Chapter 132: The Long Road of Care and Chance

From her account, it was clear that this ordinary, broad-shouldered woman must be living solely with her grandmother.

If she had any other family, she wouldn’t have come to Tuyu Hospital on her own with a broken arm.

“Registered?”

Zhou Can felt deep sympathy for the woman.

Hospitals often see people from society’s underbelly.

Within their means, most doctors and nurses offer these people a bit of extra care.

“I’ve already registered and am waiting for my number! I don’t know why I fainted!”

She tried to sit up as she spoke.

“Don’t move, just stay still! With broken ribs, even a small movement could puncture your heart or lungs or worsen your fracture.” Zhou Can quickly held her shoulder down.

He signaled for her to lie back down.

Her collapse was due to her injuries—severe energy loss compounded by long hours without food causing hypoglycemia.

“Which side of your rib is injured? Does it hurt a lot now?”

“Right here. I got hit by a wild boar.”

She mustered the strength to lift her left hand and pointed to the upper left side of her abdomen.

Hearing that, Zhou Can immediately understood her situation.

“How long ago did you get hurt?”

“Yesterday morning. After I fled home, I went to a town clinic. Seeing how serious my injury was, they insisted I go to a big hospital, so I spent nearly a day traveling to Tuyu Hospital.”

The injury was still fairly recent.

If more than half a month had passed, bone callus would have formed, making surgery extremely difficult.

Generally, if a fracture is over a month old, many doctors would opt out of operating.

The operation would be more difficult and its results less promising.

For someone with such a severe injury to travel to the provincial capital on her own was remarkable.

Judging by her modest attire, a taxi was unlikely; she must have taken a long-distance bus or crowded public transit.

Her determination was truly admirable.

Had she been a more delicate lady, a broken arm and even two fractured ribs might have knocked her out cold from the start.

“I think I can sit up—I’m fine!”

She forced herself to use her waist once more.

Zhou Can carefully helped her up from the floor and seated her in a chair.

At that moment, a nurse arrived with a meal.

“I got you some fast food—it cost 15 yuan!”

She returned the extra money to Zhou Can.

“Thank you for your help!”

Zhou Can accepted the meal and opened it.

He looked toward the nurse.

“Her broken arm must make eating really difficult. Would you mind feeding her?”

The nurse frowned, her face betraying a hint of reluctance.

Feeding a patient isn’t really a nurse’s job—the kind of gentle care you see on TV doesn’t often happen in reality.

In real life, a nurse simply speaking kindly to patients and their families is already something special.

Often, nurses can be quite stern and are quick with a sharp response.

Especially outpatient nurses—there’s little chance to see one who is easily pushed around.

“Sorry, I’ve got something else to take care of here!”

The nurse made an excuse and left.

Left with no choice, Zhou Can had to feed the woman himself.

“I can eat on my own,” she insisted as she grabbed her chopsticks with her left hand.

Zhou Can held her food container, bringing it as close as possible to her mouth.

Perhaps she was just starving.

The woman quickly finished her meal.

Zhou Can then rushed over to pour her a cup of water.

After eating, she visibly seemed much better.

“Let me see your registration slip.”

Noticing she had no family with her, Zhou Can decided to help this unfortunate woman.

After all, he had nothing else to do at the moment.

It was as good as performing a kind deed.

“The attending outpatient doctor is Dr. Chi,” he noted, rubbing his nose in thought.

He was well aware that the roles in outpatient and inpatient departments were very different.

Many mistakenly think any doctor can see outpatients—but that’s far from the truth.

Not to mention a top hospital like Tuyu, where the qualifications for outpatient doctors are extremely high.

At Tuyu Hospital, doctors who wish to attend outpatient clinics are usually already at the level of attending physician.

For deputy directors or higher, the chance is even greater.

As for inpatient doctors handling outpatients, that’s nearly unheard of—only a few exceptionally talented individuals, with either outstanding academic credentials or superior surgical skills, are recommended by department heads.

Even then, approval isn’t guaranteed; it’s just a possibility to get a personal outpatient number.

In that regard, the road to a doctor’s career is long indeed.

And the income disparities are staggering.

In the same hospital, a less remarkable chief resident might earn around 150,000 a year, while an exceptional one could earn over 600,000.

Tuyu Hospital doctors earn through base salary, quarterly bonuses, holiday allowances, year-end performance, research awards, and workload—all legitimate sources of income.

Combined, many deputy-level and above doctors earn over a million before tax.

Zhou Can, however, only received a meager base salary plus a bit of overtime.

Once he gets his training completion certificate and medical practitioner license and is hired as an inpatient doctor, he’ll start earning bonuses and performance pay.

“Sit here for a moment; I’ll check if we can expedite your examination,” he said.

Zhou Can asked the woman to wait.

Given her severe injuries and unfamiliarity with the process, getting her tests done by tomorrow would be nothing short of a miracle.

