Chapter 186: Many A Little Makes A Mickle

Chapter 186: Many A Little Makes A Mickle

In the operating theater, resuscitation was proceeding in an orderly manner.

Both the thoracic and general surgeons were busy performing the operation at the same time; the atmosphere was tense.

Generally, no doctors were willing to do such a thing.

The surgery could have a significant impact on Fang Lin or even exceed his physical capacity.

However,

There was no other way.

Zheng Ren’s insistence was merely one factor in proceeding with thoracoabdominal surgery. The bigger deciding factor was the 500mL of dark red blood that had been instantly drained into the drainage chamber.

The drainage chamber had filled in mere minutes, requiring replacement.

Continuous blood drainage indicated a serious condition—a few large arteries had been damaged. Otherwise, there would not have been so much blood accumulated in the cavity.

Performing thoracoabdominal surgery and stopping bleeding simultaneously would have a profound effect on Fang Lin’s physical state.

If the procedures were done successively, massive blood loss would certainly kill Fang Lin.

Adults also had to answer multiple-choice questions when the time came.

When Zheng Ren had asked the nurse to convey the message, the thoracic surgeon was already prepared to operate, but the doctors were still hesitant.

Everyone hoped that the blood drained would peter out in the next moment.

Everyone hoped that blood pressure would elevate in the next moment.

However, their hopes were in vain.

Zheng Ren was the first witness and an experienced doctor, so his opinion was valuable and had to be taken into account.

Thus, after the nurse conveyed his message, no one hesitated further and the surgery was prepared with haste.

3 minutes and 33 seconds later, the deputy chief consultant of the thoracic surgery department took over the chief surgeon’s position while the anesthesiologist switched to single-lung ventilation, collapsing the right lung for surgery.

Everyone gave their best. Whether the patient would survive now depended solely on fate.

At the 13th minute and 54th second, several medical personnel returned with fresh frozen plasma and red blood cells, thawed using their body temperature, and hung the bags on the infusion stand.

One after another, the blood bags were soon depleted via pressurized infusion and replaced with new ones. The empty bags were set aside neatly.

These bags would be checked and verified again after the surgery was over.

The cold and stifling atmosphere permeated every breath of air in the operating theater.

No one told funny stories or cracked dirty jokes.

At the 15th minute and 15th second, chief consultants of relevant departments rushed over for intraoperative consultation.

At the 18th minute and 23rd second, the chief of the medical administration division left his home with a gloomy face, as if a volcano was about to erupt from within him.

However, instead of losing control of his emotions, he started directing the resuscitation to ensure coordination between various departments.

Even though it was a weekend, the incident had spread like wildfire throughout the entire hospital. Everyone in each department went all out, no matter how insignificant their efforts could be, to save this young doctor with a bright future ahead of him.

It was like ten thousand tributaries feeding into a river[1].

It was a song that stirred the heart.

At the 43rd minute and 5th second, the ruptured bronchial artery and diaphragm, as well as the entry wound on the right lower lobe of the lung, were sutured. After confirming the absence of active bleeding spots, the surgeon began to close the thoracic cavity.

At the 57th minute and 27th second, the liver was sutured, the abdominal cavity irrigated and a surgical drain inserted.

The tense, dark atmosphere lifted slightly.

The patient’s systolic pressure had returned to 70mmHg and blood oxygen saturation was maintained at 97% via pure oxygen ventilation. Several episodes of atrial fibrillation had been corrected by the anesthesiologist through medication, but now the patient was suffering sinus tachycardia of 147 beats per minute.

Fang Lin’s condition remained unsatisfactory, but he had at least managed to survive despite severe trauma.

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More than a dozen medical staff escorted Fang Lin out of the operating theater in an orderly manner. The thoracic surgeon and the chief consultant of the general surgery department went to their locker room and removed their surgical caps and masks, which were drenched in sweat.

Only then did they feel relief and their nerves calm.

