Chapter 507: Uncharted Territory: Proposing a Bold New Surgery

After listening to the patient’s case, Zhou Can fell silent.

It was just as he suspected—the patient’s nerves had been damaged during surgery.

There aren’t many nerves that can cause paralysis if injured. Most are in the cervical spine and spinal cord. Of course, anything damaging the brain’s central nervous system is a whole different level.

Injuring the nervous center doesn’t just risk paralysis. It could mean instant death.

Thinking about what’s considered the most difficult surgery in the field, Zhou Can guessed it was likely a nerve in the cervical spine, or maybe even the brainstem that had been accidentally hit.

“Mentor, where exactly was the patient’s tumor located?”

“The head!”

Dr. Xu only answered with those two words.

There’s a simple way to gauge surgical risk—the higher up you go, the bigger the danger.

Brain surgery is riskier than neck surgery, which in turn is riskier than spinal surgery.

For any operation that involves nerves, preserving neural and spinal function is always the goal. If the patient is left paralyzed or disabled, the whole point of surgery vanishes.

That rule holds true even for popular endoscopic and minimally invasive surgeries nowadays.

The goal is always to preserve nerves and spinal function. A smaller incision just raises the technical bar—it’s not the main thing.

If a surgery destroys the patient’s nerves, it doesn’t matter how small the cut is, it’s pointless.

He hadn’t expected the patient’s nerve injury to be in the head.

Linking it to what Dr. Xu said about ganglioneuroma…

The only thing Zhou Can could think of was a neuroblastoma.

Of course, there might be other malignant tumors. The world’s a big place. Nothing’s impossible.

Rare diseases keep popping up everywhere.

Especially now, with pesticides overused in farming and chemical pollution all around. Add nuclear radiation into the mix. All of that has made rare aggressive diseases much more common.

If the lesion had been in the spinal cord, maybe, just maybe, Zhou Can could have tried to fix it with his current skills.

But since it was in the head—that was way beyond his abilities.

At the very least, he’d have to get several surgical specialties to level seven before even considering repairing nerves in the cranial center.

“Alright, that’s enough ancient history from me. Now let’s talk about your surgical innovation! I think your approach and surgical plan are highly feasible. But remember, this patient, Chen Zhongzhi, isn’t just anyone. If something goes wrong, that surgical consent form is just a scrap of paper. I urge you to be extremely cautious. If you want to take risks, don’t experiment on someone with a special background. Wait for a regular patient with a similar condition instead.”

Dr. Xu really thought the risk was too high.

He’d seen a lot in his day.

He couldn’t stand to watch his favorite student take on unnecessary risks.

“Mentor, I understand everything you’re saying. But I still want to discuss things directly with the patient and hear what he thinks. I’ll decide on the surgery after that. If he’s not a good fit, I’ll share my plan so he can seek out a doctor with the skills to operate.”

Zhou Can believed that a patient with power and influence would have no trouble finding an excellent cardiac surgeon.

Even though there aren’t official private medical teams in the country yet, if a patient has enough money, plenty of doctors and nurses are willing to work gigs on the side.

And honestly, having a private medical team in mainland China or Hong Kong isn’t unusual anymore.

Plenty of tycoons hire dedicated medical advisors or run their own private teams.

Take the former richest man, for example—he had several private medical groups taking care of him. They handled everything from nutrition and vaccinations to disease prevention, emergency treatment, health management, and even longevity and anti-aging care.

Of course, keeping such a team comes with a hefty price tag.

Top doctors in the industry make at least five million a year each. Leading nurses aren’t cheap either—they rarely take less than two million.

Even if a private medical team only has four or five people, it’s a staggering expense.

As for this Chen Zhongzhi, he didn’t seem to have a private medical team. He traveled with two bodyguards, sure, but he didn’t give off the vibe of someone in the billionaire league.

Dr. Xu saw Zhou Can was determined, realizing there was no persuading him.

All he could do was remind him, “Handling aortic dissection is already a level four major surgery. I don’t even qualify for level four surgeries anymore, much less act as lead surgeon. Officially, you’re just a resident. Regulations say you aren’t even allowed to lead a level two surgery. If you’re serious, you need to ask if any chief physicians in cardiothoracic surgery are willing to take on that risk.”

