Chapter 576: The Most Vicious Praise: Anesthesia That’s ‘Too Effective’

Why is ‘repeat customer’ put in quotes? In industries like catering or hairdressing, having loyal patrons is a dream come true.

Hospitals, however, are a unique case. They’re one of the few places where repeat customers are frowned upon.

The hospital itself doesn’t mind too much, though it might tarnish their reputation. It’s the patients and their families who dread it.

After all, if a patient gets treated here and falls ill again just days later, questions arise. What kind of treatment did your hospital provide? Did you leave something unresolved on purpose? Is your medical skill subpar? Are you using fake drugs on us?

When Zhou Can refers to a ‘repeat customer,’ he means a patient who was treated here before and, impressed by the skill and service, recommended the hospital to friends or family in need.

Lately, though, he’s noticed a sharp decline in these kinds of ‘repeat customers.’

It’s a clear sign that the Emergency Department’s reputation is slipping.

As the saying goes, the best doctors treat illness before it strikes, the average treat it as it emerges, and the worst only deal with it after it’s taken hold.

As an exceptional doctor, Zhou Can has always believed prevention is better than cure.

Now, spotting early warning signs in the Emergency Department Operating Room, he knows waiting until things completely fall apart to act would be a grave mistake.

The best approach is to act decisively, identify the problem immediately, and resolve it without delay.

He’s been the deputy head of the Operating Room for a while now. While his surgical talent and skill continue to shine, his management abilities still leave much to be desired.

When he was exceptionally promoted to this role, it stirred dissatisfaction among some colleagues.

Fortunately, a few nurses under his command pulled off a bold move to make an example out of Dr. Fu Chachun, silencing any further dissent.

But as time passed, unfavorable rumors about Zhou Can began to circulate within the department.

The most damaging narrative painted him as someone who could only perform surgeries and treat patients, unfit for management or research.

This was a vicious attack, aimed straight at his core.

For a genius like Zhou Can, the harshest insults aren’t about his medical skills or character—those are beyond reproach. His surgical prowess and diagnostic ability are evident to all.

His noble ethics are widely recognized by medical staff, patients, and families alike.

The most poisonous jab, then, is to praise him for only being good at treating patients.

If this label sticks, it’ll haunt him forever. No matter how hard he works, he’d remain just an ordinary doctor, at best a Chief Physician.

Higher administrative or management positions would forever be out of reach.

As for who’s spreading such venomous gossip, Zhou Can has no desire to investigate. It’d be nearly impossible to trace anyway.

With nearly a hundred staff in the Emergency Department, planting irresponsible rumors is all too easy. As the saying goes, good news stays quiet, but bad news spreads like wildfire.

Talk of Tuyu’s rising star lacking management skills doesn’t even need deliberate fueling. Those green with envy are more than happy to spread it far and wide.

The darkest side of human nature is the inability to stand seeing others succeed beyond themselves.

Zhou Can’s career has been a smooth ascent, a dazzling pearl others can only gaze up at.

Even his two close medical assistants, despite their tight bond with him, must feel flickers of envy or jealousy in quiet moments or when they see him shining so brightly.

Yet their deep emotional ties and intertwined interests mean they’d never act against him. When Zhou Can is attacked, they instinctively defend him.

The same can’t be said for other colleagues in the department.

There’s always a small clique of two-faced individuals, sweet on the surface but sharp as knives underneath.

The best way to shatter malicious rumors isn’t to argue, but to prove them wrong with actions.

Discovering issues in the Operating Room ahead of time is a golden opportunity for Zhou Can to break this narrative.

He doesn’t immediately announce that he’s found a problem in the Operating Room.

Broadcasting an issue the moment it’s spotted doesn’t showcase high management skill. It’s just fleeting showboating that might make higher-ups question if he’s got a brain full of mush.

True leaders carry thunder in their chest while their face remains calm as a still lake.

After spotting a problem, they stay composed, quietly digging deep to understand it, pinpointing the root cause before crafting a solution. That’s the mark of skilled management.

To uncover the root of the issue, Zhou Can knows he must start with the surgical patients.

This task isn’t overly complicated.

Hospitals conduct regular follow-ups with most surgical patients.

There’s at least one follow-up, sometimes two or three if needed.

For instance, in Orthopedics, patients who’ve had fracture surgery are typically called after three months, then again at six months or a year.