Helping her felt like an accumulation of goodwill.

Holding her registration slip and medical record book, Zhou Can headed straight to Room 2014 of the Outpatient Department.

The door was closed.

Inside, a patient was being seen while about a dozen others waited outside—likely with early registration numbers.

Once the patient finished, he rushed in.

The other patients, noticing his white coat and identifying him as a doctor, didn’t object.

“Dr. Chi, sorry to bother you,” Zhou Can said, preparing for a possible refusal.

After all, with Director Xie pressuring him, other doctors might show a frosty demeanor, unwilling to help.

“Ah, Dr. Zhou! What’s the matter? Just go ahead,” Dr. Chi replied.

Dr. Chi’s friendly tone warmed Zhou Can’s heart a bit.

In truth, the two had only really met during surgeries or case discussions.

“This patient just fainted outside. She has fractures in her arm and ribs—a mountain woman without any family. Could you let her jump the queue for a quick diagnosis?”

Zhou Can’s voice wavered with apprehension.

Asking for help felt as daunting as swallowing a sword.

At a time when his own position was precarious, requesting special treatment for this patient was a huge risk.

“Call her in right away; she needn’t wait for her number,” Dr. Chi ordered.

Dr. Chi agreed readily, much to Zhou Can’s gratitude.

“Hurry up! Being in the outpatient clinic, there are plenty of learning opportunities—like in the manual reduction room,” he added.

Inside, aside from Zhou Can and Dr. Chi, there was one patient with two family members.

Dr. Chi made some vague remarks, suggesting he already knew about Zhou Can’s situation.

“I’m not familiar with the doctors in the manual reduction room!”

Zhou Can had considered that possibility.

His bone-setting skills needed practice, yet why would the doctors in that room offer him a chance?

“You’ll understand once you go in. Today, on duty is Dr. Fu Zhian. He was once a student of Chief Resident Shen—half of our team, you might say,” Dr. Chi explained with a wink that carried a hint of mystery.

Zhou Can immediately grasped the hidden meaning.

Director Xie wanted subordinate departments to suppress him, to keep this rising talent in check. But people are not without compassion.

They outwardly follow Director Xie’s orders, yet discreetly offer him small favors, hoping for future repayment in times of need.

They took that risk primarily because Zhou Can’s potential was truly astonishing.

Potential is intangible—an invaluable asset in relationships, much like an orphaned, brilliant child who always tops the class. Who wouldn’t want to help such a child?

Conversely, a troublesome, unruly kid would be avoided at all costs.

In his little over two months in Orthopedics training, Zhou Can had shown incredible potential and impeccable character.

Chief Resident Shen, Dr. Shan, and Dr. Chi all favored this trainee.

The other attending physicians in his group had no reason to dislike him.

Since the manual reduction room doctors specialize in bone and joint injuries, it made sense when Dr. Chi said that Dr. Fu Zhian was only ‘half a doctor’ in their team.

Zhou Can then led the woman into Dr. Chi’s consultation room.

After a brief physical exam, Dr. Chi ordered standard tests—blood routine and X-rays.

Some hospitals have revenue targets or testing quotas, so doctors tend to order excessive tests.

Regardless of whether you’re seriously ill or not, the routine is followed.

Patients aren’t fools; even though she was vulnerable, she might avoid this hospital next time if over-tested.

Over-treatment is a common phenomenon worldwide.

In developed countries, uninsured patients are so afraid of hospitals that even minor illnesses can lead to financial ruin.

And that isn’t an exaggeration.

In those countries, consumption habits differ from here—they tend to spend in advance, leaving ordinary families with little savings. A slightly severe illness can bankrupt them.

Of course, developed countries also have well-established healthcare systems with high reimbursement rates.

That’s why people there fear unemployment so much—losing a job might mean no money and the loss of insurance.

It’s a truly dreadful prospect.

Zhou Can then helped the woman pay for her tests, guided her to get her blood drawn, and queued with her for the X-ray.

As a trainee, all he could really do was make a call on her behalf in the outpatient department; pushing for extra favors was unrealistic.

Sometimes, you just have to wait patiently.

“Miss Wei, is it just you and your grandmother at home?”

Zhou Can engaged her in small talk.

“Yes! My parents divorced when I was very young. My dad, while gathering firewood when I was five, fell off a cliff. The family was so poor that he died the day after we brought him home. It was my grandmother who raised me on her own.”

No wonder she was so deeply attached to her grandmother.

As the saying goes, misfortune targets the unfortunate; calamity spares no one.

This woman’s name is Wei Fang—a child who, orphaned early, has lived a life full of hardship.

“What do you usually do to make money at home? Pick wild mushrooms and herbs?”

“Yes!”

She didn’t say much, perhaps because of her rib injury.

Generally, when a rib is fractured or injured, coughing or talking exacerbates the pain.

