Chapter 2404: 2321 A Mouthful of Blood Spurted Out

Send him to the CT room, a group of people follow inside, fearing that something might happen when Director Mao does the CT.

Mao Chi felt his vision flickering black and white, with golden specks mixed in.

Like fireflies, as the CT machine hummed, his heart began to race.

Knowing this is bad, but Mao Chi couldn't control it.

Please don't let anything happen, please don't let anything happen—Mao Chi could only tell himself this. He hasn't reached retirement age, hasn't held a grandchild, how could he just die?

Thinking and thinking, he unconsciously started to think about what comes after death. If the aortic dissection ruptures, he'd die in the CT room—how many doctors in the department would sincerely cry for him? Maybe a few, but not all.

After the CT, everyone lifted Mao Chi onto the gurney.

"Don't go yet, let me look at the film." Mao Chi said softly.

Tears slid down the corner of his eye; he seemed to have already foreseen his fate.

"Director Mao, don't worry, don't worry." The team-leading professor comforted him softly, "Even if it's a dissection, just put on the big frame next."

"What if the renal artery is torn too?" Mao Chi thought a lot, and at the same time he vaguely felt a tearing pain in his abdomen.

"Could it really be this coincidental?" Mao Chi thought. At that moment he felt as if the ground beneath his feet had vanished, falling into an endless abyss.

The team-leading professor really didn't know what to say; he knew that whatever situation he mentioned, Director Mao would always consider the worst possibility. This is inevitable: the more he spoke, the more afraid Mao Chi became; the more afraid, the higher Mao Chi's blood pressure rose, until an irreversible feedback loop formed, leading to rupture of the dissection.

I'd better just keep quiet.

Soon, the CT images were printed, still warm, and placed into Mao Chi's hands.

Mao Chi's hand trembled as he glanced at the film. The plain chest CT showed an irregular soft-tissue density shadow at the anterior edge of the descending aorta, not ruling out a possible contained hematoma from descending aortic rupture.

But in his mind there was no "not ruling out"—it was full of descending aortic rupture, forming a clot; once the hematoma bursts, the person is gone!

Although he hadn't done a 64-slice CTA, Mao Chi still gave himself a definitive diagnosis—descending aortic dissection aneurysm.

"Find Zheng Lao Ban, go straight to the interventional surgery room." Mao Chi said.

Hurry up and put on the big frame; it should be fine. If Zheng Lao Ban can't handle it, then we'll have to do open-chest surgery.

Zheng Lao Ban's skill is so high, there should be no problem.

Mao Chi thought a lot, especially about Zheng Lao Ban's one successful high-difficulty surgery after another.

Zheng Lao Ban can even do heart conjoined twin separation surgery; treating an aortic dissection is nothing.

Mao Chi comforted himself in his heart.

Perhaps it's the halo effect of Zheng Lao Ban, Mao Chi felt a bit better. Although his hands and feet were icy cold, this was due to excessive tension causing capillary spasm in the extremities.

Don't be tense, don't be tense, relax, relax—Mao Chi comforted himself, and the gurney moved again.

……

Zheng Ren was performing surgery; he had put his phone in his pocket, so he didn't answer the call.

"Boss, Director Mao said he's considering a descending aortic dissection." After Su Yun received the call, she pressed the button on the walkie-talkie and said.

Zheng Ren was operating on Lin Yuan; hearing Su Yun's words, he blinked slightly.

"Where is he?"

"He had a plain CT scan, saw an irregular soft-tissue density shadow at the anterior edge of the descending aorta. He's heading our way; we estimate we'll need emergency angiography, put on the big frame." Su Yun said.

Zheng Ren shifted his body sideways, his left shoulder bumped Lin Yuan's shoulder, pushing her aside, then performed cross-hand operation with both hands, finishing the surgery in a few minutes.

Lin Yuan had long accepted this reality—no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get close to Zheng Lao Ban even a little. His skill level was too high, so high that it made her feel powerless.

Seeing Zheng Lao Ban personally perform a TIPS surgery, Lin Yuan let out a long sigh.

Amazing! No matter how many times I train on 3D-printed human body models, familiarizing every surgical point to the point of knowing it by heart, I still can't figure out how Zheng Lao Ban does surgery.

After Zheng Ren finished the surgery, Lin Yuan pressed to stop bleeding, he tore off the sterile gown and walked out of the operating room.

"How much longer?"

"Who knows." Su Yun glanced at Feng Xu Hui.

"The big frame is ready; I've already prepared it." Feng Xu Hui said immediately.

"All the rescue medicines are in the rescue cart; this morning I checked once, everything's there." Xie Yiren said.

Zheng Ren arrived at the hallway outside the operating room, quietly waiting for Mao Chi to be pushed over.

Usually Director Mao had hypertension, but not severe. Where did this aortic dissection come from? Zheng Ren wondered.

Traumatic? Or from a fishbone or other sharp object piercing?

"Xie Yiren, is the surgical box sterilized?" Zheng Ren asked.

"Sterilized, ready to use anytime."

"Prepare the hybrid operating room; if we can't place the stent, we'll go straight to open-chest."

"Okay."

Su Yun stood beside Zheng Ren, her expression somewhat solemn; she didn't speak, because saying anything now would be nonsense.

We haven't even seen the film—what's there to say?

Soon, the doorbell rang; the head nurse of the operating room opened the door directly, and the gurney was pushed in.

Zheng Ren looked at Mao Chi's system panel, all red, and was stunned for a moment.

"Stupid? Or can't bring yourself to cut?" Su Yun whispered.

The more familiar the person, the harder it is to operate; many doctors are like that. But Su Yun doesn't think her own boss has that mindset—Miao Director's surgery, the boss did it smoothly. When Pan Director was suspected of lung cancer, the boss cried, but looking at his expression he also seemed ready to personally go on stage and operate.

Others do it, this guy won't feel at ease.

"No." Zheng Ren shook his head, strode to Mao Chi's side, looked at him and asked: "Where do you feel uncomfortable?"

"Zheng Lao Ban." Director Mao's trembling hand gripped Zheng Ren's hand.

At this moment he felt as if he had already been saved.

"Don't be tense, where do you feel uncomfortable?" Zheng Ren soothed Director Mao with a sentence, then took the film handed over by the vascular team-leading professor beside him and glanced at it.

"Pain behind the sternum, just now I still felt a tearing sensation in the abdomen; I think the descending aortic dissection has already torn downward." Director Mao said with a trembling voice.

"Wait a moment, don't push in yet." Zheng Ren gripped Mao Chi Director's cold hand tightly, then pulled his hand back, holding the film and looking at it.

"Zheng Lao Ban, let's look at the angiogram; the soft-tissue shadow area is a bit large, I'm afraid bleeding won't be controllable." Circulation Department Director Zhang said.

"I'll just take a quick look, no rush." Zheng Ren said.

Everyone fell silent, wondering how Zheng Lao Ban could be so calm—did he have everything under control, or was it simply none of his business?

Mao Chi was a bit anxious; this wasn't what he had imagined.

Shouldn't he have been sent in and then gone straight onto the operating table for surgery? What was Zheng Lao Ban thinking?

In an instant, golden stars flashed before his eyes, a surge of heat welled up in his chest. He barely lifted his head, just about to speak, when a gush of blood spurted out.