Chapter 708: 697 Fighting Side by Side

Huaxi, inside the operating room.

Orthopedics Department doctors finished a surgery; the patient was sent away.

During this break, doctors grabbed the time, some leaning against the wall, others spreading the sterilized gowns they'd taken off on the floor, heedless of cold or heat, lying down to sleep. Even if they couldn't sleep, easing the body a little was good.

Having come this far with the surgery, they no longer cared about speed. Everyone became cautious. Their own energy exhausted, the surgery could be slower, but they absolutely could not make a mistake.

They hoped the supporting doctors would arrive soon, so they could get a few hours of sleep… although they knew this was a luxury.

Hearing the sound of the gurney, everyone went numb.

The lead doctor lying on the floor, half-asleep, calculated: lift the patient, disinfect, at least he could sleep ten minutes.

Great, I can sleep ten minutes.

"Professor Yan, take a look." the doctor receiving the patient said.

"Get some rest, you prepare the surgery first."

"It's a wounded with medical records." the doctor receiving the patient shook the simple plastic bag in his hand.

The plastic bag was tightly sealed; one could tell it had been handled with care.

Professor Yan lying on the floor sprang up instantly, mustered his strength, and snatched the plastic bag.

Patients with medical records all came from the same place.

This had already been proven before.

There were from General Surgery Department, from Orthopedics Department; there were postoperative cases, and there were those just rescued and directly diagnosed.

A small medical record, weighty as a thousand jin, is the firsthand observation data of the doctors in charge of rescue on the front line.

Postoperative patients with medical records are relatively easier to handle. But this is not the key; for Orthopedics, performing a thrombectomy on the front line as preparation for amputation is nothing short of a fantasy.

They knew what the situation was ahead, and they had asked a postoperative thrombectomy patient. It was said that the thrombectomy was performed in a ruin.

At that moment, inside the operating room, everyone fell silent.

Such patients were not many, fewer than ten. Each patient could retain as many as one or two joints as much as possible.

If no surgery were done, the whole leg might be amputated, becoming only a below‑knee amputation. Some even needed only to cut off the necrotic half of the foot sole.

For Orthopedics, postoperative recovery and maintaining normal life are extremely important.

Professor Yan asked for a pair of scissors, cut open the plastic bag, and took out a damp white sheet from inside.

On the paper, the patient's condition summary, the treatments performed, and suggestions were written in a messy hand.

Regarding the patient's condition, everyone had their own judgment.

But in this special situation, Professor Yan still wanted to respect as much as possible the opinions of the doctors on the front line who performed surgery amid aftershocks and rainstorms.

He also wondered which god‑level doctor had rushed to the front line, leaving a sliver of hope for so many severely wounded.

"Try to preserve the ankle joint as much as possible." Professor Yan said softly after reading the record.

The atmosphere in the operating room instantly became much more relaxed.

"Are there any more similar wounded?" Professor Yan asked.

"No, this is the last batch." The doctor who went to fetch the wounded said: "The main force has moved in; although the road is still not open, by carrying stretchers we have managed to bring forward most of the severely wounded. I asked about the situation; they said the two military doctors who performed the surgery, the first batch from the front, have now gone somewhere unknown."

Professor Yan felt a bit regretful.

It would be wonderful if such a great, god‑level doctor could come here to cooperate with us.

Too bad.

But Professor Yan was certain they were exactly where they were most needed, fighting side by side with him.

……

……

Provincial Second Hospital, fleet after fleet of 120 ambulances arrived, delivering the wounded and then returning again, tirelessly.

The emergency doctor glanced over; beside the patient lay a plastic file folder containing a white sheet.

"It was sent from Pengxi Township." He was certain.

At a time when massive numbers of wounded were being sent down, being able to preserve the treatment process or medical records is extremely rare.

When he first received such a patient, he was also surprised. Yet the medical record and treatment process in the file, the source of the wounded, were written clearly; even the doctor on the 120 ambulance that brought the wounded said the wounded had been given a number, and the number must not be lost, so that relatives could later look for them.

Amid the thousand‑fold busyness, still being meticulous indicates a huge workload and endless energy expenditure.

The emergency doctor opened the transparent file folder, glanced at what was written, and said: "Send to Orthopedics; this is a postoperative patient after pelvic fracture interventional therapy. Don't forget to hand over the blood bags."

"Okay." Several volunteers, already familiar with the workflow here, responded crisply.

One of them was a newcomer, curious about everything, seeing this patient differed from the others, found it strange.

But he didn't ask right away; sending the wounded to the appropriate department was the most important thing at the moment.

He ran all the way, delivered the wounded to Orthopedics, and completed the handover.

"Brother, why does this wounded still have a medical record?" the newcomer volunteer asked.

"On the Pengxi Township Hospital side, that's one of the forward posts; some wounded are more severely injured, so surgery was performed there directly. Those coming down from Pengxi Township all have a transparent file folder containing a record of the wounded's treatment."

"I've been to the front before, but not to Pengxi Township." Another volunteer, who had arrived earlier and knew more, said: "Other places aren't as well‑organized as Pengxi Township. I've heard that the first wave of West China surgeons sent to the front performed many surgeries at Pengxi Township Hospital. Moreover, it seems there is a volunteer there who is fully in charge of the trifling procedures."

"Volunteer? Like us?"

"Same? You're joking. Next time ask the doctors and nurses on the 120 ambulance whether they know Ning Shu from Pengxi Township."

"How long has it been, and they already have a nickname?" the newcomer volunteer exclaimed in surprise.

"Those little nurses all call Ning Shu a male god; the doctors all admire him to the point of falling flat. Being able to straighten out a forward post in the shortest time, even having medical records, is something ordinary people could not do."

"Is he also a volunteer? Sounds impressive."

"It's said he emptied a Carrefour warehouse at a moment's notice, brought a convoy of trucks to support. Later he helped for a while at West China, then as troops continued to move in, he went to Pengxi Township Hospital."

"If one says the vast land of China hides dragons and tigers, that's truly the case." a volunteer sighed.

"Just do the work at hand well; as long as we can face ourselves, that's enough."

If there's an opportunity, I also want to go see Ning Shu. At the very least, when I get back home, I'll have something to tell people.

Don't talk nonsense. Find time to get a good sleep. The main force has just entered the mountains; this is only the beginning, and there's still plenty to keep us busy.