Chapter 46: with translation of chapter title

Director Pan was focused, holding the hemostatic forceps in his hand, constantly searching for the femoral vein that had flattened into a white line.

Thinking back to the battlefield, there were too many comrades-in-arms suffering from hemorrhagic shock; this procedure had become as familiar to him as eating and drinking.

His vision was a bit blurred, making it impossible to clearly observe the patient's local tissue structure. He was getting old, but if not him, who else could do it? Few young people now master this open technique, which was honed on human lives; where in this peaceful era could those greenhorns find so many hemorrhagic shock patients?!

After 5 minutes, Director Pan finally located the femoral vein, puncture succeeded, a bottle of glucose mixed with Meilan was then hung up; watching the steady drip of the liquid, he let out a sigh of relief.

Although a bit slower than when he was young, he could still locate the femoral vein within five minutes—not perfect, but passing. He was satisfied, feeling that despite his age he remained vigorous and could still eat!

Straightening his waist, Director Pan faintly heard his lumbar vertebrae emit a creaking sound.

One still has to succumb to age, huh. Director Pan gave a wry smile, suddenly wondering where Zheng Ren had gone.

The Inpatient Chief he had expected to come had previously performed perfectly, including this patient's condition diagnosis.

One must know that nitrite poisoning is something ordinary people might never see in a lifetime. Director Pan had encountered such a patient when he was young, looked up the treatment in books. Unfortunately, that person's condition was too severe, and he didn't hold out until Director Pan found Meilan.

The previous surgery, the diagnosis of this emergency rescue shows,

Zheng Ren can!

But where is he?

Director Pan turned his head to look around, and was immediately astonished.

Behind him, twelve beds were lined up, with seven or eight patients lying in special positions. Some had already completed deep venous puncture, and medical staff lifted them onto stretchers, moving them out of the resuscitation room to the observation room.

Meanwhile, Zheng Ren was bending over, wholeheartedly performing deep venous puncture.

Young people are just quick-eyed and quick-handed; Director Pan sighed.

But soon he realized Zheng Ren was not merely quick-eyed and quick-handed; he was practically a flash of lightning.

Xie Yiren didn't know when he had joined the rescue, silently standing beside Zheng Ren, responsible for assisting. From opening the puncture kit onward—disinfection, puncture, suturing, fixation—the whole set took……about 30 seconds?

Director Pan felt he had said too much.

While Zheng Ren was suturing and fixing, Xie Yiren had already moved to the next patient's side, beginning preparations.

This is too fast, isn't it?

Besides Xie Yiren, Zheng Ren had nearly over twenty medical staff at his disposal.

Some carried the patients brought by the 120 emergency service onto the resuscitation beds.

Some were busy preparing the Meilan and glucose solution under tension.

Some held glucose bottles, connecting them to the deep venous puncture tubing, then hung them high and set the flow rate to maximum.

Some followed behind Zheng Ren, waiting for the suturing to finish before bandaging the deep venous puncture.

Some sent the patients whom Zheng Ren had punctured to the neighboring observation room.

Orderly, like an assembly line. The time Director Pan took to complete one venous cut-down procedure, Zheng Ren had already finished several deep venous punctures.

Sigh, he was still getting old; Director Pan felt a bit disheartened yet also somewhat comforted.

The future belongs to the young; I should still do what I am capable of.

"How much Meilan is left? And the venous puncture kits?" Director Pan inquired.

"They're almost gone," the Head Nurse replied anxiously, the sound of 120 emergency vehicles blaring in her ears. Moreover, not only that, some patients with milder conditions or those who couldn't wait didn't arrive by ambulance but took taxis or private cars to the hospital.

Outside the resuscitation room, chaos reigned. More and more patients flocked to City First Hospital. After all, City First Hospital is the strongest in the city's medical sector; when a family member suddenly encounters a problem—especially a strange one—the patients' relatives' first thought is to send them to City First Hospital for treatment.

Even if the city reacted quickly and made appropriate diversions, only ambulances could be arranged; patients who came on their own for treatment basically all ended up here.