The goal is to track recovery progress. If anything seems off, they’re reminded to return for a check-up.

Zhou Can is on familiar terms with most of the girls at the Emergency Nurse Station.

Many greet him warmly as ‘Brother Can,’ their tone brimming with closeness.

After his shift, Zhou Can heads straight to Ye Tingting, who’s been promoted to Head Nurse and taken on a supervisory role.

After she was injured by a frenzied family member, the hospital recognized it as a workplace injury.

Since her physical condition declined post-injury, they didn’t keep her in high-intensity frontline work. Instead, she was gradually moved to a second-line role, taking on some managerial tasks.

Why call it moving ‘up’ to the second line rather than ‘retreating’ to it?

Frontline nursing is grueling, with low pay to boot. Shifting to the second line means lighter duties, often just directing regular nurses, while earning a noticeably higher salary.

So, nurses are eager to make that transition to the second line.

They even call it a promotion.

And in truth, it is—a step up with a raise.

But second-line positions are limited. Hospitals can’t afford to keep idle staff. Many frontline nurses, seeing no hope for promotion by their mid-thirties, often switch careers or become full-time homemakers.

Most savvy women still crave a career of their own, unwilling to rely on a man for money.

Otherwise, as they age and lose their youthful charm, they’re left with little security.

Without a personal career, their standing in the family often diminishes.

Most opt to change fields and re-enter the workforce.

Ye Tingting’s rise to the second line was a stroke of fortune amid misfortune.

Speaking of her promotion, Zhou Can played a significant role.

Climbing to the second line is no easy feat. Unless a nurse secures a deputy senior title, it’s a tough road. And how many nurses actually achieve that rank?

Only a rare few.

For most, reaching Head Nurse is the ceiling.

Whether a nurse at the station moves to the second line largely depends on Head Nurse Niu Lan’s final say.

Once, when Zhou Can visited Deputy Director Lu at Provincial People’s Hospital after his injury from a fall, Director Zhu entrusted him with 500 yuan to pass along.

Since the money was left at the nurse’s desk, Head Nurse Niu naturally learned of it.

From then on, she assumed Zhou Can had a close connection with Director Zhu and began treating him with extra care.

With this relationship, Zhou Can’s words carried weight with Head Nurse Niu.

Seeing Ye Tingting weakened after her injury and recovery, he casually mentioned it to Head Nurse Niu.

Not long after, Ye Tingting joyfully told Zhou Can she no longer had to rush between the Observation Room and Resuscitation Room. Chief Niu had reassigned her to backend patient follow-up and maintenance work.

At first, Ye Tingting didn’t know Zhou Can had put in a word for her.

Later, to express her gratitude, she treated Head Nurse Niu to dinner and gifted some hometown specialties. That’s when she learned from Head Nurse Niu that Zhou Can had spoken on her behalf.

Head Nurse Niu even reassured her to settle into the patient follow-up role for now. If she wasn’t satisfied, a better second-line position could be arranged later.

Ye Tingting nearly fainted from happiness on the spot.

A Head Nurse like her, with no connections or backing, reaching the second line was already a miracle she’d never dared dream of.

Now, not only had she made it, but Head Nurse Niu hinted at even better second-line roles down the line if a suitable vacancy opened up.

Ye Tingting’s heart swelled with gratitude. Zhou Can had been incredibly kind to her.

He’d helped her so much without even mentioning it, expecting nothing in return. That was true kindness.

From then on, Ye Tingting became one of Zhou Can’s staunchest allies in the Emergency Department.

Sometimes, building a solid foundation in a department or organization happens bit by bit like this.

Once you slowly gather a few loyal supporters, your position in that unit becomes rock-solid.

Zhou Can’s standing in both the Emergency Department and Cardiothoracic Surgery is deeply rooted.

His core supporters aren’t just one or two, but a whole group.

“Tingting, still not off work yet?”

Zhou Can strolled over to greet Ye Tingting.

Even at this hour, she was diligently organizing patient records. Her job was much lighter than that of frontline nurses, but the workload was still substantial. It demanded patience and meticulous care.

New patients admitted to the Emergency Department each day needed prompt registration.

Of course, there’s no need for manual ledgers anymore—just copy and organize the data into spreadsheets on the computer.

