Chapter 499: The Live-Broadcast Surgery Dilemma

Zhou Can examined the little girl and immediately noticed a pronounced bulge in the precordial area. There was an obvious tremor between the third and fourth ribs along the left sternal border.

The tremor was even clearer when he pressed his fingertips to that spot.

He tried listening with his stethoscope over the area and heard a distinct murmur. It was the sound of blood rushing during cardiac contraction.

“Could there be something wrong with her right ventricle?”

Zhou Can couldn’t say for certain, but based on his experience, he made an initial diagnosis.

He listened carefully again for any abnormal sounds between her ribs.

His brows knitted slightly. This murmur was strange. He was sure he’d never heard anything like it before.

There are just so many kinds of congenital heart disease.

What kind of lesion could produce a murmur like this?

An echocardiogram seemed like the right next step.

Given the special nature of congenital heart disease, a cardiac X-ray was also necessary for further evaluation.

The lab processed the tests quickly and soon the results were in.

The aorta measured 2 cm, left ventricle 3.3 cm, right ventricle 2.6 cm, and pulmonary artery 1.2 cm. The atria were in a normal position. The right ventricle was dominant, with both the aorta and pulmonary artery arising from it— the aorta in front and the pulmonary artery behind.

There was a ventricular septal defect with a gap of about 2.2 cm near the outflow tract. Blood from the left ventricle passed through the septal defect and entered the aorta. The pulmonary valve leaflets showed thickening and stenosis, with an opening diameter of only 0.3 cm.

At this point, Zhou Can finally understood the reason for that strange murmur.

Turns out, the girl had double outlet right ventricle.

The pulmonary valve orifice was so narrow— no wonder her blood oxygen levels were so low.

Further tests showed the forward flow velocity through the pulmonary valve was just 3.1 m/s, with a pressure gradient of 10.44 kPa. Slight pulmonary valve regurgitation was also noted.

The chest X-ray revealed fine vascular markings in both lungs, a sunken pulmonary artery segment, and enlargement of the right atrium and ventricle.

It was now clear—congenital heart disease was the only possible diagnosis.

She had double outlet right ventricle with pulmonary stenosis.

Surgery was the only way to fix it.

But the surgical risks were high and the procedure itself was extremely challenging.

And the cost wasn’t cheap either.

“Your daughter has a serious form of congenital heart disease. She needs corrective surgery as soon as possible. We can’t do such a major operation in the Emergency Department— you’ll have to consult Cardiothoracic Surgery. I was just heading there myself; if you’re willing, I can take you along.”

Zhou Can said this to the family.

Director Xueyan had already called him twice, urging him to come over.

But Zhou Can had to delay, since the girl’s test results hadn’t come out yet.

Her condition was too unstable, and Dr. Xie, who was on duty tonight, lacked experience in emergencies. Mishandling this could easily cost a life.

Seeing Zhou Can so dedicated, the girl’s family was more than happy to follow him to Cardiothoracic Surgery.

Tuyu Hospital was enormous and it wasn’t easy to find the Cardiothoracic Surgery Department this late at night.

If they waited and followed procedures in the Emergency Department, it would still take a long time, maybe even until the next day, for a specialist from Cardiothoracic Surgery to collect them.

Once there, Zhou Can handed the child off to the admissions doctor and gave some quick instructions before heading straight to the operating room.

Looked like there was no chance for dinner tonight.

Fortunately, when Director Xue called earlier and found out he’d just left a surgery only to run into a congenital heart disease case, she guessed he’d missed dinner and set aside two slices of bread and a bottle of milk for him.

Zhou Can didn’t stand on ceremony— he finished everything in just a couple of bites and felt his stomach settle a bit.

Next up was another tough battle.

Tonight’s interventional cardiovascular procedure was guaranteed to be hellishly difficult.

…

Inside the Interventional Operating Room, the patient made an unusual request.

“Doctor, is it possible for me to live-stream the entire surgery?”

This surgery didn’t require general anesthesia.

The patient would remain awake for the entire procedure.

He wanted to stream the whole thing so he could share the experience with his fans.

“Why does it have to be live during surgery? You could just share your story with your followers after it’s over.”

Director Xueyan was clearly not thrilled.

Normally, hospitals would refuse such requests on the spot.

