Chapter 91: The Three Surgical Styles

“So, are you planning to adopt the Rapid Surgical Technique as your method?” Dr. Xu turned and fixed his gaze on him.

Last time, he had asked Zhou Can once, but Zhou Can still hadn’t made up his mind.

This time, his proactive inquiry about mastering the Rapid Surgical Technique rekindled Dr. Xu’s hope.

He was desperate for Zhou Can to become his protégé in the Rapid Surgical Technique.

“Hmm… I haven’t decided yet! But it wouldn’t hurt to learn about the pros and cons of your Rapid Surgical Technique compared to Director Hu’s ‘Most Stable Scalpel’,” Zhou Can replied with an awkward smile.

“You little fellow, shopping around, huh! Fine, I’ll explain the different surgical styles and their respective advantages and shortcomings.”

Dr. Xu couldn’t help but shake his head with a laugh and a scold.

“The three most common surgical styles are stability, precision, and speed. Director Hu’s style is all about stability – he can handle almost any surgery smoothly, as steady as they come. However, because he prioritizes stability, his speed will never be fast. It can, to some extent, blend with precision, but it will never achieve that flawless fine detail.”

The primary hallmark of stability is reliability – ensuring the surgery is completed safely and smoothly.

Yet, because it can’t be fast or reach ultimate precision, it’s inherently unsuitable for procedures that must be performed quickly or require extremely meticulous excision or separation.

This is one of the reasons why Director Hu’s reputation doesn’t match that of Wu Baihe.

For many complex, high-precision surgeries, he simply cannot be the lead surgeon.

Either the surgery is abandoned or someone else takes the lead.

Merely assisting in the operation makes one akin to a supporting actor in a film. Naturally, their fame can never equal that of the lead.

People only remember the lead, after all.

Of course, there are rare occasions when a supporting role gets its moment to shine, even surpassing the lead.

In the medical field, with its rigid hierarchy and protocols, a mere assistant will hardly ever outshine the lead surgeon.

This is probably an unspoken anguish in Director Hu’s heart.

Once he commits to a stable style, he’s destined to remain that way and can’t shine like Wu Baihe or Dr. Xu, who are celebrated by all.

“Now, let me talk about my ‘Speed’ style. In the martial world, there’s a saying: ‘Of all martial skills, only speed is unbreakable.’ Surgery is much the same. When your speed reaches its peak, it might seem like you’ve sacrificed stability, but that very speed can carry its own stability. For instance, a rapid slice might only result in a slight miscut or an overcut, yet you hardly have to worry about tremors or hesitations.”

And it really is that way.

Based on the principles of kinetic and potential energy, when speed is pushed to the extreme, the incision naturally follows a straight path instead of a wavering line.

Surgery times can be dramatically reduced, eliminating the need for hours of hyper-focused concentration.

Sometimes it can be done in as little as half an hour or one to two hours.

Every surgical style has its own set of advantages and disadvantages.

Just like people – no one is perfect.

“The downside to speed is the loss of complete control. It’s all too easy to have your hands act quicker than your brain. Besides, if you have any reservations in your mind, you can never reach that ultimate speed. It takes extensive practice to master the push and pull. Even then, it’s not foolproof. Over the years, I’ve pondered countless reasons behind mishaps, and I believe that maintaining a calm mindset can curb the nervous haste brought on by pursuing extreme speed – effectively adding a double layer of safety so that the chance of error is virtually zero.”

Dr. Xu’s words were laced with an almost fanatical confidence, visible in every expression and glance.

Mistakes like a hand moving too quickly and cutting the wrong organ or over-cutting are common in surgeries – and who better than Dr. Xu to speak on this?

“I believe your mentor’s philosophy is correct,”

Others might doubt it, but Zhou Can believed it wholeheartedly.

It wasn’t blind worship; it was a judgement made from the subtle clues in Dr. Xu’s words and actions.

“Thank you!”

Dr. Xu looked deeply at Zhou Can. Their eyes met, and Dr. Xu felt as if he had finally found a kindred spirit.

Perhaps, after his downfall and the subsequent permanent loss of status, every word he spoke was dismissed as that of a failure.

Unrecognized, unappreciated.

So when someone sincerely acknowledged his views, Dr. Xu was moved to the point of thanking his apprentice.

It was the first time his mentor had been so courteous to him.