“Alright, I’ll make sure to consider every angle.”

Zhou Can nodded.

As he stepped out of the operating room, he immediately spotted the patient waiting on a corridor bench.

He really was punctual.

“Dr. Zhou, do you have a moment to talk?”

The man stood up, greeting Zhou Can.

“Come on, let’s go to the doctors’ office.”

Zhou Can led him there while the two bodyguards stayed a dozen meters behind, always watchful, protecting him from a distance.

The man must’ve instructed them not to provide close protection.

“Please, Mr. Chen, have a seat.”

After inviting the man to sit, Zhou Can grabbed the patient’s medical file.

“I’ve reviewed your scans and test reports. If you’re worried about the risks of aortic replacement, there’s another, more complex surgical option worth considering. But no one’s tried it before. There are many unknowns and risks. Let me explain it to you.”

Zhou Can didn’t hide anything.

With patients of high status, being upfront is best.

“Go on, I’d love to hear it!”

Hearing there was a way that might avoid an aortic replacement, the man couldn’t hide his excitement.

A smile crept across his face.

Zhou Can didn’t beat around the bush. He laid out his idea step by step, using diagrams to walk through the surgical plan.

To call this plan especially complicated was an exaggeration.

But compared to straightforward aortic replacement, it was definitely more complex.

After Zhou Can finished explaining, the man didn’t respond immediately.

He fell silent, thinking it over.

“Can you tell me the pros and cons of doing it this way?”

After a long pause, the man looked up at Zhou Can.

“The benefit is you don’t need to stop your heart. So there’s no risk of paralysis or multiple organ failure from blood deprivation. The incision will be much smaller than a full aortic replacement. Plus, your aorta barely needs to be touched—we’ll just build the bypass, then place a customized long stent. The downside? The surgery is a lot more complicated, and no one’s ever tried it, at least as far as I know. There are a lot of unknowns.”

After a moment, Zhou Can continued, “One more thing: traditional replacement only needs one artificial vessel. This option requires a bypass from the end of your aorta, and at least five branch vessels connected at different points.”

No matter how good the production or materials are these days, an artificial vessel is still a foreign body.

That means there’s always a risk.

If it eventually ruptures or breaks, it could be a disaster.

And while allergic reactions to artificial vessels are rare, even a flawless operation can’t make it truly fuse with your own blood vessels.

Time doesn’t change that.

Using your own blood vessels for a bypass avoids the problem completely.

As long as the operation’s a success, the blood vessel becomes a living, integrated part of you.

But an artificial vessel is always lifeless.

That’s a big deal.

It’s why, in major repairs, surgeons avoid artificial vessels if they can—sometimes they’ll go through the trouble of harvesting veins from the leg just for a true repair.

Using your own veins is better both for avoiding rejection and for long-term stability.

Of course, in theory, the life span of an artificial vessel outlasts the person using it.

So there’s basically no need to worry about outliving your replacement.

“Dr. Zhou, this is a really unique, imaginative surgical plan. I think it’s worth the risk. When can we schedule the surgery?”

After careful deliberation, the man found himself drawn to Zhou Can’s proposal.

He was clearly ready to go ahead with it.

Doctors can only recommend a course of treatment. In the end, the choice rests with the patient.

“Since this is a level four major surgery, I’ll need to discuss it with the chief physicians of our hospital’s cardiothoracic department before getting back to you. Or, if you prefer, you can look for surgeons right here in Magic City. Anyone capable of traditional aortic replacement would be qualified to attempt this as well.”

This was Zhou Can’s gentle way of nudging the patient to seek help elsewhere.

It wasn’t defensive medicine, just honesty—the operation was beyond his current abilities.

For anything like this, he’d have to involve Director Xue, Director Le, or one of the others.

He himself was willing to shoulder risks, but since he wasn’t senior enough, he didn’t even qualify to take that responsibility.

In the end, liability would fall squarely on the surgeon officially in charge.

It was possible nobody would want to take that on.

Sending the patient home to Magic City for treatment might actually be wisest.

“No, no—I want to have the surgery here. How about this: you check with the chief physicians in cardiothoracic for me, and I’ll wait for your answer.”

The man insisted on staying at Tuyu Hospital.

Most likely, that had a lot to do with yesterday’s livestream. In his mind, Tuyu Hospital was now the leading name in cardiothoracic surgery.

