Chapter 1709: 1651 Are You Confident

Zhao Wenhua could clearly feel a sudden surge of joy from Zheng Ren and Su Yun.

Is this an illusion? How could there be joy? Could it be that I've unknowingly fallen into someone's trap again?

A string of questions arose in Zhao Wenhua's mind.

"Are you serious?" Zheng Ren asked: "No problem, no problem, then I'll just go ahead and do it."

He didn't wait for Zhao Wenhua's reply, immediately saying: "For the preoperative briefing, I'll tell the patient's family; you just need to say a word at home."

"How so?" Zhao Wenhua, completely unable to follow Zheng Ren's train of thought, asked in astonishment.

"Say you arranged a junior doctor, Professor Zhao." Su Yun, recovering faster, said with a sarcastic tone.

Zhao Wenhua's heart jolted.

Abnormality must be demonic, but where is the problem?

This, he really couldn't figure out.

"Xiao Feng, 1 p. m., there's a surgery. Pulmonary isolation syndrome needs a spring ring." While Zhao Wenhua was stunned, Zheng Ren's call had already gone to Feng Xu Hui, telling him to bring the supplies and rush over.

This is too fast…… Zhao Wenhua simply stopped thinking and followed the prearranged plan.

No matter what trap there is, I won't go into surgery; I'll just watch from below. If there's any risk, I'll shut the surgery down right away.

I'll be fine, the patient will be fine; only Zheng Lao Ban could be in trouble.

Zhao Wenhua isn't stupid; he was a top student back then—how could his IQ be lacking?

According to Su Yun's account, he went and explained the situation to his cousin and cousin‑in‑law, then summoned his distant cousin over to listen to Zheng Ren's preoperative briefing.

The briefing was very detailed; Zheng Ren spoke while drawing a diagram.

The sketch was excellent; after finishing, it resembled a black‑and‑white slice CT three‑dimensional reconstruction—vivid, three‑dimensional, lifelike.

And the preoperative briefing was just as vivid as the sketch; Zhao Wenhua knew this required solid foundations—both his medical expertise behind him and his ability to communicate with patients.

Clearly, when communicating with patients during preoperative briefings his skills are strong, so why does he usually seem like an emotionally clueless good‑for‑nothing?

"Professor Zhao, your call." The nurse ahead answered the phone, greeted him, then went back to work.

Zhao Wenhua reluctantly went to answer the call; he really wanted to listen carefully to Zheng Lao Ban's preoperative briefing.

If there were a chance, getting a copy of the sketch would be even better.

Pfui!

What am I thinking! Zhao Wenhua walked out of the office and immediately realized he'd been lured again.

Clearly he intends to harm me in secret—how could I look at him with admiration?

This is utterly unreasonable!

"Hello, this is Zhao Wenhua."

"Oh, Xiao Fang, Zheng Lao Ban said the diagnosis was wrong—it's pulmonary isolation syndrome, and he's preparing to treat it with interventional surgery."

"1 p. m."

The other end was a bit flustered, but after speaking, Zhao Wenhua exchanged a couple of polite words with Fang Lin before hanging up.

Zhao Wenhua's persona in Room 912 is just that—a refined team‑leading professor. He smiled, thinking his performance should be decent.

But Fang Lin feels grateful toward Zheng Lao Ban; if he saw Zheng Lao Ban fail at the surgery, his emotions might collapse.

Zhao Wenhua thought to himself.

Soon, Fang Lin rushed down in a hurry.

"Zheng Lao Ban, is there a patient with pulmonary isolation syndrome?" He asked immediately upon entering, without bothering with pleasantries.

"Hmm, the images look quite typical." Zheng Ren smiled and asked, "How's your side—busy or not?"

"Busy." Fang Lin laughed.

"Busy my ass—we agreed to treat you to dinner, a month's almost gone and I haven't seen a soul." Yun said disdainfully.