Then she reviews the follow-up list to ensure every patient due for a check-in is contacted on time. If recovery is going well, she marks it off. If there are issues, she carefully notes them down. Some cases even need to be escalated to a doctor for further handling.

“Oh, it’s you!”

Ye Tingting looked up to see Zhou Can and broke into a radiant smile, as if greeting a close family member.

“I need a copy of the surgical patient follow-up data from the past three months, especially for those who weren’t satisfied with their experience.”

With her, Zhou Can didn’t need to beat around the bush. He got straight to the point.

“No problem. Should I print it out or send it to your email?”

Her response was brisk and cheerful.

“Send it to my email, thanks!”

Zhou Can figured checking and analyzing it via email would be more convenient. He could always print it later if needed.

“I’m off to do rounds now. Just send it over when you’re done. Appreciate it!”

He was a busy man, with a mountain of tasks piling up every day.

“No need to be so polite with me. You’re making it weird!”

She playfully chided him, a hint of mock annoyance in her tone.

Zhou Can just chuckled and waved as he headed off to do his rounds.

Inside the Emergency Department’s inpatient ward, Zhou Can’s rounds this time were different from usual. He paid extra attention.

Normally, with so many beds and limited time, he’d only ask a couple of quick questions to patients in stable condition before moving to the next bed.

Only when he encountered someone with an unusual condition would he dive into a thorough check.

This method of prioritizing based on urgency is common among Chief Physicians and Associate Chief Physicians.

Like Zhou Can, they’re swamped. Even if they only do rounds once or twice a week, it’s still a significant burden. Regular patients might never even see a Chief Physician from admission to discharge.

Hospitals operate on a three-tier responsibility system.

Issues interns or trainees can’t handle get reported to the Resident Doctor.

If the Resident Doctor can’t resolve it, it’s escalated to the Attending Physician.

If the issue persists at that level or there’s uncertainty about treatment, it’s passed up to an Associate Chief Physician or Chief Physician.

This tiered system allows Chief Physicians to carve out more time and energy to focus on tricky, high-difficulty cases or critically ill patients.

When Zhou Can reached Bed 1 in the Emergency Surgical Department, he didn’t just ask a few routine questions and move on like usual.

Instead, he walked from the foot of the bed to its side.

“Miss, I recall you had surgery to separate fused toes, right?”

“You’ve got a sharp memory.”

She nodded, a bit flattered by his attention.

Most inpatients know Zhou Can as a renowned doctor in the Emergency Department. Patients and families love to gossip—men and women alike.

They don’t need anyone to tell them which doctor is skilled or who’s the chief. They figure it out on their own, clear as day.

“Is today the second day after your surgery?”

“Yes! The surgery was yesterday morning around eleven. I’d hoped you could perform it yourself, but the nurse who admitted me said your schedule was fully booked. She assured me it’s a simple procedure, and any doctor here could handle it just fine. Since Tuyu is a well-known hospital in the province with a reputation for excellent care, I agreed.”

Her gaze toward Zhou Can was filled with respect.

Though she felt a slight pang of regret that Zhou Can couldn’t personally operate on her, it was clear she remained optimistic.

She looked to be around eighteen or nineteen years old.

“Thank you for trusting our hospital and for placing so much faith in me. Have you noticed anything unusual post-surgery? Any severe pain or the like?”

Zhou Can always felt a surge of joy when patients specifically sought him out for surgery.

Their heavy trust was the greatest encouragement he could receive.

Many patients he’d operated on didn’t look down on him for his youth or for not being a chief or professor. After recovering well, they’d recommend Zhou Can to friends and family if they were pleased with the results.

Building a reputation like this is something every doctor cherishes.

“Well… no severe pain, thankfully. It’s just that my right toe still feels a bit numb. Your major hospital is really something else—the anesthesia works incredibly well. I’ve heard from others that pain usually kicks in within five or six hours after surgery.”

The young patient was naive, assuming the lingering numbness meant the anesthesia was exceptionally effective.

Her words, though, sent a chill down Zhou Can’s spine.

Had he not stopped to ask in detail, she might not have mentioned this until discharge.

“Normally, anesthesia doesn’t last this long. Let me take a look.”

He carefully unwrapped the gauze around the patient’s foot.

This type of surgery separates toes that have grown fused together. The difficulty varies based on the extent of the deformity.