Chapter 520: A Nurse’s Struggles and the Art of Saving Lives

“If I get the chance, I’d really love to visit your Tuyu Hospital. I chose to specialize in critical care nursing, and it took a ton of effort to finally land a spot in the Critical Care Department. But now that I’m here, I’ve realized just how much I still don’t understand.”

The young nurse poured her workplace frustrations out to Zhou Can.

Even though she was still running errands as a nurse in the ICU, she was already ahead of many others.

After all, to work in the ICU, you need at least three years of clinical nursing experience, and you have to clear a whole series of assessments and exams.

Unless you’re some kind of prodigy, pretty much every newcomer in the Critical Care Department starts out with menial work.

Standing by, she watched the senior doctors in action, soaking up every bit of experience about rescuing and caring for critical patients.

It usually takes a year or two of grinding before you can officially take shifts on your own.

If you want to be the sole nurse on duty, it’ll take even longer.

After hearing her out, Zhou Can smiled. “Maybe someday the higher-ups of both our hospitals could arrange for an exchange, sending medical staff to train and learn from each other. It’d help raise the standard of care for both hospitals.”

This idea had only struck Zhou Can after observing the ICU work at the Provincial People’s Hospital.

If both hospitals stayed connected, they’d be able to learn from each other’s strengths.

“That sounds like a great idea! It’s just that I’m the lowest-ranked nurse here—I have no right to make this kind of suggestion, and I never get to interact with the top leadership. Maybe you could run it by Chief Xiang when he gets here?”

This young nurse wasn’t some clueless rookie just starting out.

She might not be scheming, but she definitely knew where she stood.

You can only do as much as your abilities allow.

Zhou Can might have easy access to Tuyu Hospital’s higher-ups, even those at the head of the hospital itself, but it’s not like every nurse or doctor has that kind of privilege.

“Haha, sorry to keep you waiting, Dr. Zhou!”

Chief Xiang breezed in with a boisterous laugh.

“You go ahead and get back to work.”

As soon as he walked in, Chief Xiang nodded to the young nurse.

He couldn’t even recall the nurse’s name—that pretty much sums up life at the bottom.

It can take three to five years in a department before the big bosses remember your name.

“Goodbye, Chief Xiang! Goodbye, Dr. Zhou!”

The young nurse waved to both of them, pulling the door closed as she left the office.

She wasn’t naive—she knew perfectly well that Chief Xiang was telling her to leave because he didn’t want her overhearing his conversation with Zhou Can.

In fact, she could probably guess what they were about to discuss.

Chances are, it would be about how Zhou Can planned to treat the patient in Bed 13.

As a chief physician at the Provincial People’s Hospital, there was no way Chief Xiang wanted outsiders hearing this kind of talk. If word leaked out, it could cause all sorts of trouble for him and the hospital.

After all, Zhou Can was only a young doctor from Tuyu Hospital—not exactly high on the food chain.

“Dr. Zhou, please have some tea!”

Chief Xiang offered tea with real courtesy. To be fair, Zhou Can had earned this respect by proving his skills.

Don’t let Chief Xiang’s lofty title fool you—he might be a chief physician and a professor, but in terms of potential, Zhou Can might one day surpass him.

Never underestimate the power of potential.

There’s a saying: never look down on the young and struggling; in thirty years everything can change.

Give it ten or twenty years, and Zhou Can could be sitting at the top of the medical world, outranking Chief Xiang.

“Thank you for inviting me to share some tea.”

Zhou Can stood up and accepted the cup with both hands, every bit the picture of humility.

He made sure to show Chief Xiang the respect he deserved.

“You’re truly one of Tuyu Hospital’s outstanding young talents, Dr. Zhou! Turns out, the cause for that Bed 13 patient really was a deep vein thrombosis, just like you said. Having the chance to see the skills of Tuyu Hospital’s young doctors in person—it’s an honor for me.”

With those words, Chief Xiang had lowered his stance considerably.

Respect goes both ways.

Since Zhou Can treated him with humility and respect, Chief Xiang felt comfortable meeting him halfway.

Admitting that the Bed 13 patient’s critical condition was indeed due to a blood clot was Chief Xiang’s way of acknowledging Zhou Can’s skills.

