Chapter 519: A Sliver of Hope in Four Hours

“Uh… I think he might have some good treatment suggestions he’d like to share with us.” Even Dr. He wouldn’t be foolish enough to say anything that’d upset the two chiefs.

You can’t exactly say their efforts to save the patient have gone nowhere and Zhou Can has something better up his sleeve, right?

He figured the two chiefs understood what he was getting at.

“The patient is still unconscious. We’re doing everything we can to stabilize his vital signs before we figure out the next steps. There’s nothing wrong with that. No matter how amazing Zhou Can is, he’d still follow the same procedures as we do.”

Pang Houzhong tossed out the comment, clearly unimpressed.

Normally, as a young resident, he wouldn’t dare speak during the attending and chief’s conversation.

He only got away with it because he was Chief Xiang’s apprentice.

Honestly, no matter where you work, if you get the favor of the big boss, you can pretty much do as you please. Your status and standing are way above the average coworker.

“I’m not too sure myself. I just wanted to briefly report what I’ve noticed to the two chiefs.”

Dr. He glanced at Pang Houzhong but didn’t continue the argument.

Still, Pang Houzhong’s bluntness obviously rubbed him the wrong way.

“Professor Xiang, maybe we could ask Zhou Can directly? We might get a better sense of his medical skills too.”

Ru Yaji had a very simple motive—she wasn’t convinced and wanted to see if Zhou Can was really as capable as they said.

Not long ago, Zhou Can had pinpointed the patient’s critical condition was due to a central venous thrombosis.

But maybe he just got lucky.

Like, maybe he’d seen a similar case before. Spotting the issue wouldn’t be too hard in that situation.

“Nonsense! What excuse do we have to consult him? Are we inviting him for a consultation?”

Chief Xiang scolded Ru Yaji in front of everyone.

She was thinking far too simply, not realizing how it could affect the reputation of the Provincial People’s Hospital.

If Zhou Can were our own doctor, maybe, just maybe, we could swallow our pride and ask him to consult. But he’s from Tuyu Hospital. If we really invite him here and, like with the blood clot, get outdone again, what would that do to the provincial hospital’s face?

Chief Xiang viewed things from a higher perspective and saw further than the others.

Just then, a nurse walked in from outside.

“Professor Xiang, one of the patient’s family members who visited bed 13 left this note and asked me to hand it to you personally.” It was the same young nurse who had escorted Zhou Can into the ICU.

She was pretty low on the totem pole with little experience.

Most of her work was running errands and odd jobs.

Every nurse builds experience by doing all those little side tasks, step by step.

There are unwritten rules on how to address every rank of doctor in the hospital.

Usually, associate chief physicians are addressed as ‘Chief so-and-so.’ Don’t go tossing ‘associate chief’ around every time. For hospital assistants or deputy directors, always use ‘Director so-and-so.’

Don’t call an associate or chief physician ‘Mentor’—they won’t appreciate it.

Chief physicians prefer to be called ‘Chief so-and-so,’ or, if you really want to impress, ‘Professor so-and-so.’

It’s like when you go to a government office and see someone doing odd jobs. If you call them ‘Comrade,’ they might ignore you. But say ‘Leader,’ and suddenly they’re all smiles and happy to help.

So there’s a lot to learn just in how you address your superiors.

Chief physicians love being called ‘Professor’ more than ‘Chief.’ And if a chief physician is also a deputy director, you need to call them ‘Director’ instead.

Always use the highest title they’ve got.

Chief Xiang was a bit surprised. He took the note and saw it was folded into a triangle—impossible to read unless you opened it yourself.

He instantly realized Zhou Can must be looking out for him, saving face and protecting his authority by not letting anyone else see the note.

“Keep discussing the treatment plan for the patient in bed 13.”

Chief Xiang stood and walked outside to open the note.

There was just a single line: ‘Golden rescue window: four hours.’

Those few words hit Chief Xiang like a hammer straight to the heart.

With his experience and wisdom, he knew immediately Zhou Can meant the patient in bed 13.