“He survived,” said the deputy chief consultant of the thoracic surgery department as he recalled the incident, still terrified.

This was especially because he had rushed over and seen a man in casual wear kneeling on the stretcher trolley until the patient’s transferral to the operating table; the astonishment in his heart had persisted until now.

“Yes, first-aid measures were provided just in time without any delay in subsequent treatment. Fang Lin has really been pulled back from the brink of death.” The chief consultant of the general surgery department lit a cigarette and passed it over.

Chronic smokers got along well with each other.

The spicy tobacco quickly neutralized their anxiety and fatigue from resuscitation, and they fell into silence after expressing their thoughts.

The deputy chief consultant of the thoracic surgery department felt better after the cigarette burned to its end, asking, “The young man who had performed an emergency laparotomy for hemostasis must be a doctor too. He reacted without the slightest hesitation; that’s a good quality.”

“I heard that he is a young doctor from Sea City in the northeast.” The chief consultant of the general surgery department smiled and said, “Accurate diagnosis with appropriate first-aid measures. He is indeed a good man.”

“Was he compressing the porta hepatis throughout the journey?”

“Yes.”

“Was there any tissue necrosis or rupture?”

The hepatic hilum was an important but fragile structure. Compared to the use of hemostatic forceps to obstruct blood flow during surgery, it was at least ten times more difficult to achieve hemostasis using only one’s bare hands.

In addition, care had to be taken not to cut off blood supply for too long to prevent hepatic necrosis under such dangerous circumstances.

Furthermore, it would have been difficult to maintain a fixed posture on a stretcher trolley being pushed at full speed. Had there been a laceration in the hepatic hilum, the patient would have been disabled forever.

Even though the surgery had been completed, the deputy chief consultant of the thoracic surgery department still subconsciously asked his question despite knowing the answer.

“It was well-protected,” the chief consultant of the general surgery department said, “I think that young man had intermittently supplied blood to the liver with precise control. An excessive supply would have caused leakage through the wound into the cavity, and it would not have helped with blood loss. By the way, I noticed a needle thoracostomy when I arrived at the operating theater just now; did he have tension pneumothorax?”

“Yes,” the deputy chief consultant of the thoracic surgery department said, still shaken, “Hemorrhaging was a small issue, but a tension pneumothorax could have cost him his life within ten minutes. Fang Lin is really lucky to be transferred to the ICU alive.”

“In that case, I’m starting to develop an interest in that young man.” The chief consultant of the general surgery department smiled and took out his phone to make a call.

“It’s me. About the young doctor who has performed emergency hemostasis just now, let me know his location and try to get some information about his background.

“By the way, transfer him to a deluxe room.

“Inform the matron that it’s my order.”

After he hung up, the deputy chief consultant of the thoracic surgery department grumbled, obviously perplexed, “It was just a resuscitation, is this really necessary? Your doctoral students can’t graduate this year, and besides, Fang Lin is under the thoracic surgery department.”

“You say this as if you can demand a transferral to a deluxe room at will.” The chief consultant of the general surgery department smiled. “I didn’t mean to make him stay anyway. I’m just doing my part by providing a better environment so that he can recover soon.”

They chatted for a while before changing their attire and returning to their respective clinics.

The terrible incident could not stop their clinics from operating as usual.

The chief consultant of the general surgery department’s phone suddenly rang. He accepted the call.

“Yes, any news?

“…

“Okay, got it.”

His expression was strange as he hung up.

The deputy chief consultant of the thoracic surgery department asked, confused, “What’s wrong?”

“Did you know that the institute has been engaged in a research project recently?”

“There is scientific research every year, but I’ve never paid attention to them since it has nothing to do with the thoracic surgery department.”

“That young man from Sea City had been invited to participate in scientific research…”

“Hiss…”

[1] A Chinese song 万涓成水,汇流成河, also can be understood as “many a little makes a mickle”.

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