Chapter 311: A Sudden Rise to Fame in the Clinic

“Teacher, I…”

She basked in the spotlight, soaking in the rare honor. Since joining Tuyu Hospital, she’d never felt so celebrated.

Only back in school did she ever enjoy this kind of admiration.

Yet her unwavering honesty and strong sense of self-respect pushed her to gather her courage. She had to set the record straight.

Because the one who truly diagnosed the pregnant woman with possible diabetic ketoacidosis was Zhou Can.

“You, you’re just a bit shy! You did great today, and you deserve every bit of praise. No need to feel embarrassed.” Director Zhang looked at his cherished apprentice with warm, approving eyes.

Just as parents always think their children are the best, mentors naturally believe their apprentices are remarkable too.

Zhang Bihua never considered that this patient wasn’t actually diagnosed by her apprentice.

“Teacher, the person who noticed the abnormal blood sugar was Zhou Can, not me!” Yang Chan bit her lip but summoned all her courage to tell the truth.

Not only did she look pure, but her heart was just as spotless.

She refused to accept anything that didn’t rightfully belong to her.

And even though she knew Zhou Can would never take credit or complain, even if she stayed silent—

Her own pride and principles simply wouldn’t allow it.

If you want to judge a person’s character, look at their attitude toward money. But to test if their soul is truly clean, you have to see if they can resist temptation.

“Zhou Can again?”

Zhang Bihua was only mildly surprised by the revelation.

“Still, it’s impressive that you gave credit where it’s due.”

After praising Yang Chan, Director Zhang looked toward Zhou Can standing by the door.

This guy always liked to stay tucked away in the back, quietly making waves.

“Zhou, come up and share your diagnostic approach with everyone! This case has real educational value. Let the younger doctors learn from your methods.”

Zhang Bihua wasn’t the least bit upset to have the spotlight stolen by a junior.

Everyone has strengths and weaknesses.

Each doctor brings something different to the table. Medicine is vast and boundless—you can’t master it all in a lifetime. With every doctor bringing unique thought processes, knowledge and experience, it’s only natural that some shine in areas others don’t.

Even the top experts have blind spots, even in their own specialties.

Take this pregnant patient, for example—even Director Zhang Bihua hadn’t considered diabetic ketoacidosis.

When the lab results came in, she was genuinely stunned.

Yet she took her junior’s achievement with calm grace.

“Dr. Zhou is incredible!”

Gao Jian watched Zhou Can bask in the spotlight again, racking up another big win. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a bit jealous.

But talent isn’t something you can force.

Gao Jian had to admit Zhou Can’s diagnostic skills and clinical thinking were well beyond his own—not to mention his experience.

“He really puts on a good show, huh?”

Du Leng snorted, visibly sour.

Couldn’t believe Zhou Can managed another big success right under his nose.

When Zhou Can had asked Yang Chan to check the patient’s skin in her armpit and groin for discoloration, Du Leng had tried to guess what he was thinking. He’d wracked his brain but just couldn’t figure it out.

It wasn’t until Yang Chan suggested Director Zhang test the patient’s blood sugar that it finally clicked for Du Leng.

But by then, it was already too late.

All eyes were on him, so Zhou Can had no choice but to step up beside Zhang Bihua. Shooting Yang Chan a slightly resentful glance, he muttered, “Why’d you have to drag me into this?”

“Just share your thought process already! I’d never steal your credit, not when my conscience is clear.” She shot right back, confident as ever.

She was still the proud class monitor she’d always been.

“Tuyu Hospital really lives up to its reputation. Not only are the senior doctors top-notch, but even the younger generation shines. Is Dr. Zhou really just a resident in training?”

Hu Wanjun found it hard to believe.

Honestly, even a full resident would struggle to have skills like his.

While most people just watch the excitement, Hu Wanjun saw beneath the surface—decades of expertise had taught her to spot the details.

She knew just how tough it was to identify diabetic ketoacidosis in this pregnant woman. The diagnosis seemed straightforward, but with so few obvious symptoms, no clear evidence, and with earlier blood sugar tests coming back normal, it took more than guts. You needed deep medical knowledge, hands-on clinical experience, and keen thinking.

Miss one of those, and it simply wasn’t possible.

Hu Wanjun rarely handed out praise, but she had nothing but admiration for Zhou Can now.

“I swear, I’m really not as remarkable as you think. I’m just another resident. There are plenty of young doctors at Tuyu Hospital as good or better than me.”

Facing this top-tier expert from Xinxiang Maternity and Child Hospital, Zhou Can stayed humble without downplaying Tuyu’s reputation.

“The patient was tested just two days ago. Why were you so sure her blood sugar was off?”

Hu Wanjun was eager to learn.

She truly wanted to know how Zhou Can pieced it all together.

The rest of the doctors waited for him to share.

