Chapter 144: Crisis in the Operating Room

At this moment, even a fool could see that Director Wen, hailed as the best in their eyes, had run into a major problem.

The patient’s aneurysm had an extremely narrow neck, making it impossible for the spring coil to be precisely placed; the inflexibility of the catheter had severely compromised the procedure.

With students and doctors from other departments watching, Director Wen found himself in an inextricable situation.

People value their reputation above all.

Sometimes, burdened by empty accolades, one will do unthinkable things to preserve face and authority.

Gritting his teeth, Director Wen decided to take a bigger risk.

He directly released the spring coil from the catheter.

This special spring coil, once in the target vessel, was connected to a direct current; it attracted negatively charged blood components – red cells, white cells, platelets, etc. – causing them to coagulate.

Eventually, a thrombus formed inside the aneurysm.

At the same time, the portion connecting the spring coil to the stainless-steel guidewire was dissolved by electrolysis, leaving the coil secured within the aneurysm.

The coil was neither delivered to the ideal target nor correctly positioned – it had been forcefully released.

The result was that the coil failed to perform its intended function.

It must be remembered that the patient’s aneurysm had already ruptured and was actively bleeding.

The bleeding had to be completely halted.

This required multiple spring coils to be implanted.

But if the first one wasn’t placed correctly, how could the rest be managed?

Director Wen’s solution was simple: if it didn’t go well, adjust the coil’s position repeatedly.

The Gdc spring coil was extremely flexible. Once released into the aneurysm, it could be maneuvered easily; if its placement was unsatisfactory, it could be repositioned.

In general, this rarely led to occlusion of the supplying artery.

So he kept adjusting, hoping for a better outcome.

Unfortunately, the more he adjusted, the worse it got. Director Wen was at his wit’s end.

“Today is simply cursed. Why won’t this spring coil obey me at all?”

Director Wen’s tone was remarkably measured.

If it had been a hot-tempered chief surgeon, he likely would have started cursing right then.

“Director Wen, why don’t you take a breather and let me try for a bit?”

Dr. Zou, the attending physician, volunteered to take over.

He stepped in to alleviate Director Wen’s burden.

“You must be exhausted after two surgeries today. You hold on while I go take a breather.”

Taking advantage of the moment, Director Wen stepped aside at just the right time.

However, when Dr. Zou took over, the situation did not immediately improve.

After all, this required true skill.

Now that the spring coil had been released from the catheter, the procedure had become even more challenging.

Within minutes, Dr. Zou was drenched in sweat.

Half from fatigue, half from anxiety.

With his repeated mishandling, the patient’s intracranial bleeding continued unabated – how could he not be anxious?

Then, suddenly, the patient’s body began to tremble.

Moments later, the life-monitoring equipment began emitting shrill alarms.

“This is bad. The patient’s blood pressure is falling rapidly, her heart rate is speeding up, and the brain waves are all abnormal!”

The anesthesiologist, who had been resting against the wall, kept glancing at the monitor.

Under normal circumstances, a brain aneurysm intervention carried minimal risk.

Who would have thought that Director Wen and his students would leave the patient in such a state?

“What’s going on?”

Director Wen hurried over to inspect the situation.

“It’s probably because the spring coil wasn’t properly placed. The repeated adjustments have only worsened the bleeding,”

the experienced anesthesiologist explained after checking.

“I—I didn’t really mess things up!”

Dr. Zou felt deeply aggrieved.

Wasn’t interventional surgery supposed to be almost risk-free?

The most dangerous catheter puncture had already been done.

Implanting the spring coil was supposed to be relatively safe, yet in just a few minutes, the patient’s condition had deteriorated dramatically.

What utter misfortune.

“If we can’t deploy the spring coil in time to stop the bleeding, the patient may never make it off the operating table.”

The anesthesiologist seethed more than anyone.

In this situation, he had no rescue plan.

With intracranial bleeding, the only option was to stop the hemorrhage altogether.

“You useless imbecile! Get out!”

Director Wen’s gaze had turned ice-cold.

Even beneath his mask, his expression was now extremely grim.

He unleashed some of the harshest words toward Dr. Zou.

His desperation was genuine.

A failed procedure and the death of a patient were worlds apart.

The consequences were beyond what he could bear.

“The patient had been bleeding for over an hour before entering the operating room. Now, because of Dr. Zou’s errors, the bleeding has worsened. Craniotomy rescue is no longer viable. Our only option is to implant all the spring coils as quickly as possible to sever the aneurysm’s blood supply.”

Zhou Can could no longer stand by and watch the patient die or be turned into a vegetable.

In his effort to save the patient, he had already sacrificed much of his own strength.

With Wu Baihe unable to arrive, Director Wen’s capability was limited.

At this moment, it seemed that only a humble trainee like Zhou Can could turn the tide and perform a miracle.

“This isn’t your place to speak, everyone understands the reasoning,”

Dr. Zou snapped coldly.

