My Wife Is A Miracle Doctor In The 80s

Chapter 440: Chapter 434 She Comes

However, after waiting for a while, the on-duty doctor still hadn’t arrived, and the patient’s complexion was getting worse and worse, indicating an increasing amount of blood loss.

“Has the on-duty doctor been located yet?” Tang Yuxin asked the nurse who entered, while her accompanying surgeon Li Jia had already helped move the patient into the operating room, ready for surgery at any moment.

The nurse was equally anxious, “Dr. Wang and Dr. Li are also in the operating room their patient is also critical. Dr. Zhang can’t be contacted right now – even his cell phone is switched off.”

Tang Yuxin contemplated a moment, “No, we can’t wait any longer; the surgery must be performed immediately, or the patient won’t make it.”

“Who will lead the surgery: there’s no on-duty doctor.”

Li Jia was also aware that surgery was necessary. Everyone knew that whilst massive gastric bleeding sounded serious, an experienced doctor would handle the operation without any major issues.

“I’ll do it,” Tang Yuxin, with the help of the nurse, had already put on her surgical gown, “you’ll assist,” she told Li Jia.

Li Jia pointed to herself, but before she could respond, she was already putting on a surgical gown.

“Find the patient’s family to sign the consent form,” Tang Yuxin instructed the nurse, certain that the patient’s family must be somewhere nearby.

“Okay,” the nurse quickly left. When she came back, she had the signed operation consent form in hand, “Dr. Xiaotang, the patient’s family has signed.”

“Did they say anything?” Tang Yuxin asked, washing her hands at the sink. Li Jia could only listen, following Tang Yuxin’s actions in near shock, unable to utter a word.

“No,” the nurse shook her head, “it all happened too suddenly, the family didn’t completely understand, but they cooperated fully.”

“Mmm,” Tang Yuxin responded, already moving back towards the operation table. She put on her gloves, her demeanor composed. It was as though she was not operating on a real person, but a mannequin, like the ones they used in their medical training.

But this was not a mannequin; this was a real person, and this was major surgery. There would be incisions made.

“Prepare to start,” Tang Yuxin told the anesthetist. As soon as they were ready, she picked up the surgical knife. Li Jia watched wide-eyed as blood began to ooze from the incision, the smell of blood nauseating her.

“Control the bleeding,” Tang Yuxin instructed Li Jia.

Snapping to attention, Li Jia quickly picked up the hemostat. She took a deep breath, reminding herself to stay calm. Yes, be calm. This was simply stopping the bleeding, something she had done plenty of times before. This was familiar. Yes, very familiar.

If Tang Yuxin had already cut open the patient’s abdomen, then what did she have to be afraid of?

“Hmm, very good, continue,” Tang Yuxin encouraged her after stealing a brief glance at Li Jia.

Upon hearing this, Li Jia breathed a sigh of relief. Her movements became smoother, more precise, and she was now keeping pace with Tang Yuxin.

Tang Yuxin had opened the patient’s abdominal cavity to see the bleeding was severe. She located the bleeding vessel and sutured it, then suctioned out all the blood from the abdominal cavity. It sounded simple, but each surgical response, each action, even each breath required sophisticated competence and technical skill. When all the blood had been removed, they discovered the patient had lost almost 1000 milliliters of blood. A moment later, and not even a blood transfusion might have replaced the speed of the patient’s blood loss.

After another quick examination, Tang Yuxin was confident there were no further problems. She closed the abdomen and began to suture it.

Li Jia stared at Tang Yuxin’s suturing in astonished silence, involuntary swallowing as she followed each coordinated movement.

Her technique was excellent and quick, the sutures neat.

Tang Yuxin had once said that she trusted her suturing skills implicitly. In her previous life, she had been outstanding at suturing in medical school. Over ten years of working as a doctor, she had performed countless surgeries and sutured countless wounds. Even she had lost count of the actual number. Her surgical speed and suturing were the results of over a decade’s experience, not some inherent genius.

After all, she believed in the principle of the early bird catching the worm.

“Okay, surgery is complete,” she said, putting down the scalpel. This patient’s life was saved. If there were no further complications, he wouldn’t need another surgery. A patient – and the patient’s family – should not have to experience the ordeal of multiple surgeries. Responsibility and sanctions from the hospital administration would have to be dealt with tomorrow.

This was a basic principle, something even a brand-new medical student would know, so a grave mistake like this should never have happened.

The patient was transferred to the ICU. Despite the dangerous operation, all of his vital signs were normal, and he was expected to regain consciousness tomorrow without complications.

It wasn’t until the morning whistle sounded, signalling the end and the beginning of another day, that Tang Yuxin yawned, feeling weary. She leaned over the table, waiting for someone to arrive.

When the hospital director arrived and heard about the incident, he was livid.

“Where’s Zhang Yu?” he asked the on-duty nurse, “Where has he gone?”

The on-duty nurse looked as if she were about to cry, “Dr. Zhang said he was going to pick something up, but he hasn’t come back.”

“What time did he leave?” The director kept a stern face, eager to prevent himself from shouting at the nurse in anger. This wasn’t the nurse’s fault. The on-duty doctor was the one who was missing. If Tang Yuxin hadn’t performed the surgery last night, they would have been dealing with a medical accident this morning. Could he then continue his role as hospital director? Would their hospital even be allowed to operate anymore?

This type of low-level, completely avoidable incident had never occurred since the establishment of their military hospital.

“He left at around two o’clock,” answered the nurse quietly. She didn’t mention that Dr. Zhang had actually left before two o’clock. However, whether it was two o’clock or before two o’clock, it was now past nine.

“Where is he, where has he gone?”

The director slammed his hand on the table, his voice so loud no one dared to utter a word.

The nurse shook her head, on the verge of tears.

Where was he? How could she know? She wasn’t Zhang Yu’s shadow.