This made Zhou Can feel somewhat uneasy.

Excessive politeness can sometimes come off as distant.

He preferred the strictness of the stern Dr. Xu.

“Now, let’s talk about the third surgical style – precision. In neurosurgery, Wu Baihe has nearly reached the pinnacle of this art.”

Zhou Can noted that his mentor used a term that nearly meant ‘pinnacle.’

This implied that while Wu Baihe was highly skilled in precision, he hadn’t achieved absolute perfection – just a remarkably high level of mastery.

“Precision means both accuracy and delicacy. Whether it’s operating near the brainstem, peeling away a tumor from the coronary artery, or anastomosing nerves or delicate blood vessels – he can perform exactly as intended. He dares to do the dangerous surgeries that other doctors wouldn’t even attempt. That’s his edge. Over the years, Wu Baihe has successfully completed at least a hundred extremely difficult procedures.”

“Although there is an inherent failure rate, he has still accomplished many surgeries that head surgeons deem taboo.”

Among the three styles – stable, speedy, and precise – the ability to perform precisely is arguably the most impressive.

Especially when it comes to building a reputation – it is the ultimate trump card.

Take for instance a tumor growing near the brainstem – no one dares to operate.

Other hospitals quickly condemn such patients to death, recommending conservative treatment.

But using his precise surgical skills, Wu Baihe removed the tumor, saving and eventually curing the patient.

Tuyu Hospital was quick to boast that its Neurosurgery Department, led by the renowned Wu Baihe, had successfully treated a high-risk patient with a tumor in the so-called ‘forbidden zone’ of life.

This so-called ‘forbidden zone’ is the human life center – an area that the medical community universally considers untouchable. A tumor here is essentially a death sentence…

With such publicity, the average person couldn’t help but be impressed.

It naturally led everyone to believe that the skills of Tuyu Hospital’s neurosurgeons were the best in the world. For any related ailment, they’d know exactly where to go – because it housed the most authoritative doctors.

This is the so-called ‘celebrity doctor effect.’

Just Wu Baihe alone attracts countless patients seeking his expertise.

Even doctors from other hospitals, when faced with a patient needing surgery near the brainstem that they couldn’t handle, would advise that if the patient and their family were wise, they should seek out Tuyu’s neurosurgery.

“Now, let me mention the downsides of precision. I personally believe that as long as one is human, emotions and attachments come into play, which means those who follow the precise surgical style can never achieve absolute perfection. After all, if we can’t even control our own arms with superhuman accuracy, how can we expect to wield a scalpel or other instruments perfectly?”

The human body is incredibly complex. If the cerebellum’s motor commands are implemented 95% accurately, that’s already exceptional.

In fact, for unfamiliar motor commands, the body might only execute about 60% correctly.

To put it simply, watching someone ride a bicycle involves sitting on the saddle, pedaling hard, and gripping the handlebars to steer.

When we try it, following the cerebellum’s directions exactly,

the result can be a fall with a couple of lost teeth and a bruised, battered face.

“Damn it, how do they do it so smoothly? Why is it that when I try, I always end up falling?”

This is just one example of the body’s imperfect execution of the cerebellum’s commands.

Our brain merely captures the riding posture visually, processes it, and sends the command to the cerebellum, which then issues the motor command.

But it neglects the aspect of balance.

Only after countless falls do we finally grasp the balance needed to ride effortlessly.

Similarly, performing surgery with a scalpel or other instruments follows the same principle.

Various factors – your mental state, thoughts, sense of balance, and tactile feedback – can prevent your hands from achieving the precise movements your brain intends.

After listening to the detailed explanation of the three common surgical styles, Zhou Can fell into deep thought.

Every surgical approach has its pros and cons.

Choosing the best one wasn’t an easy decision.

“Teacher, is it possible to combine two of these surgical styles at the same time?”

Zhou Can asked.

“It’s not feasible. Numerous seniors have tried, and none have succeeded. Initially, the differences among the three styles aren’t obvious, but as you advance, the conflicts become more pronounced. In the end, they become mutually exclusive, forcing you to adopt just one style.”

As a seasoned veteran, Dr. Xu’s assertion carried weight.

You can’t have your cake and eat it too.

