Chapter 269: A Steady Hand Under Pressure

“Director Xue, there’s not much more we can do here. I still have patients to attend to, so I’ll head back to the ward,” said the associate chief physician who’d argued for a conservative approach. He glanced uneasily at Zhou Can scrubbing in, worried something might happen that would drag him down with trouble.

He found an excuse to leave right away.

The other doctors trickled out as well.

Even Director Liu from Critical Care made an exit.

Not everyone was afraid of getting caught up in trouble—some of them really did have urgent things to do.

Doctors and nurses were swamped as usual. Staying late wasn’t anything new.

Soon, only Director Xue, Director Le, one attending physician, two residents, and three surgical nurses were left in the operating room. Alongside them were Dr. Guan and Dr. Feng from Anesthesiology.

The operating room quieted down a lot.

Zhou Can was fully focused, carefully separating the lung tumor before removing it. With his current surgical skills, a procedure like this was well within his capabilities.

Encouraged by Dr. Feng, Dr. Guan found his confidence and took charge of the anesthesia again.

……

About an hour and a half later, the surgery ended successfully.

The patient’s lung tumor was removed without a hitch.

Thankfully, the patient made it through the operation without another cardiac arrest or other serious complications.

“Get him to the recovery room and let him wake up from the anesthesia. He’s still pretty high-risk, so don’t send him to a regular ward just yet. Move him to the ICU for two days and transfer him when he’s stable.”

Dr. Feng always looked composed sitting there, but inside he was a bundle of nerves.

He barely intervened with the patient during surgery.

Only when Dr. Guan hesitated or when the patient’s vitals shifted dramatically would Dr. Feng step in and give advice.

But after the operation, he was the first to check all the patient’s stats carefully—not nearly as laid-back as he seemed.

He must have decided the risks were still a bit high.

Ultimately, they chose to keep the patient in intensive care for two days, just in case.

“How about it? Feeling your confidence come back yet?”

Dr. Feng wasn’t in any rush to leave after finishing with the patient.

He turned instead to check on Dr. Guan.

“Much better than before. At least I don’t freeze when it’s time to face a patient.” Dr. Guan might have been exaggerating a little, but his nerves had gotten the best of him earlier.

The fact that he stuck it out and finished the anesthesia for this operation was already a big feat.

“Facing your fears is a good thing—it’s a huge step forward. After what you’ve just been through, I’m sure you’ll be even steadier and more confident next time.”

Dr. Feng was generous with his praise.

He finished talking with Dr. Guan and looked over to Zhou Can, who was peeling off his surgical gloves.

Still wrapped in his disposable gown, Zhou Can had powered through the entire surgery. He looked like he’d just had a free steam bath—his clothes underneath were soaked.

“Zhou Can, you switched over to Internal Medicine for your residency recently, right?”

“Yeah! I’ve been in Gastroenterology for over a month now,” Zhou Can replied.

“No wonder I haven’t seen you around in ages. If you have time, come by Anesthesiology and join me in the operating room. It’s a great way to train. If you wait a year or two and then try to pick it up, you won’t see the same results.”

Dr. Feng made him an offer most people would kill for.

“Sure! Once I’m back at Tuyu Hospital next week, I’ll find time and ask for your guidance.” Zhou Can agreed without hesitation.

Anesthesiology blends together medical science, life sciences, and nursing—a true multidisciplinary field.

It’s a lot more powerful than people realize.

In clinical practice, it’s every bit as important as pathology and pharmacology—the two core pillars of medicine.

Some doctors break Internal Medicine into neurology, respiratory, gastro, heme, and a bunch of other areas. But to Zhou Can, it’s a synthesis of three main skills: pathology, pharmacological reasoning, and anesthesia technique.

Master those three and you could practice medicine anywhere in the world without fear.

Looked like more overtime in his future.

His regular hours wouldn’t let him sneak off to Anesthesiology to work on anesthesia with Dr. Feng.

So, overtime it is.

In moments like this, he was reminded once again just how finite a person’s time and energy are. Medicine never ends; no one could ever master it in a single lifetime.

And as his skills grew, he’d only feel that more keenly—the struggle of never being able to do it all.

In the end, he’d have to pick one or two fields to specialize in, just like all the other renowned doctors, focusing everything on those. Anything outside that? He’d study it as much as he could, but not obsess.

