Chapter 230: A Test of Skill and Teamwork

First, fully grasp the patient’s condition, history, and symptoms. Only then can you devise a more targeted surgical plan.

This marked Zhou Can’s first battle since joining the Gastroenterology Department.

Rescuing that patient with gastrointestinal bleeding this morning was merely a calling card.

Now is the real moment to make a name for himself and establish his reputation.

However, this patient’s treatment is nothing short of a nightmare.

Not even Zhou Can—Director Shang himself might not have the confidence to handle it.

While the nurse fetched additional records, Zhou Can measured and recorded the patient’s vital signs.

Handing the patient over for his sole management meant that every task fell on his shoulders.

The patient’s condition looked extremely dire.

After months without being able to eat, surviving only on intravenous nutritional injections—not only expensive but also terribly torturous—the patient was a skeleton, with ribs, joints in the hands and feet, all starkly visible.

Sustaining life solely through nutritional fluids eventually leads to atrophy of the gastrointestinal mucosa, causing the intestinal villi to shrink.

Even if surgery reopens the passage from the esophagus to the jejunum, the patient would need a long time to readjust to oral feeding.

“Excuse me, please make way!”

At that moment, another patient was led into the ward by nurses and doctors.

Zhou Can glanced at the empty bed #72 beside him.

It seemed the patient in bed #71 had gained a new neighbor.

“Hey, you look unfamiliar! Are you the new Doctor Zhou Can?”

The young doctor, directing a family member to settle the patient into bed #72, finally looked up to greet Zhou Can.

“I’m Zhou Can. May I know your surname?”

Zhou Can replied with a smile.

“I’m Duan Zifu! Also a trainee under Director Shang. It’s a pleasure to meet you!”

The other young doctor, exuding warmth, smiled as he stepped forward to shake Zhou Can’s hand.

Director Shang’s team boasted quite a few doctors.

A more formidable medical group—comprising interns, trainees, and residents—often numbered anywhere from a dozen to twenty.

Zhou Can recalled the most impressive chief physician he’d seen once managed as many as eleven interns. With additional trainees, residents, and attending physicians, the total reached almost twenty.

Such a medical team had formidable execution power.

Normally, a small medical group consisted of only three or four doctors.

Sometimes, there could even be a disconnect.

For instance, a chief physician might only have one or two residents with no attending physicians at all.

Building a powerful medical team was no simple feat.

Private hospitals need not be mentioned—profit always came first. Even public hospitals valued performance; they couldn’t afford idle staff.

Thus, a key factor in nurturing a strong team was having an exceptionally outstanding ‘leader’ at the helm.

Director Shang, a renowned physician at Tuyu Hospital, naturally attracted plenty of patients.

This was the cornerstone that allowed a massive team to thrive.

Zhou Can shook hands with Duan Zifu, noting the latter’s infectious enthusiasm.

“Nice to meet you!”

He felt that Duan Zifu’s handshake was soft and vigorous yet lacking in firmness—a sign of a perhaps overly indecisive personality, at least in Zhou Can’s experience.

Of course, that was just Zhou Can’s personal observation.

Duan Zifu appeared to be around thirty.

At that age, becoming a trainee usually meant either graduating from graduate school or coming from a community hospital, much like Jin Mingxi who entered through the trainee recruitment exam.

Either way, it was quite an achievement.

“Dr. Duan, what condition does your patient have?”

“Gallstones. We’ve admitted him today and are planning an interventional procedure.”

Without delay, Dr. Duan passed over the patient’s examination reports and medical records for Zhou Can to review.

“Our team only has three trainees—plus one female doctor surnamed Yu. Please take good care of the patient when Dr. Zhou isn’t around. Of course, healthy competition within the group is essential.”

Duan Zifu’s remarks amused Zhou Can.

Competition didn’t have to mean hostility—it could also be a mutual support system.

Duan Zifu’s worldview was surprisingly mature.

“Hehe, you’re absolutely right,”

Zhou Can quickly skimmed through the records for the patient in bed #72. It was just a regular case of gallstones—an interventional procedure would suffice.

After all, it wasn’t his primary case, so a brief overview would do.

This patient presented limited learning value.

Just an ordinary case.

“The patient in bed #74 is also under my care—he suffers from cardiospasm at the esophagogastric junction, leading to swallowing difficulties and frequent regurgitation. Two top-tier hospitals had been hesitant to operate on him. Even Director Shang only admitted him after hearing how long he had traveled from a remote area and after a careful evaluation.”

Dr. Duan then introduced another patient’s case to Zhou Can.

There were four beds in the ward, and the patient in bed #73 was unassigned.