“Of course, you’re still building your foundation. It’s worthwhile to practice the basics of all three styles. While they can’t be fully merged, they do influence one another. For example, my speedy style relies on both precision and stability. You can also practice techniques like Director Hu’s method of pinching the hair and raising the arm – all of which are beneficial.”

Dr. Xu surprisingly didn’t rush Zhou Can to pick one style.

Instead, he instructed him to practice the basic techniques of all three.

“So, how do you practice the basics of the Rapid Surgical Technique?”

Zhou Can inquired humbly.

It seemed that after work, besides practicing on white mice, there would now be plenty of tasks to carry out.

Such advanced surgical training methods can only be learned in a major hospital like Tuyu.

Jin Mingxi’s ears perked up.

He was determined not to miss a single word from Dr. Xu.

Seizing this learning opportunity, he was keen to benefit from Zhou Can’s chance as well.

Normally, Dr. Xu wouldn’t share these methods with just anyone.

“The basic training for the Rapid Surgical Technique involves several steps. To begin with, you practice by slicing carrots. There are two requirements – the faster you are, the better, and every slice must be of uniform thickness. This simultaneously trains speed and precision.”

It turned out that carrots, besides being used for practicing suturing and carving, had yet another unique purpose.

Zhou Can couldn’t help but think this was akin to training like a chef – starting with mastering knife skills.

“When you practice slicing carrots, you should train both your left and right hands. Many surgeries require dominant left-hand operation. Moreover, the left hand is often more agile than the right.”

Dr. Xu added another requirement.

Zhou Can was already somewhat aware of the need for the left hand to be more agile.

This secret was known only among medical practitioners.

Many believe that the right hand is not only stronger but also more dexterous than the left – this is a misconception.

The right hand is stronger simply because our lifestyle gives it more opportunities to handle heavy objects, and it’s used more frequently for tasks such as writing, using chopsticks, or playing sports… The more the right hand is used, the more our body becomes dependent on it.

Eventually, this creates a vicious cycle: right-hand dominant, left-hand auxiliary.

But in medicine, it’s not so.

The left hand is controlled by the right brain, while the right hand is governed by the left brain.

The two hemispheres of the brain have distinct functions.

The left brain dictates logical thinking – the rational side – while the right brain is inclined toward artistic, emotional insights.

The brain’s hemispheres operate in a cooperative partnership.

The left hemisphere handles language and logic, whereas the right takes on tasks that elude straightforward description, substituting imagery for words.

Research has found that the right brain houses vital instincts, the autonomic nervous system, as well as our moral, ethical, and cosmic understandings.

Conversely, the left brain stores a lifetime’s worth of information.

The right brain is more creative, while the left functions like a meticulously programmed computer, mechanically processing various commands.

Thus, the left hand – controlled by the right brain – is inherently more agile than the right hand, which is governed by the left.

It’s just that most people rarely train that side.

“After work today, I’m off to the market to buy some carrots and practice the Rapid Surgical Technique,”

Zhou Can could hardly wait to start practicing.

This foundational surgical skill, imbued with a strong personal style, can’t be augmented by any experience system.

It can only be honed through repeated practice.

“I’m coming too! Let’s go together after work!”

Jin Mingxi piped up.

It seemed he had set his sights squarely on keeping pace with Zhou Can.

“Jin Mingxi, I’ve reviewed your surgical skills and overall aptitude. I believe your basic proficiency for the Rapid Surgical Technique is acceptable, but the style itself isn’t suitable for you,”

Dr. Xu’s words fell like a bucket of cold water on Jin Mingxi.

“Why? Isn’t Zhou Can also training in the Rapid Surgical Technique?”

Now facing a huge gap from Zhou Can, Jin Mingxi felt the pressure mount.

Hearing Dr. Xu say he wasn’t suited for the Rapid Surgical Technique was a heavy blow.

“First of all, you lack the calm composure that Xiao Zhou possesses. Secondly, you have an old-soul cautiousness that makes you overly careful and measured during surgeries. I suggest you adopt either the stable or the precise style.”

No two people – or leaves – are identical. Individual differences in temperament, mindset, character, and even physical habits all play a role.

As for appearance, that’s hardly the most important factor.

“Mingxi, I think our teacher is spot on – the best style is the one that suits you.”

Zhou Can, standing by his side, also advised him.

Having worked together for so long, their bond had grown, and Zhou Can addressed him in a more familiar tone.