All they’d have to say was it involved patient privacy and violated hospital policy.

Patients are at a disadvantage in hospitals— it’s not like they can go against the doctors.

Unless they don’t want treatment at all.

“I’ve already posted several videos before surgery, telling my 2 million followers that I’d be live streaming the procedure tonight and sharing my journey. If you pull off the surgery, it’ll be major publicity for your hospital, your department, even you as doctors. It’s basically free advertising!”

The patient was playing dirty.

All for fame and follower interaction, he chose to put everyone on the spot after the fact.

He didn’t mention streaming in the ward— only brought it up after he’d entered the intervention room.

Not a single word about this before.

It was like a bride waiting until the wedding day, after the feast was set, to demand a higher dowry— putting the groom’s family on the spot and leaving them little choice but to accept.

“Mr. You, we hope you understand— live streaming an entire surgery puts a lot of pressure on the medical team. It adds an invisible hurdle to our work.”

Director Xueyan kept looking for a way to decline.

“But pressure creates motivation! If you refuse, it just makes you look like you lack confidence— afraid you’ll mess up or even fail, so you won’t allow it.”

That was a sharp blow— there was no graceful way to back out now.

He had a point. If the team truly believed in their surgical skills, why be afraid of live-streaming?

Just then, Director Xueyan’s phone rang.

She glanced at it and stepped out to answer.

Moments later, she returned.

“Dr. Zhou, let’s step out to discuss this patient’s request to live-stream the surgery.”

“Okay!”

Zhou Can gave the patient a deep, searching look and followed after her.

The patient looked utterly confident— almost as if he was sure the hospital would agree.

He probably knew the doctors and administrators wouldn’t say no.

Outside, Director Xueyan said directly to Zhou Can, “Vice-Director Ye will be here in a moment— he already knows what’s going on. I bet Director Zhu is in the loop too. Let’s head to the office.”

The two of them had just arrived at the office when, right on cue, Vice-Director Ye showed up.

He knew both Zhou Can and Director Xueyan well, so after a brief greeting, he got straight to the point.

“Director Xue, do you have confidence in tonight’s interventional heart surgery?”

“Uh… the procedure is extremely tough. We can only give it our best shot.”

Director Xueyan instinctively glanced at Zhou Can.

Because Zhou Can would actually be leading this surgery.

“Little Zhou’s been drafted as the workhorse again, huh?”

Vice-Director Ye smiled at Zhou Can.

“Guess I was born for hard labor. What can I do? If Sis Yan calls, I have to answer.”

Zhou Can’s answer was exactly what they expected.

“Haha, that’s called competence. You two, just give it to me straight— who’s leading the surgery tonight?”

Vice-Director Ye looked from one to the other.

It would’ve been madness to lie in front of him.

Nobody would dare try something that foolish.

The fact that he asked them directly, face to face, showed he really considered them part of the team.

“Zhou Can will lead. His interventional skills are excellent and he’s even better at adapting mid-surgery. If anyone has a shot, it’s him.”

Director Xueyan said solemnly.

“I figured as much. Little Zhou is one of our brightest young talents! Young people should push themselves— it’s a good thing.” Vice-Director Ye nodded, his gaze warm as it landed on Zhou Can. “What do you think the odds are?”

“Not high. Probably less than thirty percent.”

Zhou Can answered honestly.

“As far as I know, this patient already had surgery at two major hospitals before. Both are heavy hitters. The first was Imperial Capital Renhe Hospital— it’s ranked the strongest in the country. Over ten cardiovascular specialists spent more than four hours in the operating room, but the procedure failed.”

Vice-Director Ye revealed some shocking news.

No one expected that this was a patient even Renhe Hospital couldn’t help.

“But the patient never told us they’d been treated elsewhere! This guy really is sly.”

Hearing this, Director Xueyan was both shocked and furious.

If she’d known beforehand that even Renhe Hospital, with their top experts, had failed, there’s no way she’d have agreed to take on the case.

“It’s a good reminder to be extra cautious when dealing with tricky patients. It took almost a century for Tuyu to build this reputation— one mistake by a prominent doctor, and it could all be undone. Xinxiang Maternity and Child Hospital learned that lesson the hard way, even though it’s rebuilt itself since.”

Vice-Director Ye’s tone was serious as he cautioned them.

