrasound. There’s someone on duty at our emergency ultrasound lab tonight. If it’s a clot, we can’t afford to wait—the clot has to come out immediately…”

Zhou Can explained everything thoroughly and carefully.

“Dr. Zhou, we trust you completely. If you say we should do the test, we’ll do it,” the wife replied.

She had nothing but faith in Zhou Can.

This was the ideal doctor-patient relationship—when patients trust their doctors, the doctors can do everything in their power.

“Alright, let me get approval from a senior doctor and order the tests. Someone will come soon to do the ultrasound.”

When Zhou Can walked out, he called Dr. Xu right away.

You always have to report something like this to Dr. Xu.