Chapter 417: 409 Princess Disease (Part 2)

"I've been working on this together with Professor Rudolf Wagner," Zheng Ren said.

Director Sun was taken aback, feeling quite displeased.

It's blocked, it's stuffed.

Although he couldn't perform TIPS surgery, he still knew a bit about it.

TIPS surgery is incredibly difficult; from some perspectives, it's even harder than the general surgery pancreaticoduodenectomy.

Little Zheng, you're getting full of yourself—no one taught you, yet you supposedly learned it on your own? Who would believe that?

Director Sun shook his head, sighing inwardly.

Even his own face-scanning doesn't work anymore; this kid has already floated off to the sky.

It's utterly frustrating; Director Sun really just wants to turn and leave. At his age, he's still being humiliated by a greenhorn kid.

Zheng Ren focused entirely on the upcoming surgery, judging the approach from physical exams and imaging data, mentally running through various scenarios, and preparing preventive and remedial measures for any mishaps.

He completely failed to notice Director Sun's change in mood.

All the way to the operating room, Director Sun remained silent. Zheng Ren also didn't speak, and the atmosphere felt a bit strange.

After changing clothes, Zheng Ren left the changing room first. Director Sun found a quiet corner, lit a cigarette, smoked for a while, then picked up the phone and made a call.

"Old Xia, I asked Zheng Ren, and he said the TIPS surgery was something he figured out together with the professor," Director Sun said bitterly to the familiar Director Xia of the gastroenterology department.

The fact that Zheng Ren could do TIPS surgery was also told to him by Director Xia. Originally Director Sun had wanted to contact Director Xia to reach a professor in the capital, but Director Xia instead told him that Zheng Ren could perform TIPS surgery.

Actually, Director Xia's meaning was for Director Sun to have Zheng Ren do it.

But Director Sun understood it as Zheng Ren being able to do TIPS surgery, which must mean he has connections in the capital.

Different ways of thinking caused this misunderstanding.

On the other end of the line, Director Xia was also taken aback.

"Old Sun, you weren't saying you wanted to find a skilled professor to do the TIPS surgery, were you?" Director Xia asked.

"Exactly, you recommended Zheng Ren's teacher to me, and here I am," Director Sun said, his mood somewhat low.

"Who recommended Zheng Ren's teacher to you!" Director Xia's temper flared; the volume on the phone increased by ten decibels as he said, "I'm telling you, Little Zheng's TIPS surgery was well done!"

Director Sun held the cigarette between his fingers, blankly watching the curling blue smoke drift, not grasping Director Xia's meaning.

Although Director Xia's meaning was already quite clear, …

After a few seconds, the voice on the other end grew increasingly impatient.

"Old Sun, are you getting senile? I explained this so clearly, yet you're still dragging out irrelevant talk!"

"Old Xia, I'm talking about TIPS surgery—I wouldn't get it wrong, would I?" The cigarette ember burning between Director Sun's fingers singed his skin; he winced, then snapped back to attention.

He tossed the cigarette butt and hurried to explain.

"What I told you was also about TIPS surgery." Director Xia said: "Old Zhang, my classmate who supervises clinical work at the Second Hospital, came to see Little Zheng perform a TIPS procedure and immediately invited him over."

Speaking, Director Xia paused, then asked doubtfully: "Old Sun, you wouldn't have told Little Zheng to help you contact the professor over in the capital, would you?"

"……" Director Sun didn't understand, wondering if he had done something wrong.

"You— I can't be bothered to explain." Hearing the silence on the other end, Director Xia knew he'd guessed right: "Just have Little Zheng do it; don't go running around pointlessly. When the time comes, let master's and doctoral students get some practice—don't blame me for not warning you."

Having said that, Director Xia hung up the phone.

Director Sun held his phone, laughing and crying at once, then drifted off into a daze.

Zheng Ren—since arriving at the hospital, Director Sun has known him. He's just a junior doctor in General Surgery Department One, usually diligent and conscientious, doing things solidly, but aside from those traits, he hasn't shown much standout skill in surgery.

But after one public surgery, he stood out.

Now he can even perform TIPS surgery on his own? From Director Xia's implication, though not stated outright, her meaning was clear—Zheng Ren's level of TIPS surgery surpasses that of the capital's professors.

But… is that possible?

As for Zheng Ren's surgical skill, Director Sun had no doubt. In general surgery, his work was smooth as silk. Though Director Sun was used to it—others could single-handedly whip out a pancreaticoduodenectomy, a big deal—doing a minor procedure was nothing.

But to excel across specialties?

He's so young—could that be possible?

Thinking and thinking, Director Sun drifted off. When he meant to ask Director Zhang of the Second Hospital for his opinion, he realized he had actually been sitting in the changing room, dazed, for half an hour.

Uh… the surgery must have started already—better go take a look.

Director Sun hastily put on his cap and mask, then went to the operating room.

Under the shadowless lamp, Zheng Ren's back appeared somewhat heavy.

On the operating table, nobody spoke—not even any exchange about instruments.

Had something gone wrong? Director Sun instinctively thought.

He poked his head in and was astonished to find the surgery already finished; Zheng Ren was suturing the muscle layer, each stitch dropping as Su Yun on the other side directly tied and cut the thread, their coordination flawless.

"Little Zheng, is the surgery done?" Director Sun asked.

"Yeah, the fecalith made of hair is over there—go take a look," Zheng Ren replied.

The surgery went smoothly; upon opening the abdomen, a large bulging segment of intestine was seen, packed full inside.

They opened the intestine, extracted the hair-formed stone, examined the rest of the bowel, found no further blockage, sutured the intestine, irrigated it, and the procedure was considered complete.

As for intestinal obstruction—aside from the postoperative adhesive type in the elderly being relatively difficult, this mechanical obstruction was as simple for Zheng Ren as an appendectomy.

Director Sun quickly requested a pair of gloves, then opened the yellow plastic bag holding the pathology specimen.

A foul fecal odor wafted out.

"Director Sun, could you step out?" Chu Yanran couldn't take it anymore; she had just voiced her objection to performing bowel surgery, saying that future bowel procedures should have Chu Yan zhi handle anesthesia.

Director Sun gave an embarrassed laugh, not rebuking her for being a resident anesthesiologist.

As the saying goes, you judge a dog by its owner—moreover, Su Yun was still on the table. Director Sun certainly didn't want to be sprayed a few times by that sharp-tongued, nasty fellow.

Could he possibly spray back?

Moreover, spraying back wouldn't win either.

Carrying a yellow bag, Director Sun came to the hallway of the Operating Room, found a vent, and opened the bag.

In the bag was a large fecal stone, and inside the stone one could see with clarity many hairs stuck together.

This…… this is really Laron-Zweifel syndrome? Director Sun, while tying up the bag, the smell was really too strong, no wonder Chu Yanran was unhappy. Meanwhile, he/she struggled to remember this hard-to-pronounce name of Laron-Zweifel syndrome.

Don't understand, no problem, you can look it up when you go back.

If it really doesn't work, isn't there still Baidu?

Although doctors usually tell patients not to use Baidu to look up illnesses, in such a situation Director Sun also had no choice but to turn to Baidu for help.