Director Xueyan was already a renowned physician, especially as a rising star in Cardiothoracic Surgery.

Zhou Can was on the path too— not quite famous yet, but already making a name for himself and definitely a standout in the talent pool.

Patients seeking out Zhou Can for diagnosis and surgery were increasing every day, whether in the Emergency Department or Pediatrics.

“On top of Renhe Hospital, the patient went to the Third Hospital recently. A Japanese heart surgeon, renowned for endoscopic and interventional procedures, led that operation. That surgeon is Third Hospital’s star. The whole surgery was live streamed— and unfortunately, they failed too.”

This patient was becoming a real troublemaker.

Severely ill and still stirring up chaos everywhere he went.

After failing at both Renhe and the Third Hospital, now it was Tuyu Hospital’s turn on the chopping block.

“Strange— if he’s failed at the nation’s top hospital and then at the Third Hospital with a famous Japanese surgeon, why go through all this again at our hospital? Surgery costs money, and each failed attempt must be exhausting for him too.”

Director Xueyan looked genuinely puzzled.

Seeking surgery at Renhe Hospital made sense—it’s the best in the country.

Then he turned to the Third Hospital, because of that Japanese heart surgeon.

Both those hospitals had failed; was there really any point coming to Tuyu?

Surely Tuyu Hospital wasn’t on a higher level than those two in interventional cardiology.

“That’s exactly what I wanted to say. According to reliable sources, when the Third Hospital failed, they got a wicked idea—smear our name too. All the treatment costs at Tuyu Hospital are being covered by the Third Hospital. If the plan works, the patient receives a hefty bonus. Through these live streams, he’ll gain new followers and keep his old fans engaged. It’s a win on all fronts.”

Vice-Director Ye had a talent for staying informed.

Whether it was the Third Hospital, the Provincial People’s Hospital, or even Xinxiang Hospital, nothing slipped past him.

Big hospitals were like rival countries, each sending out their own spies.

Gathering intel had always been key to survival.

Like the Art of War said— Know yourself and your enemy, and you’ll never be defeated.

“Since this patient is here to make trouble, let’s just refuse the live stream or claim his health isn’t up to surgery and turn him away.”

Director Xueyan clearly despised patients who deliberately caused chaos.

She’d been tripped up more than once before.

“What do you think, Zhou?”

Vice-Director Ye turned to Zhou Can for his opinion.

“I…” Zhou Can glanced at Director Xueyan.

“Don’t worry, just speak your mind. We’re only talking things through right now.”

Vice-Director Ye reassured him.

“Honestly, I think we’re out of options. The patient’s already prepped for surgery and in the intervention room. Canceling now would only damage the reputation of Tuyu’s Cardiothoracic Surgery. The fallout could be even worse than simply failing the surgery. If we retract, we look unreliable. But if we proceed and fail, at least we’re not alone— Third Hospital and Renhe Hospital went before us.”

Zhou Can spoke calmly, sharing his thoughts.

While Director Xueyan had more diplomas, she couldn’t match his strategic insight.

For now, Zhou Can had only sat for the graduate entrance exam; results weren’t even out yet. He was, at best, a slightly advanced undergrad.

Whereas Director Xueyan had finished her PhD and was now a professor at Tuyu Medical College.

Academically, Zhou Can wasn’t in quite the same league.

“Zhou made an excellent analysis. Our hospital can only move forward. In my view, we shouldn’t let the patient be the only one streaming. The hospital should record the entire procedure ourselves. If we fail, we admit it. If we succeed, we go all in on publicity and put Cardiothoracic Surgery, and maybe Tuyu Hospital itself, in the national spotlight.”

Vice-Director Ye was even bolder than Zhou Can.

Maybe that’s why leaders need nerves of steel.

They were careful when necessary, but not afraid to go all-in when the time came.

Of course, some leaders went all-in for the wrong reasons— corruption, embezzlement, living wildly— but that’s a different story.

This crisis was both a challenge and an opportunity for Tuyu Hospital’s Cardiothoracic Surgery.

The Third Hospital’s attempt to drag Tuyu down was actually a losing tactic.

If the surgery failed, Tuyu’s reputation would take a hit, but not an irreparable one. If they succeeded, the benefits could be enormous.