Zhou Can had just been blamed for worsening the bleeding through his error.

It was the truth.

Yet the words stung, leaving him feeling very uncomfortable.

“I’ve performed implantation procedures before. Director Wen, won’t you let me try? It won’t take long—just thirty seconds.”

Zhou Can was relentless with his bold words.

While Director Wen had been struggling with the spring coil for nearly half an hour, Dr. Zou had managed nothing in seven or eight minutes – only aggravating the bleeding.

For a young trainee with such a tight face, to claim that thirty seconds would suffice was audacious.

“Do you have any idea what you’re saying?”

Director Wen scrutinized Zhou Can with a cold stare.

It was the first time he had really looked at this trainee.

Given his status, not only would a trainee’s name be unworthy of mention, but even an ordinary resident wouldn’t merit remembrance.

“I’m telling you—give me thirty seconds and I can solve the spring coil placement issue.”

Zhou Can’s clear eyes and resolute tone exuded confidence.

It was a display of supreme self-assurance.

“Xiao Zhou, don’t overdo it,”

Dr. Ou gently pulled him back.

The kid didn’t know his limits. The patient was on the verge of death; if he took over now, he’d undoubtedly be the scapegoat.

Hospitals are never the pristine sanctuaries they’re imagined to be.

Beneath the veneer of sanctity lurks too much filth and vice.

“If we don’t save this patient, he’s as good as dead. I can’t afford to consider personal gains right now,”

Zhou Can said gratefully to Dr. Ou.

Then, he looked back at Director Wen again.

If the chief surgeon didn’t agree, he wouldn’t get the chance to operate.

“Seeing how confident you are, I can’t refuse you any longer. Let’s do it. We’re already at the worst possible; it can’t get much worse,” Director Wen surprisingly consented.

Zhou Can didn’t care about the implications—as long as he was given the chance.

He hastily strode to the operating table, taking the optimal position while deftly handling the fine guidewire.

Before anyone could catch a proper look, he immediately stopped his manipulation.

“Done!”

He announced calmly.

Having observed Director Wen and Dr. Zou earlier, he was confident he could handle it.

No sooner had he taken over than he successfully positioned the spring coil at the target site.

The entire procedure took only six seconds.

It could have been even faster, but it was his first formal attempt.

“Is that it?”

Director Wen’s eyes nearly popped out.

“Wow, it seems the trainee really did get it right!”

The female attending exclaimed in astonishment.

“Only five or six seconds?” Dr. Zou, having personally attempted the task and knowing its difficulty, was shocked.

Not five or six seconds—but even taking fifty to sixty minutes to properly place the spring coil would be considered remarkable.

The three graduate students and two residents were utterly amazed today.

A surgery task that Director Wen couldn’t handle or even Dr. Zou failed, was effortlessly managed by a trainee.

Was this the legendary underdog demolishing the martial arts master?

Or akin to a pig that refuses to swallow inferior scraps, only feasting on the best?

Director Wen stared at the screen over and over—at least ten times—until he finally accepted that this inconspicuous kid had performed a miracle, completing what seemed impossible in mere seconds.

But one spring coil was not enough for the aneurysm.

Multiple coils were needed to completely seal it off.

Zhou Can had already made way.

And he wore an expression of complete nonchalance.

As if it were nothing more than a trivial task.

Such a performance left Director Wen utterly mortified.

After all, one’s own people know best.

Even though Zhou Can easily managed the coil, if he were to operate the remaining ones, they’d most likely jam again.

That would be the moment Director Wen’s reputation would be thoroughly shattered.

“What’s your name?”

Director Wen collected himself and asked Zhou Can for his name.

This was a routine question among senior doctors.

Whenever they encountered an outstanding junior, the very first question was always their name.

It was like greeting an old acquaintance—with standard opening lines.

“Have you eaten?”

“What beautiful weather we’re having!”

…

“My name is Zhou Can, a trainee recently rotated to the General Surgery Department.”

He should have added that he was also a general trainee here at the hospital.

But on second thought, he decided against it.

After all, general trainees actually held higher status than any other trainee.

“Xiao Zhou, your performance was exceptional. It shows you have a natural talent for implantation procedures. I’m assigning you the rest of the coil implantations. Youngsters need ample opportunities to grow,”

Director Wen’s smooth talk was as skillful as ever.

Even though he himself was incapable of performing the operation, he had to wrap it up in grandiose words for Zhou Can.

“But that doesn’t seem fair! I’m inexperienced and of a lower rank. Perhaps Dr. Zou or Dr. Tang Li should take over?”

Zhou Can couldn’t stand such hypocrisy.

He intentionally retorted to rile up Director Wen.

“No, no—we’ll give them plenty of chances later. This time, you must let me handle it.”

Director Wen was determined to shove this training opportunity down Zhou Can’s throat.

Because only Zhou Can could get the job done.

Dr. Zou operating would never be acceptable; he almost killed the patient earlier.