After leaving the OR, he didn’t go home. Instead, he went to check on Dr. Hu Kan, who’d had another heart attack.

Things turned out much better than he’d imagined. This time, Dr. Hu Kan only had an arrhythmia and suffered an emotional blow—overwhelmed with worry for the patient. He was left drained and a little panicked, eventually passing out.

With proper care, he’d already woken up.

But he no longer looked as steady or formidable as when Zhou Can first met him.

Now, lying in the hospital bed, he looked frail and much older. In the six months since his first heart attack and surgery, it was like he’d aged more than a decade.

Zhou Can still remembered their first meeting—it was over a year ago, at the surgical safety conference. Back then, Dr. Hu Kan was like the rock next door: calm and immovable, exuding strength. The aura he gave off was formidable.

He hadn’t expected so much could change in less than two years—that a single incident in the operating room could flip everything upside down.

Being a doctor really was a dangerous profession.

Looking at Dr. Xu, who once lost out to Dr. Hu Kan—even he’d suffered major setbacks, including losing his operation privileges for bigger procedures. But Dr. Xu never gave up; years of hard work had only made him stronger.

All Dr. Xu needed was a chance to break free from those restrictions.

“Director Hu, how are you feeling?”

Zhou Can stood at the bedside, looking at this kind, respectable ‘elder.’

Though, truth be told, he wasn’t that old.

He wasn’t even sixty, probably.

But the heavy workload, plus weathering two life-altering setbacks and heart attacks, had left him utterly drained—that’s what made him look aged.

“I’m much better now. How’s that patient?”

Even lying in a hospital bed, Dr. Hu Kan’s thoughts were with his patient.

That moved Zhou Can deeply.

He’d devoted his whole life to medicine. Even while hospitalized, he was more worried about his patient than himself.

“He pulled through. The worst is over, don’t worry!” Zhou Can came partly to check on this teacher and mentor, and partly to deliver the good news—to set his mind at ease.

“I remember opening the patient’s chest in a hurry, and all I saw was a ton of blood and bubbles pouring out. With my experience, I thought there was no saving him. Zhou Can, are you sure you’re not telling me a little white lie just to comfort me?”

Dr. Hu Kan sounded skeptical.

Just then, a nurse from Cardiothoracic Surgery came in with a tray to check his vitals and give meds.

She overheard and couldn’t help but smile. “You can relax, Director Hu. Dr. Zhou’s not lying. The patient really is stable after rescue. I heard Dr. Zhou and Director Xue even took out a lung tumor during surgery.”

That nurse was really in the loop.

She was only a ward nurse, but she still knew everything that went on in the operating room.

It was obvious—those three OR nurses with loose lips must have spread the news.

“Lung tumor removal? That patient actually had a lung tumor? Oh, I dropped the ball, truly!” Dr. Hu Kan had seen it all and done it all.

When he heard Zhou Can and Director Xueyan had performed a tumor resection, he immediately put two and two together about why the first attempt at rescue had failed.

“Director Hu, I came to see you! Dr. Zhou is here too!”

Director Xueyan had changed into her white coat and came by the ward to check up on Dr. Hu Kan.

She was basically one of his protégés.

He’d always held her in high regard.

Among the chief physicians in Cardiothoracic Surgery, she’d always ranked near the top.

Once the patient was out of danger, she rushed over to share the good news.

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“I’m heading to an outside hospital this week. Leaving tomorrow, so I wanted to visit Director Hu.”

Zhou Can explained.

“To Xinxiang Maternity and Child Hospital for a specialist outpatient event, right? I’m not surprised the hospital chose you as one of the first team members. The initial group might be more relaxed for chief and associate chief physicians, but for young residents like you? Only the very best get sent—every single one’s a top-tier talent.”

As a department director and part of hospital management, Director Xueyan understood just how important this was.

“Me? I’m not top-tier—I’m just another resident with a ton still to learn. I wouldn’t have even passed my licensing exam without your help.”

He brought this up again because he was genuinely grateful.

Back then, it was thanks to Director Xueyan’s help picking out the key topics and likely exam questions.

Otherwise, finishing the mountain of medical review questions in just a few months would’ve been impossible.

“You’re always so humble!”

Hearing him mention the licensing exam, Director Xueyan didn’t say anything more, but her pride showed through her gentle smile.

The warmth in her eyes as she looked at Zhou Can spoke volumes.