"Hear you say that, Yun Ge'er." Fang Lin spread his hands, "Inpatient Chief, you know full well you're busy as a dog."

Having said that, Fang Lin steered the conversation back to pulmonary isolation syndrome.

"Where's the patient, the images, the chart? I'll go take a look."

"Nothing much to see—go back and read the books yourself." Su Yun said.

"Surgery at 1 p. m.?" Fang Lin asked: "Are we doing arterial angiography? Should I prepare for surgery on my end? You confirm the angiography, and I'll go straight up."

"Nice try." Su Yun said: "The boss said we're doing interventional surgery treatment."

"……" Fang Lin stared for a moment, then said: "Zheng Lao Ban, the vessels are too thick, and there are too many feeding vessels—resection would be safer."

"It's fine." Zheng Ren gave a light smile: "Interventional surgery causes less damage to the patient."

At that, Fang Lin had nothing to say.

Thoracic surgery, even if done with a thoracoscope, requires making several holes. Never mind removing the resected lung lobe—you'd have to add a small incision to take the lobe out, or else crush the lobe and retrieve it through the thoracoscope's channel.

No matter how you do it, the trauma will be greater than with interventional surgery.

They, meanwhile, just need a needle‑sized hole.

If it weren't for worrying about femoral artery bleeding, the patient could walk back after the procedure. Thoracic department—seriously? Doing a daytime pulmonary nodule operation, they hype it up to the skies.

But can interventional surgery actually treat it? Thinking this, Fang Lin amused himself.

Is this doubting Zheng Lao Ban? When did I become so awesome!

They chatted and laughed, arms over shoulders, heading to lunch. Meanwhile Zhao Wenhua's mind raced a hundred ways, unable to fathom what tactics Zheng Lao Ban's medical team would use to screw him over.

Speaking of harm, it could be minor, but it's very likely they intend to kill me.

In the turmoil, time flew by.

He issued an emergency slip; at 12:50, Zhao Wenhua personally took his cousin and cousin‑in‑law to the operating room.

Zheng Ren also followed along to change clothes; in the medical team, aside from Chang Yue not being interested in surgery, everyone else went to watch the excitement.

Pulmonary isolation syndrome, a rare outpatient case, is not easy to encounter.

Was changing clothes, Fang Lin and Old Gu walked in together.

「Xiao Zheng, any patients with pulmonary isolation? 」 Old Gu asked.

「Um. 」 Zheng Ren quickly stood up and said to Old Gu: 「History of coughing up blood, inflammation in both lungs, a typical pulmonary isolation。」

「Where are the films? Let me have a look. 」 Old Gu said.

Zheng Ren fixed the films onto the glass and said, 「Old Gu, have a look. 」

Old Gu put on his magnifying glasses and examined them carefully.

A few Minute later, Old Gu took off his magnifying glasses, rubbed his eyes, and said: 「Indeed, pulmonary isolation。」

「Old Gu, were you brought here by Fang Lin to prepare for the surgery? 」 Su Yun asked respectfully.

「They said there is pulmonary isolation; I happen to have some cases on hand, came to take a look, just to make up the numbers. Xiao Zheng, Su Yun, tell me how you diagnosed it. 」 Old Gu said slowly.

On imaging, it appears as dense but uneven shadows with clear borders, lobulated, possibly accompanied by single or multiple cystic expansions, located in the posterior basal segment of the lower lobe and adjacent to the diaphragm.

The patient has pulmonary isolation combined with pneumonia; while the isolated lung tissue and adjacent normal lung tissue are present, inflammatory infiltrates appear in the lungs; after the inflammation is controlled, the adjacent lung tissue returns to normal, but the shadow of the isolated lung tissue persists.

「Um, basically that's it. 」 Old Gu said, 「In recent years, a new viewpoint has been proposed, saying that embolism can also be treated; are you confident? 」

「Yes! 」 Zheng Ren said firmly.