Chapter 203: Surgery

"What's going on? What did you do to me?" The fat old white man showed a panicked tone for the first time.

The tinkerer explained: "Ordinary half-body anesthesia alone cannot support the progress of the surgery. But you need to maintain a conscious state, and you also need a shorter recovery time. Acupuncture from Eastern medicine can make up for some deficiencies."

The common problem of Westerners is that they attribute everything to the mysterious East, and they will inexplicably believe it.

Actually, regarding the method of gold needles breaking the pulse, most publicly available Chinese medical books don't have methods on how to paralyze people and block sensory nerves; there are only some methods for relaxing muscles and activating blood circulation.

To say it's impossible to do this kind of thing isn't quite right, because the tinkerer figured out some ways on his own. Perhaps in the inheritance of Chinese medicine, this is a secret knowledge that is taught by word of mouth and not recorded on paper. At least he couldn't find usable data.

But ultimately, it was just the tinkerer figuring it out himself, not through systematic research, and there was no large amount of human experimentation. So he could only accumulate experience in the process of treating the wounded and slowly adjust the usage of his needle technique.

Until today, even without that needle in the spinal cord, the tinkerer could make this fat old white man lie on the operating table obediently, but still be conscious. Not only could he watch, but he could also scold people.

Just to be on the safe side, he added an anesthesia needle from Western medicine. Lest the way he figured out wasn't good enough, and this fat man jumped up.

This was definitely not the tinkerer deliberately looking for trouble, but it was part of his plan...

When the fat old white man completely fell into his grasp, the tinkerer performed disinfection, then neatly opened a large human-shaped cut on the affected area, lifted the skin, and exposed the place where the internal organs should be.

White subcutaneous fat filled the surgical field of vision, protecting the internal organs very well, and the bright red organs couldn't be seen at all.

Honestly, this was the first time the tinkerer had seen such a scene.

Most of the people who let him perform surgery were the kind of poor ghosts who were so thin they were about to be dragged away by dogs. Even wanting to eat until they were fat was a luxury, so where could they see so much fat.

The tinkerer picked up a large syringe and started liposuction. When a syringe was full, he placed it properly aside and changed to the second syringe. These fats would have to be injected back later, so they couldn't be disposed of casually.

On one hand, he wasn't asked to perform liposuction surgery. On the other hand, if the fat didn't return to its place after the resection surgery was completed, it would affect the organs that had become accustomed to a certain degree of pressure. At the same time, there would be fascia relaxation and wrinkles caused by skin relaxation.

Secondly, liposuction surgery wasn't just about sucking fat when you saw it. Besides extracting evenly, it was also necessary to retain a certain amount of fat for protecting the friction between organs and organs.

So the tinkerer only performed a temporary extraction action on the fat belonging to the surgical field of vision, until the liver and gallbladder were exposed.

The nurse responsible for the equipment handed over the scalpel at the right time. Because according to her experience, the next step was to deal with the adhesion of the organs and clear out the parts to be removed. The scalpel was the most basic tool, and the rest depended on the doctor's habits.

The tinkerer took the scalpel and handled the adhered organs in two or three strokes, exposing both the liver and gallbladder. Then he took hemostatic forceps and clamped the blood vessels to be cut off first.

Scalpels, clamps, and other useful tools were placed inside this old white man's body. Seemingly placed randomly, and seemingly inserted somewhere, a pile was placed in an unclear way.

Next, the tinkerer did something that made everyone think it was unbelievable. He took off his rubber gloves and threw them into the waste collection bucket, then walked out.

Compared to other assistant doctors and nurses, their attitude of not knowing why, the fat old white man who was only half-body anesthetized, with his neck and above normal, and who could see his own surgical site, asked excitedly: "What are you doing?"

The tinkerer was too lazy to answer, but walked out of this inflatable operating room, picked up the extinguished cigar, and relit it. Then he walked into the operating room that should have maintained a sterile state with it in his mouth.

Not far away, the fat old white man's subordinates seemed to have discovered the abnormality in the operating room. They no longer wandered around, but surrounded it. It was just that they didn't rush into this sterile space rashly.

Taking a big puff of the cigar, the tinkerer exhaled all the smoke onto the face of the fat old white man lying on the operating table. He said seriously: "Life-saving money, one million dollars."

"Fuck! Is this the time to say such things?" The fat old white man roared loudly. This roar made his subordinates, those with guns drawing guns, and those without guns grabbing tools, fiercely... standing outside the operating room. Still, no one dared to break in.

The tinkerer acted as if he didn't see the threat outside, and said happily: "Is there a better time than now? I'm not raising the price, it's just the one million dollars I said before. If you don't pay, I'll leave."

"Ah~! You damn bastard, I want to kill you. Kill you!"

The tinkerer laughed, watching a group of people break into the operating room coldly. Some pointed guns at him, and those without guns were also waving the weapons they found.

That number one thug who "invited" him even had his gun barrel pointed directly at the tinkerer's forehead. It was quite a meaning of shooting if there was a disagreement.

But this time the tinkerer didn't take these threatening actions to heart, although he wasn't afraid in the first place, but now he wasn't even cooperating. He even took the cigar to the surgical field of vision and flicked the ash into it.

"Ah~, what are you doing, you motherfucker bastard! Kill him, kill him for me." The fat old white man shouted at his subordinates excitedly.

The tinkerer said calmly: "Don't worry, flicking a little ash in won't kill anyone. Haven't you seen the Rambo movie? The male lead uses gunpowder to disinfect wounds and stop bleeding. High-temperature ash won't cause bacterial infection."

A nurse on the side said in a low voice: "But it will cause inflammation symptoms, causing postoperative adhesion..."

The tinkerer laughed and said: "Don't worry, even if this fat man dies, he won't die from such a small thing."

"Shoot! Shoot and kill him for me!" The fat old white man roared angrily.

"Before shooting!" The tinkerer shouted, attracting everyone's attention, before saying slowly: "You have to make sure someone can clean up the mess here first. Otherwise, if I'm gone, you only have two choices.

"Let this fat man die here; or call 911, call an ambulance to send him to a regular hospital, complete the surgery and close the abdomen."

The tinkerer looked at the others with interest and said: "If anyone wants to do this, then hurry up. This is your chance to get promoted. You wouldn't think that after this shot is fired, this fat man can still live, or be at large outside."

"Your only savior is me. Ah, that's not right. Take this opportunity to kidnap another doctor who can perform this surgery, maybe it's still in time. It's just that you have to move fast."