“You’re too kind! Honestly, even if I hadn’t pointed it out, you and your team would’ve figured it out. In the heat of saving lives, things just get overlooked sometimes. By the way, do you know how my colleague is doing now?”

Zhou Can shifted the topic without missing a beat.

Avoiding any awkwardness in the conversation.

“His vital signs are fairly stable for now, but his injuries are severe. The outlook isn’t good.” Chief Xiang’s tone turned grave.

“Yeah, I saw his injuries during visiting hours, and it hit me really hard. I just hope he pulls through.” Zhou Can’s face was clouded with worry. “Chief Xiang, I can tell you have great medical ethics and extraordinary character. Let’s be honest—I’ll just ask straight out.”

He heaped praise on Chief Xiang, setting the stage for what came next.

Smart move—it made the next part of the conversation smoother.

In situations like this, quietly steering the conversation and creating a favorable atmosphere is quite an art form.

“Go ahead, Dr. Zhou. Ask me anything.”

Chief Xiang’s expression turned much more serious.

“This is just my personal view, and I hope you won’t take offense. Is my colleague’s treatment essentially limited to conservative measures to keep his vital signs steady for now?”

“Yeah, pretty much. You’re a doctor—you know there’s no way he could handle surgery at this point.”

Chief Xiang didn’t hide the truth.

“Would you mind if I took a look at his test results? Sigh. We were once colleagues, and now, seeing someone his age brought so low by a single misstep, it’s honestly heartbreaking. Maybe it’s wishful thinking, but I just want to do what I can.”

Zhou Can knew that if he wanted to persuade Chief Xiang, he first needed to tap into his empathy.

It’s not that hard to do.

Appealing to emotion usually works fast.

Besides, he truly did feel for Deputy Director Lu’s situation.

“I’ve brought all the lab reports and test results. Go ahead and take a look.”

Chief Xiang handed Zhou Can the folder of materials without hesitation.

Taking it, Zhou Can thought to himself, Looks like Chief Xiang came prepared to discuss how to save this patient. The groundwork was all in place.

Which suited him just fine.

He began to carefully review Deputy Director Lu’s test results.

Once he’d finished, he sank into deep thought.

The injuries were severe—according to the tests, the brain had definitely taken damage, and there was bleeding around the brainstem.

It’s normal—older people often develop vascular sclerosis and arterial plaque.

Being a doctor is a high-risk job, with all the late nights and crazy hours.

Problems are bound to surface sooner or later.

Deputy Director Lu was already over fifty, so intracranial vascular issues were even more likely.

Based on the current test results, Zhou Can figured those blood vessels in his brain weren’t in great shape to begin with. The fall had caused severe impact to the head, eventually rupturing a cerebral artery.

That was his initial diagnosis after looking at the scans.

Thanks to his advanced skills in hemostasis and top-level pathological diagnosis, he could reach such a direct conclusion.

A high level of diagnostic ability comes from combining experience, deep medical knowledge, sharp observation, and clear judgment—you need strength in every area.

To pinpoint the bleeding, they’d need to do an angiogram.

So far, they’d only done a head ultrasound and CT scan.

But an angiogram is a high-risk test, and the hospital wouldn’t risk it unless absolutely necessary.

For Zhou Can, though, the two tests gave him enough information.

He’d basically locked in the bleeding site.

The main source was probably an artery near the brainstem, with maybe three or four smaller sources elsewhere.

The scariest part was the ruptured main artery, especially if it was a hidden aneurysm or atherosclerotic vessel break—they almost never stop bleeding on their own.

Without surgery, it’s nearly impossible for the patient to recover on their own.

The condition would only get worse: more fluid in the skull, rising intracranial pressure, and all sorts of dangerous complications.

Zhou Can’s plan for emergency rescue was to drill burr holes to drain the fluid, then use a neuroendoscopic procedure to repair the ruptured artery.

It would be extremely difficult, but it was the only hope for a direct and effective rescue.

After checking the head, he moved on to the situation in the chest and abdomen.

The head and torso both contain vital organs—injuries anywhere can be fatal.

Sure, limb injuries can kill too, but they’re much less dangerous and usually buy doctors more time.