“Honestly, it’s not that complicated. I’ve treated a lot of diabetes patients, so I remember the telltale skin symptoms—dark, brownish patches, even obvious skin conditions. In clinical practice, if only the neck or armpit is dark—even pitch black—you still can’t diagnose diabetes with certainty.”

“Only when you see these signs in a pregnant woman does the likelihood of diabetes go up. The farther along the pregnancy, the higher the risk.”

Getting to the root cause is always more complicated than it seems.

A single symptom rarely points to a single illness.

Take abdominal pain—it could be enteritis, uterine fibroids, or even a hernia.

But when you see multiple dark patches on the skin and the woman is 37 weeks pregnant, only then should diabetic ketoacidosis come to mind.

“Later on, the patient picked up a water cup but missed, so I realized her vision might also be impaired. Watching her movements confirmed it. That’s when I was basically sure she had diabetic ketoacidosis.”

Zhou Can’s method clearly worked far better than process-of-elimination.

Combining just two symptoms with late-stage pregnancy, he’d quickly narrowed the possibilities.

“But they tested her blood sugar two days ago and it was fine—how did things go wrong so fast?” Du Leng finally blurted out his burning curiosity.

The minute the question slipped out, Du Leng realized he’d exposed a gap in his knowledge.

Still, plenty of others wanted to know too, so everyone just turned to Zhou Can expectantly.

“Five days before being admitted, the patient had a severe upper respiratory infection. That kind of acute illness is a stressor, and under stress, insulin in the body becomes insufficient. This leads to increased counter-regulatory hormones and liver glucose output, which can tip someone into dangerous hyperglycemia. If the patient’s food and water intake was restricted during the last two days for testing, that could have made things even worse.”

“That’s my complete reasoning and explanation. There may be oversights, so please correct me if I’m wrong.”

When Zhou Can finished, the entire room fell silent.

Most doctors were still thinking through his analysis.

“Dr. Zhou’s analysis is spot-on. It aligns perfectly with endocrinology’s textbook pathophysiology!”

A doctor from Xinxiang Maternity and Child Hospital couldn’t help but praise him.

“This case will definitely teach us to consider stress states when diagnosing pregnant patients,” said Hu Wanjun, the seasoned expert. She’d seen and learned it all—or so she thought.

Still, it was her first time encountering such a rare scenario.

Of course, it helped explain things that her specialty was gynecology rather than obstetrics.

“The younger generation is truly impressive! This world is yours now,” Director Zhang Bihua said, clearly moved.

Her own specialty included obstetrics, yet here she was outshone by a resident.

As she said, each generation produces its own heroes—the world is for the young.

The older generation will eventually step aside.

“Honestly, I just lucked out—I happened to know about cases like this,” Zhou Can said modestly, not about to show off for the senior doctors around.

These were all heavy hitters in the medical world, not a simple crowd.

…

After the IV drip, the pregnant woman’s blood sugar dropped to around 14 mmol/L, and her baby’s heartbeat grew noticeably stronger.

Everyone finally breathed a sigh of relief.

Director Zhang Bihua had the nurse swap the IV for 5% glucose saline.

This was to boost her caloric intake and help correct the ketones faster.

With this step, they’d basically stabilized her condition. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted from Hu Wanjun and the rest.

Expressions in the room relaxed quite a bit.

They all returned to the conference room to tackle another round of complicated and critical cases.

After this, Zhou Can’s reputation soared. From Xinxiang Maternity and Child Hospital, not a single doctor dared look down on him anymore.

As for Tuyu Hospital, everyone already knew what he could do—now they just respected him even more.

Meanwhile, the patient with the aching leg and suspected vein thrombosis had finished her rounds of tests.

It was essentially confirmed—she had deep vein thrombosis in her lower limb, with multiple blockages, plus varicose veins. Considering her financial hardships and poor surgical condition, the group developed a drug-based thrombolysis treatment plan for her on the spot.

If the medication didn’t work, she’d need to be admitted and surgery scheduled later.

For these experts, diagnosing that patient was routine—a small detour, nothing special.

At least for the assembled specialists, deep vein thrombosis isn’t exactly a challenge.

They still had seven tough or critical cases to discuss, so the atmosphere grew lively as everyone pitched in their opinions.

Doctors from both hospitals went from being a little distant to gradually warming up to each other.

“We admitted a 63-year-old female patient. Her CT shows a lesion in her left upper lung—likely lung cancer. Could the experts offer opinions on whether surgery is possible?”

Professor Hu Wanjun signaled her assistant to put the CT images on screen so everyone could see.

“This looks like an early-stage lung cancer. Surgery fits the criteria.”

“But the patient’s quite elderly. If possible, we should avoid the traditional open-chest surgery.”

“Thoracoscopic surgery is a great option!”

Everyone chimed in with their thoughts.

Many doctors in the room specialized in internal medicine and weren’t as well-versed in surgery.

