Chapter 2077: with translation of chapter title

"It's fine, give another 150mg." Zheng Ren's voice came from the walkie-talkie.

"Turn up the isoproterenol drip even more! Epinephrine, push IV."

Professor Zhong's words were like opening a box, and Zheng Ren began issuing orders one after another.

Most of the people in the operating room were dazed.

This is the weakness of specialty hospitals.

Patients from all over the country flocked in, and the specialty hospitals in Di Du were overcrowded. It's normal to be selective; those in poor condition or suspected of risk are sent to comprehensive hospitals like Xiehe.

But once the patient presents with this situation, simple cases can still be handled; complex ones require inviting external experts for consultation, surgery, or even transfer.

However, there are benefits to doing this—namely, a huge boost in efficiency. After all, we still have comprehensive hospitals like Xiehe and 912, so what's there to fear?

Lin Yuanzhang looked around and asked in a low voice, "What does Professor Zhong mean?"

"The half-life of Cadralong drug metabolism is relatively long; Zheng Lao Ban is using the drug at its limit, and the dosage is still large, so Professor Zhong worries about postoperative complications." A director said softly.

After all, he's wearing a walkie-talkie, and he's not a circulation specialist; if that sharp-tongued assistant retorts a few times, could he really talk back?

Forget about demeanor; the key is being afraid he can't win the argument.

If we really get into it, any unknown side effects or drug usage they mention would be a slap in the face.

Don't just look at how young they are; the affiliated hospital of Di Du Medical University—how is it? A bullet in the body, and they still couldn't find it! In the end, it was Zheng Lao Ban who went alone to solve the problem.

That time he went alone; this time he brought the whole team……

Lin Yuanzhang watched the EKG, which pulsed like a sea after a typhoon, and still inwardly approved of Zheng Lao Ban's approach.

The patient is already like this—just use what needs to be used. If someone dies on the operating table, there's no need to worry about drug accumulation and such.

That's something only a living person needs to consider, right?

Moreover, looking at the EKG, it's utterly chaotic—the heart rate sometimes drops to around 40 beats per minute, then spikes up to over 160.

Lin Yuanzhang repeatedly suspected the heart might stop, perhaps due to the drug or the pacemaker. Either way, the patient's heart rate wavered, refusing to drop, barely sustaining.

Nobody in the operating room dared to breathe loudly, fearing that even a sneeze would cause the patient's heart to stop suddenly.

"2 minutes 12 seconds." Su Yun suddenly said.

What does that mean? The people outside were sweating profusely.

On the operating room screen, Zheng Lao Ban's basket catheter had already snagged the PICC line, but he wasn't pulling it out; instead, he was gently scraping it.

The screen clearly showed the basket catheter advancing with difficulty; this is where the PICC line and the right pulmonary artery intima are heavily adhered.

If we forcibly yank it out with violence, once the right pulmonary artery tears, the person is dead.

But watching the patient's EKG fluctuation, everyone hopes to pull out this damned PICC catheter in the next second.

Zheng Renye is also anxious, but his operation must absolutely not be messed up.

The patient's heart was trembling wildly, sometimes fast, sometimes slow. Zheng Ren felt the patient's tricuspid valve flaps fluttering, continually affecting his operation.

Touch, adaptation—Zheng Ren kept thinking of these two words in his subconscious, his mind went blank, and his hands made minute adjustments to the catheter, adapting to the violent beating of the heart and the interference of the tricuspid valve.

In an instant, Zheng Ren's surgery surged.

If it started at only 150 APM, in an instant it leapt to 300 APM.

Moreover, this wasn't the limit; the numbers kept climbing rapidly, with no end in sight.

After a brief moment of bewilderment, Lin Yuan, when a rapid yet minute turn of the catheter almost affected the surgery, began to focus entirely on cooperating with Zheng Lao Ban.

But the speed was truly fast. Within a second, Zheng Lao Ban didn't know how many movements he made—rotating, changing the catheter's direction—to avoid the catheter being touched or affected by the heart's beating and the tricuspid valve's opening and closing.

In the snap of a finger, Lin Yuan felt his hand go a little numb and stiff, and his speed shot straight to the limit.

Although she was only an assistant, she knew that even if her hand speed was much slower than Zheng Lao Ban's, it could still meet the requirement.

But even so, she felt she could no longer bear the burden.

Not letting Zheng Lao Ban look down on her, and not affecting the surgery—these were the only two thoughts in Lin Yuan's mind.

Vision blurred, her hands constantly making minute adjustments, Lin Yuan barely kept up with Zheng Lao Ban's rhythm.

Time felt extremely slow; even "days like years" couldn't describe it. Every minute, every second, to Lin Yuan, felt like a year had passed.

The surgery wasn't even finished, yet Lin Yuan felt she had aged considerably.

"3 minutes 22 seconds."

Su Yun's voice came over, somewhat anxious and rushed.

Lin Yuan found it Strange—why, in this Emergency Rescue, was Su Yun still timing things?

But this had nothing to do with her; her hands were numb, and she felt her movements had visibly slowed.

Perhaps it wasn't her hand speed slowing, but time itself slowing due to relativity.

"Isoproterenol, speed it up even more." Zheng Ren said.

"Yeah, Lao He, epinephrine, give another five vials." Su Yun said.

