Chapter 1221: 1186 Boiling Frog in Warm Water (33000 bonus chapter ×23 seeking monthly tickets)

Soon, it was daylight.

But the bright morning light outside the window could not dispel the gloom in Zhao Wenhua's heart.

The patient's condition was still poor, only barely adequate.

Soon the director will make rounds and propose a treatment plan for the patient. Given Director Kong's character, he will surely suggest transferring to thoracic surgery for a thoracoscopic exploration and hemostasis.

Zhao Wenhua felt torn; if he insisted, he could still hold out. But this procedure relies on the patient improving; if, as he imagined, intrathoracic pressure were high and he couldn't stop the bleeding……

He dared not think further.

These matters truly left him torn between two choices, agonizingly indecisive.

Forget it, leave it to fate.

As time passed, the hallway gradually filled with daytime bustle. Doctors and nurses went on duty, changed clothes, and before the shift change made a round of patients.

Zhao Wenhua simply sat dully in the ward, staring blankly at the numbers on the monitor.

Unnoticed, several hours passed, and the systolic pressure on the monitor dropped from 80 mmHg to 70 mmHg.

The decline was slow, and Zhao Wenhua gradually accepted this reality, not noticing it right away.

Boiling a frog in warm water is basically similar to Zhao Wenhua's current situation.

At shift change, Zhao Wenhua didn't participate; he wasn't even aware. After staying up all night, a person in his forties has slowed reactions, and many things can only be done by instinct.

During rounds, he remained seated on the stool, watching the monitor.

Director Kong led the team in; upon entering, he saw Zhao Wenhua exhausted, gazing wistfully at the monitor.

Since Zhao Wenhua missed the handover, Director Kong suspected a problem. When discussing this patient during handover, Kong strengthened his judgment.

After entering, seeing Zhao Wenhua like this, the situation was basically clear.

Director Kong came to learn about the patient's condition, but said nothing at the bedside, merely nodded and left.

Director Kong's examination of the later patients was perfunctory; after all, interventional surgery is minimally invasive, and postoperative fever, nausea, vomiting, and pain are normal, with bleeding emergencies rarely occurring.

The subordinate team-leading professor could handle changes in the condition, so Director Kong didn't need to interject much.

He returned to his office, saw Zheng Ren and Su Yun waiting at the door, smiled, and told Dr. Shen, "Have Professor Zhao come to my office."

After saying that, he opened the door and went in.

"What's up?" Director Kong sat down, smiling as he asked.

"Director Kong, this afternoon Dr. Mehari from Sweden needs to be picked up at the airport—who from the hospital will go?" Zheng Ren didn't speak; it was Su Yun who asked.

"Vice President Yuan will lead the team; we'll all go together," Director Kong said.

Zheng Ren felt the show of force was a bit much; he was slightly unaccustomed to it.

In his view, he should be the one to pick her up, then arrange for her to stay in his own bed or a special ward, hurry to finish the surgery, and quickly discuss the TIPS procedure's progress with Dr. Mehari to see what the old doctor thought.

But staying in an ordinary room beside his own bed was basically impossible; at minimum it would have to be a permitted ward, or perhaps some other place he couldn't imagine.

Just the grand reception made Zheng Ren feel awkward.

However, since the hospital arranged it this way, he couldn't very well complain; if it were really like that, he'd probably not get by.

Seeing Zheng Ren's forced smile, Director Kong said, "Sit down and speak."

"Boss Zheng, this matter is within your capability, so you don't find it a big deal. But the hospital still attaches great importance to it. After all, Dr. Mehari is a leading figure in cardiac disease treatment, a Nobel Prize reviewer, and a person of considerable weight." Director Kong added, "If we didn't take it seriously, there could be negative repercussions."

Zheng Ren thought, "Only if the surgery encounters an accident would there be bad consequences."

But he kept that thought to himself, never voicing it.

"Young man, you need to learn to accept." Director Kong said, "This is also the hospital's care for you. Surgery—no one can guarantee no mishap. If Dr. Mehari were in Sweden and you flew there to operate, it would be fine. But flying here to 912 to perform the surgery, the hospital must also bear the corresponding responsibility and duty."

Zheng Ren chuckled; Director Kong spoke the truth.

As they were speaking, Zhao Wenhua knocked and entered, holding the patient's films.

"Little Zhao, what's up with that patient?" Director Kong leaned back in his chair, his expression grave—quite different from when he had been chatting with Zheng Ren.

"Director, yesterday we did…" Upon entering, Zhao Wenhua saw Zheng Ren and Su Yun, and felt a surge of annoyance. He had intended to tell Director Kong directly to transfer the patient to general thoracic surgery for the operation, but seeing Zheng Ren's honest face made him change his mind for no reason.

He gave a rundown of the condition, repeating it twice at the end; the patient's condition is now stable.

"800 ml drained, now the tube is closed—still considered stable?" Su Yun couldn't help but sneer.

As someone from cardiothoracic surgery, he is extremely sensitive to the amount of closed chest drainage; likewise, he is highly attuned to the patient's cough. He can even judge from the cough how much sputum there is, where it is, and what force to use when tapping the back to let the thick sputum drain smoothly.

Closing the tube means there is too much fresh blood in the pleural cavity; draining it all at once could cause mediastinal flutter and possibly lead to cardiac arrest.

"The patient's blood pressure has stabilized," Zhao Wenhua said coldly.

"Stabilized? I don't see it." Su Yun, having just heard Zhao Wenhua's report, had already sensed some clues.

Zheng Ren made the same judgment, also assessing Zhao Wenhua's hopeful mindset. Could this be gotten away with by luck? It's possible, but not likely.

He pondered a moment, recalled the earlier images, silently stood up, and pulled Su Yun away.

Director Kong felt relieved; Boss Zheng was sensible and wouldn't cause him trouble. He should advise Zhao Wenhua: if there's a problem, solve it—how did this happen? Why have recent surgeries and treatments been so problematic?

"Little Zhao…"

While Director Kong talked with Zhao Wenhua, Zheng Ren and Su Yun left the office and headed toward the ward.

"Boss, that Zhao Wenhua is a coward," Su Yun said contemptuously.

"Let's go look at the patient first," Zheng Ren said steadily, lowering his voice. He had formed an opinion about the patient's condition; a quick glance was merely to get confirmation from the big pig trotter.

Entering the ward, Zheng Ren glanced at the patient. The several diagnoses shown on the system panel were basically what he could imagine. But one diagnosis confirmed his suspicion—rupture of the right 10th intercostal artery.

Indeed, that was it!

It wasn't ordinary venous bleeding; the intercostal artery had ruptured!