Take cardiac or respiratory arrest, for example. It’s widely accepted that the golden window for rescue is three minutes. Start CPR in those three minutes and the risk of irreversible damage is low.

Go beyond that and the chances of saving someone drop sharply.

Even if you manage to revive them, there’s a high risk of brain death or ending up in a vegetative state. Or maybe severe cognitive impairment. In those cases, bringing someone back doesn’t mean much.

It can put a terrible burden on their family.

Almost three hours had gone by since bed 13’s patient was admitted.

The Provincial People’s Hospital had only provided life support so far, strictly working to stabilize vital signs—nothing aggressive, just a very cautious approach.

Zhou Can’s meaning was clear. He was telling Chief Xiang: this patient’s golden rescue time needs to be used up within four hours.

Going over that window doesn’t guarantee a bad outcome,

but chances are, the disease will take an irreversible turn or they’ll lose their shot at being saved.

After reading the note, Chief Xiang stood there in silence, deep in thought.

Doing everything possible to save a life, overcoming every obstacle—that is the sacred duty and professional ethic of every doctor.

Zhou Can never spelled it out, but he was putting subtle pressure on him.

If they missed the golden rescue window, there’d be no official blame on the hospital. But Chief Xiang would never escape the guilt in his conscience.

Conscience is an invisible ruler.

It exists in every heart.

When we do wrong or act selfishly and hurt others, if we’re decent people, our conscience makes us uneasy—even guilty.

Those who are cold and heartless might not care about the feelings they’ve hurt.

That’s what people call someone with ‘no conscience.’

But people like that are rare. Most folks in this world are good.

It takes real competence and ethics to earn such high standing like Chief Xiang.

The note weighed heavy on his mind. He was tormented by what it implied.

Wave after wave of invisible pressure crashed over him.

That single note pushed him to look for ways to actively rescue the patient in bed 13.

After a while, he went back to the on-call room.

“Let me see the patient file for bed 13 again.”

Everyone saw the serious look on his face and didn’t dare ask what happened.

Pang Houzhong was quick to hand over all the exam results and reports.

“The intracranial fluid is pretty severe. Did you come up with any solutions during your discussion just now?”

“Usually, surgery is the answer. Both Orthopedics and Neurosurgery would need to operate together. But as you can see, the patient simply can’t handle anesthesia or surgery in his current state.”

Director Zhao looked helpless.

Some patients just aren’t strong enough to go under the knife. The only option left is conservative treatment.

If the patient dies on the table, what would they tell the family?

Even if the family doesn’t make a fuss, a death in surgery damages the hospital’s performance evaluations.

It also affects the chief surgeon’s record, maybe even leads to punishment.

So nobody wants to take on ‘thankless’ jobs like that.

“Have you had the Neurosurgery experts take a look?” Chief Xiang asked as he pored over the file, his face clouded.

The patient’s injuries were catastrophic, with many internal problems still undetermined, making rescue efforts incredibly difficult.

“Yes. After Emergency admitted him, Neurosurgery, Thoracic, and Orthopedics all consulted. Thoracic suspects the spleen is ruptured, with other organs also damaged and displaced—very severe case. Neurosurgery found intracranial bleeding, very close to the brain stem—extremely risky, almost impossible to operate. Orthopedics found multiple fractures all over—suggested waiting on surgery for now.”

When Director Zhao finished, Chief Xiang just nodded, saying nothing.

The injuries were so grave there might not even be a ‘later.’

Even if they wanted to try something aggressive, not every doctor has what it takes.

With a patient like this, who’d dare to be the one wielding the scalpel?

Chief Xiang was a Critical Care specialist—not qualified or trained for surgery.

“Check if Zhou Can has left yet. If he’s still here, ask him to my office—I want to talk to him.”

After much deliberation, Chief Xiang finally made his difficult decision.

After the thrombectomy, the bed 13 patient’s vitals briefly stabilized.

But everyone knew the condition was still deteriorating. He might not even survive the night.