The higher up people go, the more ‘set in their ways’ they get.

They’ve seen every trick and rule in the book.

That makes them more likely to trust conclusions drawn from personal observation.

“Thank you for putting your trust in our hospital. I’ll go check for you right away!”

“I’ll go with you, so you don’t have to run back and forth! Don’t worry, I’ll just wait outside while you talk—I won’t follow you into the office.”

The man’s thoughtfulness left Zhou Can with a favorable impression.

He figured his evening rounds and dinner would have to wait.

First he’d see about the patient’s case.

“Can!”

A voice called out.

Zhou Can turned to see Su Qianqian standing not far away, carrying a thermal food container. She’d brought him dinner.

“Sorry, my girlfriend came to drop off dinner. I’ll just go meet her for a moment.”

He quickly explained to the patient, then hurried over.

“I’ve got a patient right now, and I need to discuss with the senior doctors whether we can admit him. How about you just give me the food box, and I’ll eat when things calm down? You and Wei Fang should head on home for now!”

Today, Zhou Can caught a certain sparkle in Su Qianqian’s eyes—soft and sweet as spring water.

Now that her kidney disease was finally cured, they could get married. He was sure she was already daydreaming about their wedding. More than ever, she was now by his side as his fiancée.

It had definitely changed her outlook.

A girlfriend and a wife—there’s a huge difference between the two.

“Promise me you won’t get so busy that you forget to eat! I’m heading off. Bye! And be careful getting home tonight!”

She wasn’t anything like those clingy girls.

At work, she never interrupted Zhou Can, nor would she ever act needy or demanding.

Having a considerate wife is truly a wonderful thing.

Once, a scholar who studied society summed it up well. People on the lowest rung marry to carry on the family line. The middle class marry to support each other and grow stronger together. The elite seek well-matched partners—someone who’s at least their equal, and a true companion.

Zhou Can and Su Qianqian sat somewhere between middle and upper class.

No doubt about it—he was lucky and blessed.

“Mr. Chen, let’s go!”

After watching Su Qianqian walk away, Zhou Can called the patient to head for cardiothoracic surgery.

“I thought about treating you to dinner tonight, but I guess we’ll have to save it for another time. You’ve got a girlfriend who loves you and checks every box—makes me a little jealous,” Chen Zhongzhi said, straightforward and sincere.

Chen Zhongzhi’s attitude had definitely warmed up after Zhou Can introduced such a new surgical plan.

You could clearly feel the patient trusted him much more.

“She does treat me well. You don’t have to be envious, though—I’m sure your own wife is even more incredible.”

It really wasn’t empty flattery.

For someone with power and influence, finding a wife is easy.

There are plenty of women lining up for that chance.

That means they have the luxury of being picky. For many successful people, marriage is more about finding the one-in-a-thousand, or even one-in-ten-thousand match.

“My ex-wife and I have been divorced for ages. Anyway, let’s not talk about unhappiness.”

The patient let out that little detail, then waved his hand, dropping the subject.

When they reached the cardiothoracic department, Zhou Can’s luck held.

Directors Xueyan and Le were still there, meeting with several others in the conference room to discuss challenging cases.

When she saw Zhou Can enter, Director Xueyan grinned. “You’re in early today! Heard about our new complex cases in cardio and came over to help out, I bet?”

“You have no idea, Dr. Zhou. After last night’s livestream, our cardiothoracic outpatient clinic nearly got overwhelmed. That broadcast was huge!” Director Le chimed in.

“He’s still carrying a lunch box—and it looks pretty heavy. I’d say he hasn’t even eaten yet,” Associate Director He added, sharp-eyed as ever.

“Well… I had no idea things were so busy here in cardiothoracic. Actually, I’m just here to add to the chaos. One patient with aortic dissection traveled here all the way from Magic City just to find me…”

A little embarrassed, Zhou Can shared why he’d come.

He really hadn’t expected such a surge of patients.

The influence of yesterday’s livestream was honestly shocking.

Its impact was still growing, and this was only the first wave of new patients.

If Tuyu’s cardiothoracic team could seize this opportunity and hang on…

They’d probably be the top team in cardiothoracic surgery for a long time. Prestige on that level goes a long way. More and more patients would seek them out.