As for Dr. Tang Li, her skills were even inferior to Dr. Zou’s.

There was simply no way she could agree.

Zhou Can, teasing Director Wen, almost burst out laughing at his anxious disapproval.

“Alright then, I won’t hold back! Thank you, Director Wen, for your trust and guidance.”

Zhou Can wisely decided to keep it short.

Offending a chief surgeon never brought any benefits; it was just idle chatter.

He took his place at the chief position and continued with the procedure.

One after another, the spring coils were implanted as if he were playing a game—easily and precisely arranged into place.

Soon, the entire volume of the brain aneurysm was packed with spring coils. Once the thrombus formed, the intracranial hemorrhage was finally controlled.

“Excellent! The patient’s blood pressure and heart rate are gradually stabilizing!”

The anesthesiologist’s anxious heart finally eased.

His look toward Zhou Can was a complex mix of admiration, astonishment, and gratitude.

Had Zhou Can not stepped in, the patient might never have made it to the operating table.

“Hmm, the operation was pretty good. Still, there’s room for improvement—for example, the orientation of the coil openings should be uniform,” Director Wen offered a pretentious critique.

No one had ever mentioned that the coil openings needed to align.

It was just a lame excuse to assert his authority.

Through this surgery, Zhou Can fully realized Director Wen’s true skillset and character.

He wasn’t particularly outstanding in other surgical skills, such as puncture or implantation—they were only average at best.

He was by no means impressive.

Furthermore, this man was obsessed with face.

Whether it was forcefully releasing the spring coil from the catheter earlier or later letting Zhou Can rescue the operation while dressing it up with pompous words, everything revealed his hypocritical nature.

Clearly, not every chief surgeon was as upright or resolute as they appeared.

Fortunately, the brain aneurysm intervention was ultimately successful.

The patient’s life was saved.

“Director Wen, the patient has a certain amount of intracranial hematoma. Do you think we need to drain it?”

Zhou Can examined the location of the lesion.

If given the chance to puncture, he was confident he could drain the blood without damaging vital cerebral vessels, nerves, or critical tissue.

Although the hemorrhage had stopped, persistent bleeding meant the intracranial pressure would still be high.

“Based on the images, the bleeding isn’t excessive. Even if the bleeding increases a bit during the surgery, it remains within a tolerable range. The risks of cranial puncture drainage are too high to take. In a few days, his body will naturally reabsorb the hematoma,”

Director Wen, having experienced the earlier crisis, proceeded with utmost caution, unwilling to take any further risks.

Successfully completing a brain aneurysm intervention not only brought in significant revenue for the department and bonuses for the chief surgeon,

but it also marked an important achievement in his surgical career.

Director Wen’s mood had ascended from the depths of despair to the heights of elation.

Everything was surprisingly excellent.

After confirming everything was in order, he withdrew the catheter and administered hemostatic drugs.

Then, he began anesthetic reversal.

Unlike routine postoperative reversal, the anesthesiologist dared not disconnect the vital sign monitors, merely ceasing the use of the anesthetic via a face mask.

Generally, once the anesthetic is stopped, the patient should wake on their own in ten to twenty minutes.

In exceptional cases, the anesthesiologist might use antagonists to counteract the sedative effects and hasten recovery.

During the patient’s awakening, Director Wen stayed by the bedside,

mainly in case any complications arose.

After all, those who climb to a chief surgeon’s position are notoriously cautious about safety.

They have witnessed too many near-disasters, and even a small oversight can lead to catastrophic consequences.

“Dr. Zhou, meet Dr. Tang Li. I’m a general surgeon specializing in functional neurological disorders,

with expertise in surgical treatment for Parkinson’s disease and refractory epilepsy,”

Dr. Tang Li greeted Zhou Can warmly with a smile.

Perhaps noticing the young trainee’s remarkable surgical talent, she sought to establish a rapport early on.

Hospitals are populated with doctors adept at networking.

If Zhou Can were to become famous in the future, connecting with her might prove difficult.

Besides, their departments were completely different—a natural barrier existed between them.

“Hello! It’s a pleasure to meet you!”

Zhou Can responded politely.

Inside, however, he wasn’t particularly interested in her.

She was attractive enough, but her surgical skills left much to be desired.

In comparison, Dr. Shan of Orthopedics, another young female doctor, was far more pragmatic.

“Buddy, you’re really just a trainee? I thought you were amazing when you implanted that coil!”

One graduate student couldn’t help but chime in.

In the integrated trainee program, graduate students effectively function as trainees, assisting in surgeries alongside their mentors.

However, with Tuyu’s rapid rise in recent years,

the hospital began enforcing the trainee system even for graduate students—a torturous second round of training, as some complained.

For instance, while graduate students in smaller hospitals might complete their training in a few weeks and start earning a salary as residents,

this wasn’t the case at Tuyu.

Tuyu simply didn’t comply.