Chapter 1190: 1158 Inspecting the Harem (26500 bonus chapter ×10, seeking monthly tickets)

He stepped down and went to check on a patient.

Luo sai hu zi saw Zheng Ren's eyes clearly showing some fear; his face was pale, the urge to vomit hadn't passed, and his speech was a bit faint.

The patient's anesthesia had worn off, vital signs were stable, Zheng Ren knew. The infection site had been cleaned; as long as there was no special situation—like the intestines moving and tying a knot in the abdominal cavity, causing mechanical intestinal obstruction—there wouldn't be a big problem.

This couldn't really be prevented; even Zheng Ren himself could only leave it to fate. The system gave the surgery a 99% completion rating, estimating the remaining 1% was due to this.

Any surgery is like walking a tightrope, because existing science and technology cannot give a clear diagnosis for all diseases nor a treatment with zero complications.

Basic pathophysiology is still being explored, let alone treatment. So saying the medical industry is high-risk is correct.

Not to mention anything else, Wu Hui in a U. S. community hospital can't even complete an appendectomy—where would he reason that?

After glancing at the postoperative orders, there was no problem; routine fluid replacement and symptomatic treatment sufficed. Returning to the Intervention Department with Su Yun, just as they walked into the doctors' office, Zheng Ren sensed the atmosphere was off.

Professor Liu huddled in a corner, looking dejected, while Chang Yue coldly wrote the medical record.

Su Yun smiled, letting him guess correctly.

Actually, there's nothing strange about it—Shen Boshi was also ruthlessly attacked by Chang Yue then, but since he was sent by Director Kong, Chang Yue still gave him some face and couldn't bring herself to speak too bluntly.

But Liu Zewei came here for further study on his own; as a trainee, he still hoped to get some good treatment.

Pointing at Chang Yue, treating him as a professor from the provincial capital? That's just a joke.

Zheng Ren acted as if he hadn't seen, greeted Liu Zewei, then asked: 'How many patients have you taken in?'

'Yesterday you said you'd take them in as soon as you returned, and already we have six patients, waiting for your surgery,' Chang Yue reported coldly, then pulled out a large stack of films, each numbered with recent lab reports from before and after admission.

Having an inpatient doctor like this is good; many things don't need my worry. Zheng Ren held the film bag, thinking.

Although Chang Yue always kept a straight face and didn't smile when talking to patients, I wasn't after her smiling all day. This is fine. Just the bed situation is problematic—I don't know when the community hospital's renovation will finish.

After reviewing the six patients' pre-op images and lab reports, finding no contraindications, Zheng Ren scheduled surgery for tomorrow and went to Director Kong's office.

He knocked and entered, seeing Director Kong wearing reading glasses while looking at a magazine.

'Director Kong, this English magazine must be tiring to read; let me translate it for you,' Zheng Ren said with a smile, closing the door.

'No, I'm used to it.' Director Kong saw Zheng Ren enter, took off his glasses, and asked: 'Is the surgery still going smoothly?'

'Yeah, it's going well. How's the renovation at President Sun's community hospital side?'

'He just called, asking you to have a look when you have time.' Director Kong asked with a smile: 'Do you have time now?'

'Mm.' Zheng Ren glanced; Director Kong was reading that article from Johns Hopkins University's research group on embolizing the gastric artery.

'Director Kong, this article has problems.' Zheng Ren had seen it in the System Library; there was some research, though not detailed, but as the sole peak of the Intervention Discipline, he could grasp it at a glance.

'Oh?' Director Kong stood up, took off his white coat, preparing to go with Zheng Ren to the community hospital to have a look, and asked: 'Where is the problem?'

'It's a first‑in‑human clinical trial; the data are few, the surgical description lacks detail, there's no X‑ray, and the postoperative complication description is insufficient. I feel that if we follow their method, patients will have a long painful period after surgery.' Zheng Ren said.

'What would you do?'

'Do super‑selective embolization as much as possible; the finer the super‑selection, the less blood supply the gastric wall loses, avoiding massive short‑term gastric wall necrosis while achieving the goal.'

'But the vessels will reconstruct.'

'Directly embolize the left gastric and fundic arteries; the vessels will also reconstruct. This surgery is merely palliative, after all it's minimally invasive. The trauma to the patient is not as great as a gastrectomy, and the effect is relatively limited. If it cannot control the diet‑refractory diabetes, the effect is average. But for weight‑loss patients, doing this is still beneficial.'

The two walked and talked; as they passed the doctors' office, Su Yun followed them all the way out of the hospital.

The community hospital is not far from 912; it's a ten‑minute walk.

In the capital where every inch of land is precious, keeping such a community hospital is difficult. President Sun worries that if a real‑estate developer takes a fancy to this place, once it's demolished, he'll be finished.

Grabbing Zheng Lao Ban's straw is like catching the last boat; being able to have a stable future is something he'd be happy to see.

This was Zheng Ren's first time coming to the community hospital.

In a nearby residential compound stood a two‑story building covering several hundred square meters; the yard wasn't large, a bit cramped.

More than half of the community hospital is under renovation, but a small half remains calm.

'Normally, the people getting IV drips here are the local elders; now it's cut off, and Sun Ming feels embarrassed. But this is only the last few days we're open to the outside; afterward it will become Zheng Lao Ban's harem,' Director Kong said with a smile.

Zheng Ren knew that the IV drips here were for conditions that 912 doesn't accept, where antibiotics and certain Chinese patent medicines are unnecessary—minor ailments. In other words, whether they get the drip or not doesn't matter, but some elderly folks stubbornly want a drip, so the community hospital isn't completely idle.

Entering the hospital, the renovation noise was faint; they were just doing simple cleaning.

'The beds have been replaced with new ones; JiaoJiao herself supervised the purchase. The Maidester‑style hand‑crank beds—I checked a sample, they're better than the ones at 912,' Director Kong introduced to Zheng Ren.

Zheng Ren didn't care how the renovation looked; he was there to treat illness. Even if it were turned into a palace, if he couldn't cure the disease, it would all be pointless.

Actually his request is simple: avoid strong renovation smells, just keep it simple, clean, and tidy.

It seems JiaoJiao really put her heart into it; what she did is exactly what Zheng Ren had in mind.

Zheng Ren was satisfied with the construction; after passing the work‑in‑progress area, he headed toward Sun Ming's office.

This side still has a few beds, reserved for locals who need IV drips.

Passing a ward, Zheng Ren saw a woman in her fifties come out of the bathroom, holding an IV bottle in her right hand and a flyer in her left, her left hand slightly lowered.

He paused for a moment, his steps halted, and after 0.72 seconds he stopped completely.

'Boss?' Su Yun looked at Zheng Ren in surprise.

'Stand still!' Zheng Ren ignored Su Yun and shouted loudly at that woman.

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You guys are awesome, so many monthly tickets in a day. Exhausted, I'm going to sleep; see you tomorrow~