“Alright then, I’ll listen to you,” declared Jin Mingxi, a man of thirty-five with plenty of life experience. It was clear that Zhou Can and Dr. Xu genuinely had his best interests at heart.

“Dr. Xu, which style do you think suits me better – precision or stability?”

With his future at stake and the fear of taking the wrong path, he couldn’t afford any delays.

At this stage in life, besides family, love, and friendship, time and energy were his most precious assets.

“It’s hard for me to say which style fits you exactly. Train with Zhou Can in slicing carrots for now, build your foundation, and I’ll observe. When the time comes, I’ll give you a more candid evaluation. Perhaps by then, you’ll be able to decide for yourself.”

Dr. Xu thought for a moment before speaking earnestly.

“Alright! Thank you!”

This time, Jin Mingxi wasn’t rattled.

The three returned to the Emergency Department. Dr. Xu had Zhou Can and Jin Mingxi head for the Operating Room, while he went to greet the on-duty doctors, instructing them to admit some challenging Level 1 and 2 surgeries when possible.

Today, Chief Surgeon Xie had been reined in at the morning meeting by Director Lou’s succinct reprimands.

Dr. Xu was determined to seize this opportunity to give his protégés more challenging cases.

He had noticed Zhou Can’s rapid progress.

Zhou Can had already acquired a preliminary proficiency in suturing, ligature, incision, hemostasis, and tissue separation – even surpassing some senior residents in specialized fields.

Increasing the difficulty of surgeries was absolutely necessary.

Yet Dr. Xu found the matter somewhat mischievous.

After all, Zhou Can’s pace of advancement was nearly terrifying.

In the end, he attributed it to Zhou Can’s exceptional insight, his own careful guidance, and the sheer volume of two to three dozen surgeries a day.

……

Inside the Operating Room, Zhou Can had changed into his surgical gown and was waiting for the instrument nurse to join him.

He felt a surge of nervous energy.

What he dreaded most was the appearance of Nurse Tian Tian.

But since the Emergency Department had only a few backup instrument nurses, he had little choice.

The ideal scenario was for both Nurse Tian Tian and Qiao Yu to show up together.

After all, Qiao Yu always volunteered to work with Zhou Can, leaving no one to compete with him.

The instrument nurse for Dr. Xu was Liu Xia, who had been preparing in the OR well in advance.

At that moment, a graceful figure stepped into the Operating Room.

Zhou Can’s eyes brightened and a joyful smile spread across his face. His luck had turned – today, it was finally Qiao Yu’s early shift.

It had been at least a week since he’d last teamed up with Qiao Yu in surgery.

She was usually on night or late shifts.

After work yesterday, Zhou Can had even messaged her on WeChat,

“Qiao Yu, do you have something against me? I haven’t seen you as my instrument nurse in a long time.”

She initially replied with an emoticon that looked on the verge of tears.

Then she explained that the nurse scheduling wasn’t up to her – many of the sisters wanted the early shift, and being a newcomer with little seniority, she couldn’t outcompete them.

To Zhou Can’s surprise, the very message he sent yesterday brought her in today.

For Zhou Can, it was an unexpected delight.

Now that all four of his basic medical skills had reached an attending level, all he needed was more experience with challenging Level 1 and 2 surgeries to elevate his standing in the OR.

If he earned Dr. Xu’s trust by independently performing over fifteen Level 1 or even more Level 2 surgeries a day, he could then request a dedicated instrument nurse from Director Lou.

Once he started bringing in revenue for the Emergency Department, Director Lou would likely agree.

And when choosing his permanent instrument nurse, he would definitely do everything in his power to pick Qiao Yu.

Seeing Dr. Xu’s supportive attitude, Zhou Can was confident that anything beneficial to his surgical progress would receive full backing.

Thus, the likelihood of success was extremely high.

Still, haste makes waste – for now, his focus was on performing a large number of difficult Level 1 surgeries and attempting some moderately challenging Level 2 operations. Step by steady step, he aimed to be ready for independent Level 1 and 2 surgeries as soon as possible.

With his learning ability and current skills, it should take no more than three or four months.

Securing Qiao Yu as his dedicated instrument nurse was just his first step. He had even grander plans ahead.

He intended to achieve some brilliant results,

so that Director Lou would know he hadn’t made a mistake in choosing him.