Chapter 1779: and translation of chapter title

Mao Chi saw Zheng Ren through the lead glass.

I don't know why, but the moment he saw Zheng Ren, all his nervousness and anxiety vanished.

He stopped stepping on the line, the airtight lead door opened, Zheng Ren walked in quickly and said, "Director Mao, the interventional procedure can't get it out; it's stuck inside."

Hearing Zheng Ren's judgment, Mao Chi let out a deep sigh.

Actually he thought the same, but after all he still wanted to try, yet he couldn't perform heart surgery.

"Zheng Lao Ban, you're here?" Mao Chi asked tentatively.

"Um, hurry up, the patient's condition is deteriorating fast; if we delay a few more hours, severe cerebral hypoxia could lead to cerebral edema. Severe brain herniation would be even harder to explain." Zheng Ren said.

Mao Chi nodded.

"Lao He, go check the extracorporeal circulation."

"Su Yun, check the other equipment."

"Yi Ren, we need to split the sternum."

Zheng Ren tilted his head to look at the patient's ECG monitor; orders were issued one after another, and the medical team moved in an orderly manner.

"Director Mao, are you here to save the platform?" Someone patted Mao Chi's shoulder and asked.

Mao Chi turned his head, saw it was Director Luo, and he was stunned for a moment.

What time is it now? How could a Xiao Hua Nei Ke person like Director Luo come running over?

"Director Luo, why are you so idle today?" Mao Chi asked.

"Take off your lead clothing, go out and rest a while; your hat is soaked." Director Luo didn't answer his question, but said half-jokingly, half-seriously.

Seeing Zheng Ren and the whole medical team busy, Mao Chi let out a breath, tore off his sterile gown, was about to turn and leave, when Zheng Ren suddenly said, "Director Mao, the patient's family, pre-op communication, go take a look."

His tone was no longer as polite as before.

Mao Chi wasn't angry; he knew Boss Zheng had already entered emergency rescue mode, with everything centered on the patient's life.

Leaving the operating room, Mao Chi picked up his phone and started contacting Professor Zhang.

He was still downstairs communicating with the patient's family, explaining the condition. Probably there are some complications; otherwise he wouldn't still be stuck after twenty Minute.

But there's nothing to be done; who made him encounter this? If it were me, I'd surely be frazzled.

Shou Bing, the worst thing is a second operation.

Especially when the pre-op explanation to the patient's family went well, minimally invasive Shou Bing could solve the problem with just a needle puncture.

But not only did it not solve the problem, they also had to split the sternum for external Shou Bing; who wouldn't be anxious if they were the patient's family?

In such a situation, domestic doctors can't afford to be stern; no matter how much they're beaten or scolded, as long as the patient survives, everything can be discussed.

Shou Bing carries risks; pre-op informed consent is given, and as long as the patient lives, the family generally understands. But if the patient doesn't make it, that's another story.

Not to mention premeditated medical disturbances; this is after all a special case. Normally, when ordinary patients' families face unknown danger to a loved one, their emotions collapse and subsequent events become completely uncontrollable.

Thinking of this, Mao Chi zoned out.

Otherwise, more and more Doctors are going abroad and not returning, where doctors enjoy high pay, low workload, and light responsibility—what's there to say?

Not to mention anything else, just take House MD—if he were in China he'd have been beaten to death countless times; not even the second season, not even the second episode of the first season would he make it; the first episode would already have him sued to the point of being frazzled.

"Director, have you come down?" a suppressed excited voice came from the other end of the phone, excitement mixed with a hint of nervousness.

"Is it convenient to talk?"

Professor Zhang's side was silent, with a few thumping sounds heard; obviously he knew what had happened and was looking for a quiet place.

"Director, Shou Bing..." after a few dozen seconds, Professor Zhang's trembling voice came through.

"The interventional surgery failed; the device is lodged in the atrial fold and can't be removed." Mao Chi said: "Zheng Lao Ban has arrived, preparing to split the sternum for external Shou Bing."

"Zheng..."

"You have no other choice; hurry up and explain to the patient's family. If you don't know how to write the pre-op Shou Bing explanation, ask your thoracic surgery people." Mao Chi regained the decisive, domineering aura unique to a senior director, speaking coldly.

Time seemed to have turned back a few years, and the place returned to Hospital 912.

Zhang Jiaoshou instinctively said: "Okay, Director, I'll go right away."

Mao Chi hung up the phone.

"Director Mao, you really have it tough." Director Luo laughed.

The two sat on the chairs in the operating area; Mao Chi lifted his sterile gown, hastily wiped the sweat from his forehead, and gave a wry smile: "There's no way about it—after all, I used to be his subordinate."

"Or maybe you have sharp eyes, finding Zheng Lao Ban to solve this. Not saying whether the Shou Bing can be done, I... I don't understand interventional surgery; just now when we came, Zheng Lao Ban glanced at your process of taking out the large device and immediately judged that the interventional surgery couldn't remove it."

Mao Chi nodded.

"This person—what he can do, what he knows how to do, what's appropriate to do, not being rigid about it—actually achieving that is quite difficult." Director Luo said.

"How did you come, Director Luo?" Mao Chi didn't want to talk about this; he felt uneasy, afraid that Zheng Lao Ban might also fail to get the Shou Bing done.

He also feared the patient's family wouldn't agree, and then the emergency department would just go ahead and do the Shou Bing.

Having brought Zheng Lao Ban in, I can't possibly end up putting Zheng Lao Ban inside. All the trouble, damn it, is still to come.

"It's not that we just happened to encounter Zheng Lao Ban having a Massachusetts consultation for a patient diagnosed with cyclic vomiting syndrome, caused by inhaling burnt electrical waste gas, triggering abdominal pain, nausea, and vomiting..."

"Isn't there a diagnosis?"

"This time the flare-up was especially severe; Massachusetts General Hospital sent over the medical records, asking Zheng Lao Ban to take a look." Director Luo laughed.

Massachusetts General Hospital, take a look……

Those two words deeply stabbed Director Mao's heart.

Is Zheng Lao Ban really that awesome?

"The case, what's your opinion?" Director Mao pretended not to care, masking his feelings, and asked casually.

"I think it's serotonin syndrome, but Zheng Lao Ban rejected it." Director Luo had no displeasure, just speaking frankly.

Mao Chi looked at Director Luo with slight surprise, hoping to find a hint of displeasure in his eyes and movements.

But he was soon disappointed.

What did Zheng Lao Ban diagnose?

They were still discussing it; Zheng Lao Ban had ruled out all possibilities, saying it might just be a thyroid issue, when your call came through.

Mao Chi recalled when he made the call, the other side was in a noisy discussion about the condition, and he vaguely remembered Zheng Lao Ban saying they should do an ultrasound.

He Doubt is a thyroid problem?

Director Luo nodded and said, "Endocrine diseases aren't my specialty, but many symptoms indicate it could be an endocrine system disorder. Doing an ultrasound is also appropriate."

……

Mao Chi froze.

Abdominal pain, nausea, vomiting—just these six words, I never would have thought it could be a thyroid problem.

Impossible!