But in recent years, with advances in endoscopic procedures—and the push to stay relevant—internal medicine doctors have had to learn intervention and endoscopy.

That’s the only reason internists have any say in cases like this.

Still, for real expertise, you couldn’t beat the cardiothoracic surgeons.

“This surgery won’t be easy—there are many lymph nodes to clear, plus a left upper lobe resection is needed. Our chief of cardiothoracic surgery at Xinxiang Maternity and Child, Director He Miao, is away studying abroad. Director Zhang, could Tuyu Hospital send an experienced lead surgeon to support us?”

Keeping this lung cancer case for last, Xinxiang Maternity and Child Hospital clearly intended to ask for backup.

But it was their first time collaborating—and both hospitals had their own interests at stake. It was no easy thing to get Tuyu’s surgical team involved.

Don’t be fooled—internists may look down on surgeons in the hospital, but lots of cases simply can’t be handled without surgery.

There’s a big difference between internal and surgical medicine.

Internists can often work solo—heroes abound.

But surgery takes an expert team working in perfect sync.

To invite internists for consultations, you send one doctor.

To ask surgeons to operate—especially on a big case—you need a whole team.

Even affiliated hospitals like Tuyu Affiliate Hospital 2 or 3 have trouble borrowing the top surgical teams from the main hospital. Hospitals aren’t a dictatorship—they’re made up of many departments working together, a collective of interests.

It’s more like a country.

Each department is like a province—you need everyone to agree for big decisions.

Cardiothoracic surgery is a hectic field, and the number of surgeons qualified for major operations is tiny.

If Xinxiang Maternity and Child Hospital wanted a whole team to save their lung cancer patient, Tuyu wasn’t likely to agree.

“Director Hu, I really have no authority here. If your hospital is serious, you should speak directly to the upper management or the cardiothoracic department at Tuyu. Or, you could refer the patient to us for surgery—either way is fine.”

Zhang Bihua politely hinted at this.

If you don’t have the ability, you can’t expect everything to fall into your lap.

It’s always best to know your limits.

“All right, I’ll report to Director Tian before making a decision. Thank you, everyone, for taking time out of your busy schedules to help us with these tough cases. On behalf of Xinxiang Maternity and Child Hospital, thank you.”

Professor Hu Wanjun stood up and bowed to the medical team from Tuyu Hospital.

With every case resolved, their tension eased further.

Back at the hotel, the Xinxiang Maternity and Child Hospital staff pulled out all the stops—they sent custom fruit plates and late night snacks to each doctor’s room. Service was top-notch.

The next day, Zhou Can joined the specialists in the hospital’s outpatient hall for their clinic appointments.

He glanced at the line in front of his desk—no less than twenty patients. He thought he was seeing things.

He rubbed his eyes. Sure enough, patients were queued for Dr. Zhou Can’s table.

With such a big nameplate, there’s no way they’d confused his desk.

At Du Leng’s desk, things were as usual: a short line of maybe eleven or twelve patients.

“Dr. Zhou, what did you do last night? Your desk is practically swamped!” Deputy Director Shi stared in amazement.

“I almost wondered if they all lined up at the wrong table!”

Zhou Can’s joke had his coworkers roaring with laughter.

“It’s probably because of those two news segments yesterday. When a TV news program on satellite TV covers you, even with a bit of promotional flair, it’s enough to draw a crowd. This seven-day specialist clinic—Dr. Zhou’s definitely the big winner! Dr. Zhou, you’ll have to treat us to dinner when it’s over.”

Director Jiang teased him with a grin.

“No problem—just tell me where you want to eat, it’s on me.” When it came to treating friends, Zhou Can never stinted.

He just made sure he never played the sucker.

He only spent on things that were truly worth it.

“My goodness! Two news reports and you go from unknown to famous overnight—leapfrogging straight to famed physician status! Did you bribe the TV reporters for some special coverage or what?”

A middle-aged doctor in his forties asked sourly.

“If only! Seriously, don’t wake me if I’m dreaming. The day before yesterday I only saw two patients; now that was hard to swallow.”

Seeing all those patients lined up, Zhou Can couldn’t have been happier.

With Ji You in tow, he strode confidently to the table.

He settled in at his spot.

“Dr. Zhou is here!”

Family members and patients in line were clearly excited; smiles broke out everywhere.

Clearly, no one had lined up by mistake—they were all here for him.

A wave of relief washed over Zhou Can. His smile grew more genuine and confident.

He’d never seen so many patients waiting for his help.

He felt like someone who’d just won the lottery overnight.

TV news reports really do pack a punch.

Now that he was a little famous, Zhou Can resolved to treasure it all the more. He couldn’t help glancing at the far corner—no sign of the TV reporters or camera crew.

Someday, he’d get a big scoop for Mu Qing to repay the favor.

She’d really done him a good turn.