At least they’d give the medical team a little breathing room.

There was fluid in the chest and abdomen too, which pointed to serious internal bleeding. Judging by the location, it looked a lot like a ruptured spleen.

The spleen is a unique organ—when it takes a strong blow, it’s especially prone to rupture.

After studying the results closely, Zhou Can’s brow furrowed.

“This doesn’t look like a simple splenic rupture…”

He muttered to himself.

“Did you spot something unusual, Dr. Zhou?”

Chief Xiang, who had been quietly sitting behind his desk, finally broke his silence. He didn’t want to interrupt Zhou Can’s train of thought.

Doctors all know that reviewing patient results requires total focus and careful analysis.

“Judging from the scans and tests, I’m worried the damage extends beyond the spleen. The pancreas might also be affected, and maybe the left kidney as well.”

Zhou Can stated his diagnosis.

At this point, everyone was just discussing possibilities—there was no reason to hold back.

“I noticed the left kidney injuries too. But the pancreas is just a glandular organ—nearly never see blunt force injuries there, and even if it happens, it’s normally minor and heals on its own.”

That was Chief Xiang’s perspective.

“It does seem strange, but I recommend we check the pancreas anyway. If left untreated, it could cause acute pancreatitis, even pancreatic necrosis. If…”

Zhou Can left the rest unsaid.

“If what?”

Chief Xiang pressed him.

“Never mind. That scenario is extremely unlikely.”

Zhou Can waved it off, not wanting to go there.

“That doesn’t sound like you, Dr. Zhou. I came here specifically to talk about this patient’s case behind closed doors—you can speak freely here.”

Chief Xiang looked a little annoyed.

He didn’t care for people who beat around the bush.

“Alright. If you were willing to operate on patient 13 right now, I’d volunteer. The splenic rupture needs to be addressed. Traditional open surgery isn’t an option, but an endoscopic approach might be feasible. I believe the patient’s family would be willing to accept the risk.”

Of course, since Zhou Can was an outside doctor, the odds of him joining the Provincial People’s Hospital’s surgical team were next to none.

After all, nobody here knew what he was really capable of—no chief physician would say yes so lightly.

Yet Chief Xiang barely reacted.

“If you were responsible for saving this patient, what would your plan be? You can tell me directly.”

The look in Chief Xiang’s eyes was one of genuine sincerity.

It was the kind of sincerity born from a deep desire to save a life.

People with a conscience can’t help but feel empathy in moments like this.

Doctors may seem cold on the surface, but most are soft-hearted. Even if they act detached, they’ll often help patients with problems no one else sees.

They don’t expect to be thanked—just not being complained about is enough.

“I’d drill two burr holes in the head to drain the fluid, repair the ruptured vessels, then do an endoscopic procedure into the left abdominal cavity to fix the spleen and check the pancreas. If the pancreas is damaged, I could take care of it right then and there.”

Imaging doesn’t catch everything.

Laparoscopic surgery is a common way to explore the abdominal cavity in modern medicine.

Some tumors are too small for regular equipment to detect.

Exploratory surgery often yields the best results in those situations.

After hearing this, Chief Xiang nodded.

Holding the sketch Zhou Can made to illustrate his method, he gave him a thoughtful look. “Seems like you’re pretty skilled at endoscopic surgery, Dr. Zhou!”

“I’d say I’m decent at it.”

This time, Zhou Can didn’t downplay his skills—truth was, he was really eager to save Deputy Director Lu himself.

If the Provincial People’s Hospital didn’t have a surgeon this good, Zhou Can was more than ready to step in.

“Would you mind leaving a contact number? I can discuss your emergency plan with the other departments and report it to hospital management. If they go with your approach, you might even be invited to join the surgery.”

Chief Xiang told him.

“Saving lives can’t wait. I can stick around at the Provincial People’s Hospital—if we delay too long, even a successful surgery won’t mean much.”

This was Zhou Can’s first real interaction with the Provincial People’s Hospital.

He honestly had no idea whether their leadership was bureaucratic or not.

If the administration was buried in red tape, even with nearly an hour left, nothing would get decided—let alone if time was even tighter.