A row of syringes lay beside Su Yun's hand, and Lao He voluntarily gave up the task of pushing the medication.

His hand speed wasn't as fast as Yun Ge'er's; at this moment, in Lao He's view, Su Yun's movements were already beginning to blur.

The air in the Operating Room was stagnant; only the monitors and ventilators were frantically alarming, seemingly without end.

"4 minutes 31 seconds." Su Yun said in a low voice.

"The time might need to be extended." Zheng Ren said softly.

"I'll do my best."

Su Yun didn't joke or spout nonsense; instead, he told Zheng Ren in a low voice that he would do his best to maintain the patient's heartbeat.

At this point, without a pacemaker, the patient's heartbeat would have stopped long ago.

But even with a pacemaker sustaining the last thread of life, dangerous situations kept occurring.

They began pushing epinephrine and pumping large amounts of isoproterenol and dopamine.

All drug dosages had already exceeded the limit.

The ECG fluctuation grew increasingly severe; even after Su Yun reported the 5‑minute mark, through the lead glass I saw him bring the defibrillator and start adjusting the voltage.

With a pacemaker, there was almost no chance they would need to use the defibrillator.

At the sight of the defibrillator, everyone outside froze.

Lao He continued pushing the medication, Su Yun narrowed his eyes and stared at the ECG monitor.

"All right!"

After an unknown amount of time, Zheng Lao Ban's deep voice came over the intercom.

The image of that PICC catheter retreated rapidly, and everyone's hearts suddenly lightened.

"I go… Boss, you said to hold for five minutes, but you actually used five minutes thirty‑four seconds!" Su Yun's cheerful voice came over the intercom.

"You've worked hard." Zheng Ren said.

Soon, the dangerous PICC catheter was withdrawn, and the surgery was declared a success!

Zheng Lao Ban turned around and tore off the sterile gown in one motion.

The airtight lead door opened, and Zheng Ren walked out.

"Zheng Lao Ban, you've worked hard." Lin Yuanzhang stepped forward and said politely.

"No rush, the drug dose is too high; observe for half an hour, then send to intensive care unit once stable." Zheng Ren walked into the operating room, tore off the lead clothing, and casually threw it to the floor.

Like a warrior's armor, the lead clothing smashed onto the floor with a bang.

"Critical condition..." That's another word Lin Yuanzhang doesn't want to face.

"Boss, I reduced the dose of isoproterenol." Su Yun said.

"Reduce, slow down, don't rush." Zheng Ren sat in the chair, feeling some fatigue, but his hands resting on his legs remained steady.

He stared fixedly at the ECG monitor screen in the operating room, not blinking.

Ten minutes later, Su Yun walked out.

"Boss, take a look, it's fine." He said relaxedly.

"In a moment, the heart rate is still a bit unstable." Zheng Ren said softly.

"You told me to use such a large amount of the drug, do you know my hands were shaking when I pushed rocuronium?"

"I know."

"How do you know?"

"Your shaking hands interfered with my surgery."

"Get lost!"

Including Lin Yuanzhang, everyone this time completely relaxed; Zheng Lao Ban was joking with his assistant, meaning the alarm had been lifted.

In the operating room, Xie Yiren began gently handling the instruments, while Lin Yuan prepared the puncture site dressing for the patient and went next door to take off the lead clothing.

Lin Yuanzhang pretended to go check on the patient, while Lao He remained at the patient's head side, closely monitoring all indicators.

In front of him lay several vials of epinephrine and other rescue drugs, lest anything unexpected happen at the last moment.

Lin Yuanzhang and Lao He exchanged a few words, then saw Lin Yuan walk back.

Lin Yuan's isolation gown was completely soaked front and back with sweat, turning the green gown dark green; Lin Yuanzhang felt a pang of heartache seeing it.

He walked past Lin Yuan with his hands behind his back, pretending it was unintentional, and asked softly, "You're tired, right?"

Lin Yuan raised his hand; his hands kept trembling, "Look, my hands are shaking."

"What's going on?" Lin Yuanzhang asked in surprise.

"Zheng Lao Ban is operating too fast; to keep up perfectly, my hands have to follow." Lin Yuan said proudly.

Just now's operation… Lin Yuanzhang broke out in a cold sweat, wondering if there were really that many micro‑operations; it sounded truly terrifying, yet standing outside he hadn't noticed a single detail.

Has Zheng Lao Ban's skill level already reached the point where I can't understand it?

Lin Yuanzhang's mood grew somewhat heavy.

If that's the case, the chance of calling Lin Yuan back keeps getting lower.

He glanced at the patient's ECG monitor; the heart rate gradually dropped to 110 beats per minute. His mood calmed, and his attention returned to Lin Yuan.

Especially seeing Lin Yuan's sweat‑soaked isolation gown, Lin Yuanzhang felt that heartache.

But in front of people, some things just can't be said.

He walked around with his hands behind his back, then went out.

"Zheng Lao Ban, how much longer until it stabilizes?" Lin Yuanzhang asked.

"Pretty much now." Zheng Ren sat in the chair, "Lin Yuanzhang, if your ICU technical capability isn't enough, have someone come take a look for a couple of days."

"…"

Although that's true, saying it in front of so many people just isn't right.