Translator: EndlessFantasy Translation Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation
“What’s happening?” Zheng Ren asked.
“They’re doing a double act.” Chang Yue’s tone suggested she was unpleased.
The professor was stunned. “A double act?”
Even though he was a savant at languages, he had yet to master all the terms during his short stay.
However, neither Zheng Ren nor Chang Yue was in the mood to explain it to the professor.
Zheng Ren had just finished a 64-slice CT scan with 3D image reconstruction for the patient in the ward 3-8, whose condition was assuredly under control based on the data shown.
However, both his children were playing good cop, bad cop, and Zheng Ren could not understand why.
Seeing Zheng Ren’s confusion, Chang Yue explained nonchalantly, “The admission was a setup.”
It was ridiculous.
“They did it as a display of filial piety toward their family friends. When their father became sick, they didn’t bring him to a rural health center and instead, chose to go straight to Sea City’s best hospital.” Chang Yue’s tone was becoming so harsh that Zheng Ren could feel the biting cold behind it.
“After all their family friends came to visit, they started to request a self-discharge.”
“I tried to talk to them and asked them to wait for you to return after the 64-slice CT scan to decide the treatment’s success rate. However, it was then that the patient’s son started to make a scene.”
With just a few simple sentences, she had painted the complete picture.
Few were willing to spend money on old folks. They would only splurge on funerals after their seniors passed away.
Everything was designed to show off to the living and uphold their reputation.
Zheng Ren understood that.
And because he understood it, he knew he was boxed into a corner.
The patient’s condition could still be stabilized. Although liver cancer was commonly called the emperor of all maladies, Zheng Ren predicted that the patient could live for at least another three to five years without the need for any costly, targeted drugs if he visited the hospital every two months for surgeries and follow-ups.
However…
This was frustrating.
“What are you doing?” Zheng Ren asked.
“I’m drafting the self-discharge consent form.” Chang Yue turned to say as she continued typing.
Zheng Ren had no choice. He could not pin the old man to the operating table and perform the surgery, could he?
The office was very quiet. Professor Rudolf Wagner had many things he wanted to discuss with Zheng Ren but was forced to hold it in as he felt the tension within the room.
It felt as if he were being choked.
Soon, Chang Yue was at the office desk and calling for the family of the patient in ward 3-8.
Instead of the man who had been swearing uncontrollably, the woman who had held him back came in.
Immediately, she said in embarrassment, “Doctor, I’m so sorry. My brother has a bad temper.”
If Chang Yue had not explained the situation to Zheng Ren earlier, he would have believed her.
It took incredibly acting to successfully lie to an experienced clinical doctor. Her expression was delicate and sincere, filled with sorrow and helplessness.
Nevertheless, after Chang Yue’s briefing, Zheng Ren saw right through her.
“Sign here.” Chang Yue did not put on her usual smile for communicating with patients’ families. She was as cold as a statue.
“Oh, okay.” The woman nodded repeatedly as she reached for the pen.
“Write here that you’re aware that the patient is diagnosed with liver cancer and that it’s treatable with surgery. However, due to financial and personal reasons, his immediate family have decided against having surgery after discussion and are forcefully requesting a self-discharge. You will be solely responsible for any consequences resulting from the discharge.” Chang Yue’s explanation was cruder than usual.
Zheng Ren could feel the anger radiating from her.
The patient’s daughter was shocked.
“Don’t worry, no one will see this agreement,” Chang Yue said. “It’s just to prove that I’ve briefed you on this. If Old Chief Physician Pan asks, I will have something to show him.”
At the mention of Old Chief Physician Pan’s name, the patient’s daughter squirmed.
She signed the form and wrote the words Chang Yue had said without hesitation.
Zheng Ren felt an indescribable feeling as he watched the woman finish the paperwork.
It was mostly pity.
Even if the patient received only one surgery, he would be able to live for at least another six months to a year.
If he left now, his disease would kill him within three to six months.
Zheng Ren let out a long sigh.
The patient’s daughter completed the documentation quickly and asked a few questions on the discharge time.
Chang Yue impatiently answered them and left to proceed with other work.
The patient’s daughter were going through a mixture of complicated feelings, but Zheng Ren had no interest in digging deeper. Recognizing that she was exactly as Chang Yue had described, he lost interest in her and continued to read the Fundamentals of General Surgery.
The professor found all of this very new and strange. He blinked, seemingly lost in thought.
The patient’s daughter hurriedly left the office. Within half an hour, she had packed up and left with the patient.
Such were the difficulties of being a clinical doctor.
The human heart was unpredictable. One could hurt themselves if they were not careful.
This time around, the patient’s family members had stopped requesting a self-discharge and avoided berating Chang Yue and Zheng Ren due to Old Chief Physician Pan being around.
Were they anyone else, there would have been a big fuss.
After Chang Yue finished the patient’s discharge process, she tossed the case file onto the nurse’s station. She then went to change and irritatedly notified Zheng Ren that she was leaving.
Zheng Ren did not dare to step on her toes. It was something not even Su Yun had the guts to do.
The weather was not ideal, the afternoon sun was weak and chilly.
Zheng Ren continued reading, aware that the usual warmth from the sun was absent.
While he read, he texted Xie Yiren via WeChat. Time flew when he chatted with Xie Yiren. In the blink of an eye, it was already time for his evening shift.
…
At that moment in one of the Class Two Grade A Hospital in Horqin Right Middle Banner of Inner Mongolia [1].
An interventional doctor was participating in a multidisciplinary case conference review.
In the ICU, there was a patient being presented with lower gastrointestinal tract bleeding. The entire hospital did not know what to do.
At the beginning, the patient was going to be abandoned. However, after watching the hybrid surgery from Xinglin Garden, the interventional doctor got inspired and joined the conference.
He understood clearly why the hospital had decided to hold a multidisciplinary case conference review.
It was because they were unable to treat his disease.
The purpose of the conference was just to show that the hospital had paid attention to his case. They could not treat him simply because they were unable to, not because of malpractice.
This would have been impossible in the past.
Now, the interventional doctor thought that the patient had a fighting chance.
The deputy chief of the medical administration division had chaired the multidisciplinary case conference review. Each department chief spoke in turn.
All of them thought that the patient was too old, and the complication risks after surgery… No, not risks. The patient would definitely die in surgery.
If they chose the conventional treatment, he had a 1% survival chance.
It would be totally up to fate.
The interventional doctor did not judge them as they were just restricted by current medical limitations.
More than a century ago, pulmonary tuberculosis was untreatable, but times had changed.
Since the interventional department was the last department on the list to speak, the interventional doctor sat at the far corner and waited a long time for his turn to speak.
After they had all finished speaking, the medical administration division’s deputy chief had started to pack up before dismissing the conference. He asked one last routine question, “Does anyone else want to share their opinion?”
“I have something to say.”
…
Author’s note:
One of my patients was the head of the food bureau of Horqin Right Middle Banner of Inner Mongolia. He had retired for a few decades. I’ve always remembered the name of this place because it sounded interesting.
