Chapter 275 - 181: Play My BGM

Chapter 275: Chapter 181: Play My BGM

The first drain was placed anterior to the pancreatic head, exiting from the right anterior axillary line.

The second was threaded through the omental bursa and placed posterior to the body and tail of the pancreas.

The third ran along the right paracolic gutter, all the way down to the pelvic cavity.

The fourth was placed at the bottom of the left paracolic gutter.

His placement was extremely meticulous.

Irrigation fluid would be infused from above, pass through all the severely affected areas, and finally be suctioned out from the negative pressure tube at the bottom.

He secured and sutured the drainage tubes.

"The surgery’s almost done. Prepare for abdominal closure."

"A direct closure?" Liu Jianbang glanced at the swollen intestines. "Although the intra-abdominal pressure is down, the intestinal edema hasn’t subsided. Forcibly closing the peritoneum and fascia would create too much tension. It could easily cause secondary abdominal compartment syndrome."

"We’re not closing the fascia."

Jiang He proposed a concept that, while it existed in 2008, very few people dared to use.

"Leave the abdomen open. Get me a large, three-liter sterile IV bag."

Chen Jing froze for a second, but immediately went to the supply cabinet, grabbed a sterile plastic bag, and handed it over.

Jiang He used scissors to cut the bag open and flattened it out, fashioning it into a transparent film.

"Director, this is the Bogota bag technique I’ve read about in *The Lancet*."

Jiang He covered Zhang Jiaqi’s open incision with the plastic film, simultaneously suturing its edges tightly to the skin of the abdominal wall with nylon thread.

"If we can’t close it, we don’t force it. We use the sterile bag as a temporary peritoneum. This not only accommodates the expansion of the edematous intestines and prevents a pressure rebound, but it also allows for direct observation of the intestinal blood supply. Once the edema subsides, we can perform a second-stage fascial closure."

Watching Jiang He skillfully suture the sterile bag, Liu Jianbang’s mind was reeling.

He had, of course, read about the Bogota bag technique for temporary abdominal closure in foreign literature, but the number of doctors in the country who dared to use it, let alone knew how, could be counted on one hand.

And yet, Jiang He performed it as naturally as breathing.

’Yang Xu, how in the world did you teach Jiang He?’

’Incredible!’

The last stitch was complete.

Knot tied, thread cut.

Jiang He connected the drainage tubes to the negative pressure bottle and the irrigation saline.

Clear saline flowed in through the inflow tube. A few seconds later, a turbid, pale red fluid was sucked out through the outflow tube and into the negative pressure bottle.

The irrigation circuit was unobstructed.

On the monitor, under the dual effect of cardiotonic and vasopressor drugs and the surgical decompression, Zhang Jiaqi’s vital signs finally pulled back from the brink of death and began to stabilize.

"Surgery’s over."

Jiang He took a step back, his hands leaving the operating table.

The entire level-four, high-risk surgery had taken two hours.

For a complex open abdominal decompression and debridement of this magnitude, the speed was terrifyingly fast.

"Old Li, maintain the depth of anesthesia. We’re transferring her directly to the ICU, still intubated."

Jiang He ripped off his gloves and turned to leave.

Silence lingered in the operating room.

After a long while, Liu Jianbang finally spoke. "Old Zhao, have you heard that rumor that’s been making the rounds in the hospital lately?"

"Heard it. That Jiang He is possessed by a spirit medium, right?"

"?? The hell? I think we heard different versions..."

Zhao Yumin shook his head with a wry smile. "Forget it, forget it. It doesn’t matter. I’m completely won over now. All I know is, if we two weren’t here holding retractors for this surgery, and you swapped us with those young attendings from the ER, they wouldn’t even be qualified to keep up with his movements. He’s just too fast..."

’How should one describe it?’

—Fast, like an emotionless surgical machine.

...

At that moment, the surgical machine himself was washing his hands.

Jiang He closed his eyes and let out a long, slow breath.

’It was truly exhausting.’

’But damn, it was satisfying.’

This open abdominal decompression and debridement on a critically ill patient was the most satisfyingly hard-fought battle he’d had since his rebirth.

The Lancet in his hand felt alive, each cut dodging Death itself with extreme micro-control.

’That long-lost feeling of being at my peak.’

More importantly, he had well and truly saved Zhang Jiaqi.

In his past life, the old hospital director had weathered immense pressure to give him great protection, sheltering him like an old tree as he climbed to the pinnacle of the medical world.

Now, he had repaid the debt of gratitude he owed the old director in this life—ahead of schedule and in full.

’Satisfying.’

’A feeling of utter, bone-deep relief.’

Jiang He looked up at the twenty-one-year-old face in the mirror—young, and sharp as a blade.

Even though he had pulled an all-nighter and was so tired he just wanted to crash into bed, deep down, Jiang He still wanted to give a cocky snap of his fingers.

’Someone.’

’Cue my theme music!’