Director Pan furrowed his brows, wondering what had happened, why so many people were suffering from nitrite poisoning?

The thought flashed and vanished; this is not something a doctor should ponder. As a medical worker, as long as he treats the sick and saves lives, that's enough.

Director Pan immediately went to Dean Xiao's side, saying nothing, his eyes—clouded by time yet sharp—fixed directly on Dean Xiao without concealment.

Although he didn't speak, Dean Xiao understood Director Pan's meaning.

The deep venous puncture kits were gone; the hospital had a large stock, which didn't matter. But Meilan was exhausted, the hospital's inventory completely depleted, so incoming patients would not receive treatment.

Not receiving treatment meant waiting to die in the hospital.

Already as anxious as ants on a hot pan, Dean Xiao felt wounded all over by Director Pan's knife‑like gaze; the constant scheming and intrigue that had worn away his edges made him start to feel angry.

"What are you looking at me for! We've run out of stock! We're currently allocating supplies city‑wide!" Dean Xiao shouted angrily, as if venting dissatisfaction, including dissatisfaction with himself.

The Office Chief had never seen Dean Xiao like this; he wanted to step forward to mediate, hesitated, and then dared not go.

"You're the dean, and I'm not going to look for anyone else!" Director Pan said, "If one person dies, you can just wait to get lost. I'm telling you, lots of people are waiting for you to make a mistake."

Director Pan wasn't angry or furious; he calmly told Dean Xiao a fact. Even when he swore, his voice didn't rise. This, on the contrary, made people feel a chill.

From the meaning of his words, at some subtle moment he didn't mind giving a push.

His standing in the jianghu was such that no one doubted the magnitude of the influence behind his so‑called push.

It wasn't a responsibility accident; the position of the chief dean couldn't be shaken. But Dean Xiao also didn't want too much trouble, and more importantly, being a clinically trained administrative dean, the fiery resuscitation scene rekindled the passion deep inside him that had long been extinguished.

Dean Xiao's face changed, then he snatched the phone from the Office Chief's hand, dialed, and as soon as it connected he roared: "Meilan, ship all your stock of Meilan to City First Hospital, damn it!"

"I don't care what difficulties you have; if it's not within ten minutes, tomorrow I'll convene a dean's office meeting and have all your products expelled from City First Hospital!"

Overbearing, unreasonable.

Yet the more this way, in such a critical moment, the more reassuring it feels.

The noisy patients and families outside seemed to have been frightened, their voices dropping considerably, as if the resuscitation room hid a flood‑beast.

Dean Xiao placed call after call.

Waiting for the city to allocate uniformly would surely take too long; just the normal procedure would require at least another half hour to an hour, far less direct than a threat.

He admitted Director Pan was right—if someone died, he would face serious trouble.

Rather than that, I'll just cut off your source of income; nobody will get away with it.

Zheng Ren was like the eye of a typhoon, calmly performing deep venous puncture. Twenty‑five seconds each, extremely stable, regardless of whether the patient was old or young, male or female.

After each one, a glucose bottle was hung up, and Meilan flowed into the patient's vein like a small waterfall, passing through systemic circulation into the liver, where it began to participate in metabolism, neutralizing the nitrite in the body.

The hospital's entire departmental stock of Meilan was quickly used up; when the last bottle was opened by a nurse and added to a 10% glucose bottle, a Wuling Shen vehicle appeared at the entrance of City First Hospital's Emergency Department.

More urgent than an ambulance, faint sparks could be seen rising from the brake pads.

A middle-aged man in a suit, beer belly protruding, personally carried a box of Meilan and rushed to the Emergency Department.

"Director Xiao, eight minutes!" The middle-aged man set the box on the ground, his face deathly pale, his lungs heaving like a bellows, letting out a hoarse roar, clearly exhausted.

Director Xiao's face eased a little; seeing Meilan arrive, he only said: "Report to the Health Bureau, ask how the city is allocating resources, and take the initiative on this."

Then he and Director Pan made rounds of the patients, transferring those who had improved to any department in the hospital that could still add beds.