“Zhou’s truly outstanding. I envy Dr. Xu for having such a wonderful student,” Dr. Hu Kan sighed from beside them.

He’d mentored plenty of students himself—none had become true successors.

That made him even more envious of Dr. Xu.

“Director Xue, how did you manage to save that patient? And what about the lung tumor—tell me everything.”

What weighed most heavily on Dr. Hu Kan’s mind was still that patient.

Back in the heat of the moment, there’d been no time to think through the case—he’d just relied on his clinical instincts to keep the patient alive.

The rescue techniques were correct, but he’d missed a few hidden danger signs.

Had he known there was a lung tumor, he would’ve guessed ruptured tumor bleeding and clot formation.

“You fainted, and the whole OR went into chaos. I was terrified and completely unprepared. You’ve always been my pillar of strength, so seeing you collapse left me scrambling. But I knew that holding it together and doing everything to save you and the patient was the only way I could face you. ”

Director Xueyan’s face still paled recalling it.

“The team sent you for treatment first, then we tried everything to save the patient. Nothing seemed to work—not even with Director Liu of Critical Care on board. In my panic, I remembered Dr. Zhou and the miracles he’s pulled off before. I called him in—honestly, it was a last-ditch effort. I hoped maybe, just maybe, he’d work another miracle for us…”

She explained everything to Dr. Hu Kan in detail.

“So it really was tumor rupture and bleeding! I just thought it was hemopneumothorax, so I never even considered that. X-ray has its limits—remember that in your future careers. What happened to me is a perfect warning not to overlook these things.”

Dr. Hu Kan choked up a little when he finished listening.

“Zhou, thank you for saving me and, more importantly, for saving Cardiothoracic Surgery at Tuyu Hospital. My reputation’s shot—so what. What I really feared was my fall damaging the whole department, sending our cases into a nosedive. Then I’d truly be Tuyu Hospital’s greatest failure.”

He’d always been a pillar and a symbol for Tuyu Hospital.

He couldn’t just collapse.

Losing him would spell disaster for Cardiothoracic Surgery.

“When I was a resident here, you and Director Xueyan did everything you could to help me learn. I’ll never be able to repay you for that. All I did this time was what little I could. If you ever need me in Cardiothoracic, I’ll do my best—without hesitation.”

Zhou Can openly stated his intentions.

He wanted them to know how he truly felt.

Some things have to be said—they can’t be kept hidden.

People are complicated.

Making others guess your intentions is never wise. It only leads to misunderstandings.

“Good, good! When I’m well, I’ll pass on everything I know—make you even stronger in Cardiothoracic. Even if you don’t stay on here, at least when I can’t work anymore, you can help watch over things. That’ll let me rest easy.”

To anyone listening, it almost sounded like Dr. Hu Kan was giving his last words.

Or maybe, after two close calls, he was just thinking about retiring.

Leaving on your own terms is usually the wisest move.

If you wait until you collapse, it’s much too late.

A look through history shows most people miss this lesson. They insist on soldiering on until it all falls apart. By the time regret sets in, it’s far too late.

Knowing when to stop is rare.

“Director Hu, you’re still young! You could work another thirty years, easy. Of course, if you’re willing to teach me more about surgery, I’d be thrilled.”

Zhou Can certainly wouldn’t pass up a good thing like this.

He was already Dr. Xu’s disciple, absorbing all he could there. If he could learn everything from Dr. Hu Kan too, he’d have the best of both worlds.

His achievements might reach heights even he couldn’t imagine.

You can have speed, or strength—but rarely both.

Still, that wouldn’t get in the way of learning Dr. Hu Kan’s surgical skills, experience, and emergency know-how.

To succeed as a doctor, talent and diligence are important—but nothing matters more than experience.

Even an average doctor could soar if they inherited a lifetime’s worth of skill and knowledge from two surgical legends.

Zhou Can’s talent was extraordinary, plus he had that medical experience points system to back him up. Add in two surgical masters’ legacies, and his future was beyond imagining.

“I’ve grown old! Everyone does. After my first heart surgery, I could feel my strength fading. My biggest fear is dropping suddenly—with no one left to carry on. One bad day could bring down everything we’ve built in Cardiothoracic in an instant. The sooner you prepare, the safer you’ll be.”

Dr. Hu Kan understood these things better than most.