Dr. Duan skipped over bed #73 in his introduction—clearly not under his care.

Cardiospasm at the esophagogastric junction was a challenging condition with various causes.

Zhou Can had performed such surgeries before.

He had a deep understanding of this condition.

While it couldn’t be completely cured, surgery generally yielded satisfactory results.

Since the patient was admitted by Director Shang in the Gastroenterology Department, the question remained: Would they call in surgeons from General Surgery or opt for drug therapy?

The exact plan was unclear.

However, for this condition, Gastroenterology is typically the first choice for registration.

“If any issues arise with these two patients while I’m away, please look after them, Dr. Zhou.”

“Of course!”

Zhou Can readily agreed.

After all, doctors in the same team had such responsibilities.

While they were talking, a young female doctor about 1.6 meters tall, with flowing hair and delicate features yet an unfriendly expression that belied her cool demeanor, briskly entered the ward with a stethoscope in hand.

She exuded the typical air of a high-and-mighty doctor.

“This is Dr. Yu Xin. She’s in charge of bed #73,”

Duan Zifu quietly introduced her to Zhou Can.

As the female doctor passed by, Duan Zifu flashed a radiant smile and greeted, “Dr. Yu, are you taking the patient’s measurements? If you’re busy, I can handle it and ensure all vital signs are recorded precisely.”

In Internal Medicine, treatment is primarily through medication.

Management of inpatients requires extra vigilance.

Especially when monitoring post-medication changes or any adverse reactions, timely record-keeping was essential.

Some high-risk prescriptions necessitated nurses to frequently check on patients.

“No, thank you!”

Her tone was icy.

Zhou Can had initially thought that, since they belonged to the same group and there were only three trainees, a brief greeting would suffice in getting acquainted.

But seeing her so cold, he decided against pressing further.

There was no point in putting effort into warming a frosty reception.

“Dr. Yu, our team just got a new trainee, did you hear?” Despite her chill, Duan Zifu’s enthusiasm remained undampened.

Zhou Can, a seasoned veteran, instantly recognized Duan Zifu’s intentions—he could tell the other doctor was interested in Dr. Yu.

At thirty, she was considered a bit older for a trainee.

If she hadn’t married yet, her concerns would be understandable.

“Hmm!”

She replied with a curt, detached hum.

“Here he is—Zhou Can. I’ve heard he’s outstanding. He even managed to save a patient with gastrointestinal bleeding this morning,” Duan Zifu continued boldly, eager to keep the conversation going.

Finding something to say, he persisted.

He planned to chat with her a bit more.

“Oh!”

Her reply remained as cool as ice as she lowered her gaze to take the patient’s temperature, pulse, IV rate, and remaining fluid volume.

“I’ve told Dr. Zhou that the three of us should look out for one another while still keeping up the competition—and he agreed.”

Duan Zifu shamelessly continued.

“Hmm!”

Her disinterest was as clear as day—she did not wish to engage in further conversation with him.

Yet Duan Zifu clung on like a stubborn piece of taffy.

Zhou Can couldn’t bear to watch any longer.

Just then, the daughter of the patient in bed #71 returned with some documents; after receiving them, Zhou Can exited the ward immediately.

A refined lady is the perfect match for a gentleman.

Let Duan Zifu, the perpetual single, chase after her while Zhou Can already had a top-tier girlfriend—no need to stress about finding a wife.

Back in his office, he began to carefully review the patient’s reports and treatment history from the other hospital.

For patients who had undergone multiple failed surgeries, retracing the preoperative assessments and understanding the past procedures and their outcomes was immensely helpful for future treatment.

At the very least, it kept Zhou Can informed and helped him avoid pitfalls.

…

He wasn’t assigned any new patients until after work.

Director Shang was very discerning in scheduling his doctors.

His intention was quite clear.

He deliberately assigned a highly challenging case to Zhou Can to gauge his capabilities.

If Zhou Can could make progress with this demanding case, it’d prove that his skills exceeded even the rumors. In the next two months of training, he could be employed directly as an attending physician.

If Zhou Can continued to excel, Director Shang might even promote him to deputy chief physician.

When Zhou Can was a trainee in General Surgery, Mr. Liu had already used him as a chief physician.

He was entrusted with performing various level-three surgeries with significant autonomy.

Handling ward duties and diagnosing difficult cases, Zhou Can’s opinions were highly valued.

After work, Zhou Can even made a point to check on the ward—to ensure that the patient’s vital signs were stable before handing over to the on-call doctor for the night.

Interns are generally not scheduled to cover night shifts alone.

In reality, when trouble arose, even one intern couldn’t handle it alone.