Yet so far, she hadn’t even managed a groan or a cry of pain.

Zhou Can suspected that her right arm fracture was also quite serious.

The state of her ribs would only be clear after the X-ray results came in.

“Picking wild mushrooms and herbs probably doesn’t earn much, does it?”

Zhou Can asked.

“If I’m lucky, I can earn two to three thousand a year,” she replied shyly, mentioning an income shockingly low.

That averages to less than 300 a month.

And that was only with good fortune.

“Have you never considered working in the city? Even factory work would net you at least three or four thousand a month.”

“My grandmother is old and needs constant care. I wouldn’t feel comfortable leaving her alone.”

Zhou Can understood her reasons.

People from the mountains are often simple and sincere.

They place immense value on family ties.

Especially the debt of care owed to one’s parents—a love considered immeasurable.

Wei Fang had essentially been raised solely by her grandmother, and their bond was profound.

That’s why she was reluctant to leave her for city work.

“With the extent of your injuries, you’ll need at least two to three months to recover. What will you do during this time?”

“I… I don’t know. I plan to have surgery and stay in the hospital for a while, then once my condition stabilizes, return home to recuperate,” she answered after a moment’s thought.

Zhou Can nodded, saying nothing more.

About an hour later, her test results came in.

She had four fractured ribs, two of which were completely detached—a terrifying injury.

Based on his medical knowledge, Zhou Can knew she not only needed hospitalization but also likely open-chest surgery to reattach and internally fix the broken ribs.

Without surgery, the detached ribs could puncture her organs.

Even the slightest contact with her lung could trigger severe coughing, pneumonia, or fluid buildup.

Moreover, if the detached ribs aren’t surgically fixed, they might heal improperly, affecting her for life.

A look at the X-ray of her right arm revealed a severe fracture in the humerus.

The fracture line was clear; this too required surgery.

Simply applying a cast would yield poor results and might even lead to permanent disability.

“Dr. Zhou, is my condition really that bad?”

The woman was not naïve.

When Zhou Can printed her X-rays using her ID at the self-service machine, she noticed his face had turned grim.

“Your injuries are severe. You have four broken ribs, two of which are detached, and both your ulna and radius in your right arm are fractured. Dr. Chi will explain the treatment plan. Although the outcome isn’t ideal, you’re fortunate to have survived an attack by that wild boar.”

That was the only comfort he could offer her.

Mountain folk have long spoken of the perils of a wild boar, a bear, and a tiger.

An adult wild boar is fearsome in battle.

Its long tusks, like daggers, and its snout, with a single swing, can hurl a person several meters away.

A head-on charge can even splinter trees as thick as a bowl.

Zhou Can then led her to Dr. Chi’s consultation room and left.

That was about the extent of the help available.

Instinctively, he made his way toward the manual reduction room.

He hoped that if Dr. Chi’s words were true, a learning opportunity in the manual reduction room would be fantastic.

The manual reduction room was located in the waiting area of the Orthopedics Department.

Outside, a sparse group of a dozen patients and family members had gathered.

From within, the sound of a child’s loud crying could be heard.

Without anesthesia, the pain during manual reduction often becomes unbearable for patients.

Zhou Can squeezed in and saw a chubby boy of about eleven or twelve, roughly 1.6 meters tall.

These days, children are well-nourished and develop early.

A female nurse, the boy’s mother, and a young male doctor all struggled to restrain him.

There was also a middle-aged doctor with graying hair, probably in his forties.

He was performing a manual reduction on the boy’s shoulder joint.

For many boys, not having their shoulder dislocate once or twice would be a disservice to their childhood mischief.

Seeing an opportunity, Zhou Can quickly stepped forward and helped hold the boy down.

His strength far surpassed that of the nurse and the boy’s mother combined.

Even the young doctor paled in comparison.

With his firm hold, the frantically struggling boy was soon completely restrained.

The middle-aged doctor, unable to proceed due to the boy’s resistance, glanced over at Zhou Can.

“You’ve got some serious strength! Finally pinned that little cub down!”

The middle-aged doctor, clearly aware of his identity, smiled and praised him.

“May I ask, are you Dr. Fu?” Zhou Can took the opportunity to inquire.

“Yes, I am Fu Zhian! I essentially manage the manual reduction room,” the doctor replied.

The middle-aged doctor nodded in acknowledgment.

His tone and manner remained friendly.

“I’m Zhou Can, recently transferred here for training in the outpatient department. I look forward to learning from you, Dr. Fu,” Zhou Can said, putting forth his confident charm.

Opportunities should be seized.

“Sure thing! If you have time, feel free to come help. Sometimes unruly minors don’t cooperate, and that’s when a strong assistant like you is needed,” Dr. Fu replied readily.

Without a hint of hesitation, he affirmed his willingness to help.

Just as Dr. Chi had said, as soon as Zhou Can arrived, support was there for him.