Chapter 919: 900 Lend a Hand

The preoperative discussion ended. Director Kong, hands behind his back, called Zheng Ren to his side, walking and saying, "The method you just mentioned is too risky; is there another way?"

"Director Kong, I don't think so," Zheng Ren said. "The surgery—I don't think Director Miao can go through with it either. Kidney transplant would be the last resort. If the family refuses, there really isn't anything else we can do."

"Taking the kidney could be done minimally invasively, and it's close, saving a preservation step. But performing an invasive procedure on the burned area of a burn patient—just thinking about it gives me a headache. How did you come up with this idea?"

"It's forced," Zheng Ren said bluntly. "Both kidneys are shattered; even if we barely stitch them, I dare not say whether there will be postoperative bleeding, but there definitely won't be normal kidney function. The patient will die just the same, not even reaching the oliguric phase of hemorrhagic shock."

"Burn patients with over 95% third-degree burns can't even find skin flaps for grafting. I think even if we could save them, the cost would exceed two million. With such a high cost and slim chance, we might as well take a gamble."

Director Kong also had no good options; likewise, he knew nobody else had a solution either.

What Zheng Ren said is essentially the only viable solution.

Vice President Yuan suddenly appeared in the operating room—this is definitely a major incident. Earlier, I heard Zhou Litao from the Emergency Department mention it, likely related to campus loans.

Doctors, regardless of the twists behind the incident, must give full effort to rescue as long as the patient is still breathing.

However, Vice President Yuan's arrival to direct the rescue does have one advantage: for matters requiring multidisciplinary collaboration, someone has finally called the shot. Especially Zheng Ren's proposal, which also involves organ transplantation, a major undertaking.

If we discover irreversible kidney damage here, then after submitting the plan up the chain, the Medical Department would have to seek approval from the president; by the time all those procedures are completed, the patient would already be dead on the table.

But who would dare to take a severely burned patient straight to the operating table and just do it?

Director Kong turned it over in his mind a few times; although he thought Zheng Ren's plan was somewhat risky, he had no better options, so he quietly gave him a few reminders.

Just go back and wait; I don't know when that side will finalize whether to continue the surgery or just call it off.

Back in the Big External Operating Room, Director Miao's face looked especially grim. He himself moved a small round stool and sat in the Shujian; others, being tactful, didn't go in to disturb him.

If this happened at a smaller hospital, they'd just stop the bleeding, close the abdomen, and that's it—inform the family of the condition; the patient would certainly die, sooner or later.

If the family approves, fine; if not, there's nothing else to do but escalate to the Medical Mediation Committee and hand the matter over to the Medical Department for full handling.

If you can't get up on the table, or when you step down and realize the patient is surely doomed, this kind of situation is what surgeons dread most.

Working oneself to the bone with no sense of accomplishment, and possibly inviting a heap of trouble.

Director Miao sat grim-faced in the operating room, and nobody dared to jinx him.

Zheng Ren also followed Director Kong faithfully, becoming a nonentity. He pondered, no wonder the system rated the surgery as S‑rank, even higher than an autologous liver transplant. It turns out many things are simply not up to us.

"Big Pig Trotter" probably didn't want to waste resources calculating and assessing, so it gave no reward. If the surgery could be done, it would give a reward; if not, the task would essentially be nonexistent.

"Zheng Lao Ban, Director Miao is calling you." Zheng Ren was spacing out when he suddenly heard Director Kong call him.

"Huh? What does Director Miao want from me?" Zheng Ren had actually been planning to slack off.

After getting past the initial emergency rescue phase, Zheng Ren also voiced his opinion, thinking to himself that none of this had anything to do with him.

I never expected the displeased Director Miao to come looking for me.

Zheng Ren, in a daze, saw Director Miao looking at him through the lead glass; having no choice, he steeled himself and walked in.

"Zheng Lao Ban, have you ever done a kidney transplant?" Director Miao asked.

"No," Zheng Ren replied. "I used to be a general surgeon; I've never been exposed to kidney transplants."

"For the patient with hepatic hydatid disease last time, I thought your autologous liver transplant was impressive—where did you learn it?" Director Miao said.

Zheng Ren concluded.

"Where did you learn it?" "In the System Space."

"But can you say that?" "Definitely not."

"I've read some materials; back in Hai Cheng I'd seen similar patients. I had no choice—I just had to grit my teeth and go ahead." Zheng Ren gave a rough explanation in two sentences.

Anyone with a sound mind wouldn't believe those two sentences.

But Director Miao didn't press further or question him; his eyes narrowed slightly, and after a few breaths he said, "I think the hospital will approve the surgery. In a moment, give me a hand."

"……" Zheng Ren froze for a moment, then gave a wry smile: "Director Miao, I'm not——"

"You're in room 912, just an Interventional Department doctor—you've certainly assisted in general surgery procedures before." Director Miao's eyes snapped open, he glared at Zheng Ren, raising his voice slightly: "What's the deal? Should I go to the hospital and straighten this out?"

"You say what you say." Zheng Ren gave a bitter smile.

"That's settled then." Director Miao said: "A kidney transplant isn't that hard. If we can do an autologous liver transplant, what's so difficult about a kidney transplant? Besides, I'm not asking you to do it—just to assist."

Having said that, he looked at Zheng Ren's terrified expression and chuckled.

"What's there to panic about?" he said gently.

Zheng Ren genuinely didn't want to get on that operating table.

It's not for any other reason—just that, compared to other surgeries, a kidney transplant has the lowest difficulty, so Director Miao has no reason not to be able to do it.

Others can do it, and do it well—why should I overstep my bounds?

This point is completely unlike the case of the hepatic hydatid disease patient.

Whether it's hepatic hydatid disease or a calcified gallbladder, the surgical difficulty is sky‑high; even at master‑level proficiency, one still needs many repetitions to complete it.

Performing a kidney transplant—what's the point of all this trouble?

Zheng Ren felt somewhat helpless, but looking at Director Miao's expression, he couldn't guess what he was thinking.

If we're going up, we might as well go—Zheng Ren thought it didn't matter anymore.

"If we're doing a transplant, I'll say if—" Director Miao suddenly said: "How much of the patient's remaining kidney do you think you can preserve?"

"At most, adding the adrenal glands, we estimate we could preserve about 15% overall." Zheng Ren calculated and said.

"Good." Director Miao said lightly: "Preserving 15% of the right kidney is not bad at all."

As he spoke, someone came to inform them that Vice President Yuan had succeeded in working with the patient's family and had agreed to waive part of the hospitalization fees as a humanitarian gesture.

Director Miao stood up, arranged for a team‑leading professor to communicate with and obtain signatures from the patient's family. After giving a few cautions, he said, "Zheng Lao Ban, I'll go scrub in first; you get ready over there."