So many high-fall trauma patients like this end up dying despite rescue.

People were surprised when Chief Xiang said that.

The ‘errand’ nurse dashed out to find Zhou Can.

“Why are you looking at me like that? Weren’t you the ones who told me I should invite Zhou Can to consult? That’s exactly what I’m doing. There’s no harm in hearing his thoughts.”

Even Chief Xiang was feeling the pressure of everyone’s stares.

He had to explain himself.

Everyone was even more curious about what Zhou Can wrote on that note—what changed Chief Xiang’s mind so drastically?

But no one dared ask directly.

After writing the note, Zhou Can didn’t leave right away. Instead, he told Lu Fen some basic facts about Deputy Director Lu’s condition.

With the current treatment at the Provincial People’s Hospital, Deputy Director Lu might not make it through the night.

Zhou Can was weighing whether to advise Lu Fen to transfer Deputy Director Lu to Tuyu Hospital.

With such a critical patient, transferring is risky to begin with.

Most can’t even leave the ICU.

With so many fractures, moving Deputy Director Lu could easily cause more injuries.

Which made this incredibly tricky.

And honestly, if they transferred him but it didn’t work out, Tuyu Hospital would be getting into huge trouble.

Despite his status at Tuyu, Zhou Can had to treat something like this very cautiously.

One thing was certain: if Deputy Director Lu could be moved to Tuyu Hospital and the family cooperated, Zhou Can would do everything he could to persuade all the relevant departments to fight for his case.

Of course, that was just his personal wish for now.

In practice, there were too many barriers—it was almost impossible.

The best option was for Deputy Director Lu to stay at the Provincial People’s Hospital. If Zhou Can could persuade them to try something more active, that would be perfect.

He had already started speaking with Lu Fen, laying out some of the risks and the reality of Deputy Director Lu’s situation.

Still, since he didn’t know Lu Fen that well and she was so young, with hardly any life experience,

he went very cautiously, avoiding anything that could cause controversy.

He just dropped hints and gave gentle reminders.

She was Deputy Director Lu’s only immediate family—the one with the right to decide everything about his care.

If he could prep her mindset now, it’d give him more confidence when talking with the Provincial People’s Hospital later.

If the family objected, even if he convinced the hospital to go all out, it’d be pointless.

“Dr. Zhou, I’m so glad you haven’t left yet!”

The young nurse sent to find Zhou Can perked up the moment she spotted him.

She couldn’t hide her respect for him.

She even sounded a bit reverent.

“What is it?”

Zhou Can glanced up at her.

“It’s like this—our Chief Xiang would like you to come to his office for a chat. Are you free now?”

“Sure.”

That was all Zhou Can said.

He really seemed to be expecting this.

He followed the nurse to Chief Xiang’s office, which turned out to be empty.

“Dr. Zhou, please have a seat. Chief Xiang will be here any minute.”

“Alright.”

Zhou Can nodded.

“Everyone says you’re an incredible doctor! This is my first time seeing a truly exceptional young physician from Tuyu Hospital. You’re nothing like those others I’ve met before.”

Admiration and respect shone in the nurse’s eyes.

Zhou Can was only a few years older than her, but his skill was impressive.

She’d already called Chief Xiang and told him Zhou Can was waiting in his office. For now she stayed to keep him company.

No need to let a guest feel unwelcome.

She was honestly curious about Tuyu Hospital too—and wanted to get the inside scoop from Zhou Can.

In a way, Zhou Can wanted to know what the Provincial People’s Hospital was really like as well.

Strictly speaking, they were rivals.

“Heh, you flatter me.”

Zhou Can wasn’t really interested in chatting with the nurse.

He just replied indifferently.

But she was full of enthusiasm.

“Are there a lot of talented young doctors and nurses like you at Tuyu Hospital?”

“There are plenty better than me.”

Zhou Can answered seriously.

He never thought of himself as outstanding, because his dream was to become one of the world’s top doctors—and build a true dream team.