In a department as large as Gastroenterology, there was always at least one attending on night duty.

Due to their seniority and high status, directors and deputy chief physicians rarely took night shifts.

This was an unspoken rule in the hospital.

However, if a night duty doctor encountered an unexpected emergency or the patient’s condition deteriorated rapidly, they would immediately call for support from a chief or deputy chief physician.

At that moment, chief physicians—usually over fifty—would scramble out of their warm beds to rush to the hospital for the rescue.

Just as Zhou Can reached the apartment building, he spotted a familiar BMW parked below.

His girlfriend Su Qianqian had come to see him again.

Hurrying forward, he approached the car where female bodyguard Wei Fang sat in the driver’s seat and Su Qianqian was seated in the back.

“Honey, work’s done!”

Su Qianqian no longer called him Can; she now addressed him as ‘honey’ most of the time.

“Weren’t you supposed to have a concert tomorrow? You still found time to come see me today!” Zhou Can naturally took her hand. “Wei Fang, would you like to join us inside?”

It was just a polite inquiry.

Ever perceptive, Wei Fang knew better than to become an unnecessary third wheel.

Sometimes, even when Su Qianqian was in a hurry, she would still want to see Zhou Can to soothe her longing, so she’d park in the hospital lot or below the apartment building and wait in the car.

She wouldn’t come inside; she’d stay in the car with Zhou Can for a while.

Wei Fang would then tactfully wait outside.

Overall, Wei Fang’s performance as a bodyguard pleased Zhou Can. A long time ago, when Mr. Li had learned that Zhou Can had hired Wei Fang for Su Qianqian, he had suggested that the company should pay her salary.

However, Zhou Can had refused.

He believed that only by paying for Wei Fang himself could he ensure her loyalty.

That was a lesson his parents had taught him from a young age.

They told him that whoever paid his workers was the one in charge of their livelihood—and workers only listened to the person who paid them.

If Jin Yu Interactive were to handle Wei Fang’s salary and assign her other duties, she wouldn’t be able to refuse.

It would be harder for her to always guarantee Su Qianqian’s safety.

Often, a mishap could occur in an instant—a tiny oversight could expose one to wrongdoers.

Especially now that Su Qianqian’s fame was soaring, attracting too many unwanted advances.

“I’m not going. I’ll wait for Miss Su in the car!”

Wei Fang smiled and declined.

Since her professional security training and combat classes, she had grown even more stoic.

Only when it was Zhou Can, Su Qianqian, or her grandmother would she ever show such a smile.

Usually, she maintained an impassive, icy demeanor.

Zhou Can led Su Qianqian upstairs; Jin Mingxi still hadn’t returned.

Lately, Jin Mingxi was either on night duty or returning very late. Sometimes, lying in bed, he would be busy messaging someone.

And with his rosy glow and smug air, Zhou Can silently guessed that Jin Mingxi might have overstepped boundaries with that girl named Yezi.

But that was just Zhou Can’s conjecture, with no concrete evidence.

Besides, he wouldn’t interfere in someone else’s private life.

Even if Jin Mingxi ended up in a divorce battle with his wife, Zhou Can wouldn’t get too involved.

Jin Mingxi had been training in the provincial capital for almost two years now, yet his wife and children had never visited.

He had only gone home once during last year’s Chinese New Year.

One could only marvel at the audacity of his wife.

Men are like cats with a taste for fresh catch; when left alone for too long, their resistance to temptation fades.

Once inside the apartment, Su Qianqian took the initiative to close the door.

Zhou Can’s heart raced, thinking she might be hinting at something intimate.

But as Su Qianqian nestled into his arms, her tone brimmed with worry as she said, “Can, there’s something I’m not sure I should tell you…”

“Of course you should! You promised that we’d be honest with each other—only then can we trust one another,” Zhou Can retorted, wrapping his arms around her and turning her to face him. Their eyes locked in a gaze that was undeniably intimate.

The pose itself was rather suggestive.

After all, they were already at the stage of discussing marriage, so it wasn’t out of place.

Compared to before, she looked even more beautiful now.

Her inner confidence shone through, elevating her presence even further.

Compared to the icy Dr. Yu Xin in the department, the difference was night and day.

Big-name stars always invest more consciously in self-care.

Added to that were professional makeup and image consultants—Su Qianqian was naturally stunning, exuding charm at every turn.

Every smile and frown was irresistibly captivating.

“This matter concerns your relationship with Boss Li. I’ve only heard rumors, so it might not be true. I’m not sure what Boss Li will ultimately do,” she said, her usually radiant face now marred by worry.

Her tone was very serious, and her stunning features betrayed deep concern.