Shenzhen Economic Development Zone People’s Hospital.
Mu Tao and Wu Haishi were staring unblinkingly at the livestream in the chief office in the interventional radiological department.
Ever since the account began broadcasting interventional radiology in Xinglin Garden, Mu Tao had registered one so that his master could directly access the website.
The facilities in Shenzhen City were particularly good for ordinary doctors, but for Old Wu, a national expert, scholar and professor, the facilities available to him were even better.
After learning that the surgery broadcast had begun, Mu Tao had come to the chief office and watched the livestream together with Old Wu.
Clasping his hands together, his right middle finger gently and repeatedly tapping the back of his left hand, Old Wu was deep in thought as he stared at the screen.
However, Mu Tao sat behind Old Wu with his expression full of doubt.
He had known that the host surgeon was very competent.
He presumed that the host surgeon’s skills were slightly better, perhaps even on par with his.
However, the broadcast today had given him a strong sense of discomfort.
The earlier procedures were straightforward, and the only point of interest was that the host did not perform an arterial puncture this time, implying better coordination with their surgical assistant.
However, the moment the angiographic footage appeared onscreen, Mu Tao was instantly caught in a trance.
Instead of taking the usual pathway from the aorta into the hepatic artery, the host surgeon had directly inserted the micro-guidewire into the short gastric artery!
He did not casually dismiss it as negligence as most tumor-feeding blood vessels came from the short gastric artery.
Sure enough, when the micro-guidewire advanced further and to the right, Mu Tao was convinced that the short gastric artery was the tumor-feeding artery.
He had come to that conclusion without confirming it with the angiographic footage.
How had the host surgeon known? Had he done 3D reconstruction of a CT scan or was it something else?
Instead of unnecessarily bothering Old Wu, who was quietly and attentively watching the surgery broadcast, he started to rack his brain and search for answers.
He came up with various possibilities such as the host surgeon’s experience, intuition, preoperative tests, intraoperative angiographic images and so on, but threw them all out.
It was impossible!
This was not a fantasy novel, and there was no such thing as prophecy.
In the live broadcast room, the host surgeon started creating an angiographic image, and the entire tumor “lit up” just as how Mu Tao initially imagined.
It also meant that the short gastric artery was the culprit feeding the tumor as opposed to other branches of the hepatic artery.
This had occurred because the branches of the hepatic artery had been embolized after surgery, causing an abnormal proliferation of other blood vessels supplying the late-stage hepatic carcinoma.
However… How had the host surgeon determined that the short gastric artery was the culprit rather than the phrenic or spinal arteries, or even the thoracic or abdominal aorta?
Following the completion of angiographic imaging, subsequent procedures were dull and uninteresting in Mu Tao’s opinion.
If he had known preoperatively that the short gastric artery was the tumor-feeding artery in this patient, he would definitely have done as well as the host surgeon… Maybe…
‘I will surely perform as well as him!’ Mu Tao cheered himself up.
Those arterial branches were nothing compared to the ultra-fine blood vessels supplying the liver. He should be able to superselect them… He could even repeat the process if the first superselection ended up in failure.
Immersed in his own thoughts, Mu Tao moved his right hand slightly as if currently standing in the interventional radiology suite, wearing a lead apron and performing the surgery himself.
No…
He soon realized a frustrating truth—even if he knew that the short gastric artery was feeding the tumor, there was no way he could successfully superselect it on the first attempt.
Practice made perfect.
That was the case in every stage performance, even more so in an operating theater.
Mu Tao still had basic self-awareness, which was a necessity in the medical world. As a leading figure in the new generation of interventional radiologists in the country, he was undoubtedly one of the best amongst his colleagues below the age of forty.
‘If I can’t do it, then the host surgeon must be a demon in the nation, perhaps even the world’s best professor too,’ Mu Tao thought.
The broadcast soon ended, and he could imagine the subsequent procedures with his eyes closed.
Once the microcatheter entered the liver alongside the micro-guidewire, chemotherapy drugs would be administered and the artery embolized with an embolic agent. An angiographic imaging would then be used to ensure the absence of omission before the surgery ended.
“What have you noticed?” asked Wu Haoshi after the surgery broadcast was over.
“The host surgeon’s skills are superior to mine, so I think he is at least in his fifties, perhaps a top specialist in the country or even an internationally-renowned expert,” answered Mu Tao.
The constant tapping of Old Wu’s right middle finger on the back of his left hand became faster.
“That’s not what I’m asking. Do I need you to tell me about the host surgeon’s identity or how well he performed?” Old Wu expressed his dissatisfaction.
Mu Tao was his closed-door student, so there was absolutely no need for ceremony.
“Then…” Mu Tao hesitated, unable to understand his master’s question.
“The host surgeon superselected the short gastric artery instead of the hepatic artery. What do you think about that?” asked Old Wu.
“I’ve a few guesses.” Mu Tao blurted out all the possibilities that had come to him earlier.
Old Wu continued to ponder, the tapping of his fingers now a drumbeat.
Mu Tao was aware of his master’s habits. The more rapid his tapping, the faster he was thinking.
“I think the host surgeon must have concluded that the tumor tissue had established a new feeding artery and found it through preoperative 3D reconstruction of the 64-slice CT scan,” Old Wu finally said with confidence.
“3D reconstruction of a 64-slice CT scan… can’t produce such detailed results, right?” asked Mu Tao doubtfully.
“That’s because you haven’t reached such levels of proficiency.” Old Wu shook his head and said, “I’ve only met one person who has, but he passed away two years ago.”
“Who is he?”
Old Wu waved his hand, signalling that he was not to be interrupted.
“The first batch who learned interventional radiology was the doctors of the radiology department, and I was considered part of the second batch,” Old Wu continued, “Those engaged in CT imaging began to study interventional radiology after large-scale development of radiofrequency ablation, which is still dominated by clinicians until now.”
Mu Tao was stunned. He had no idea what his master was talking about.
“It seems like the host surgeon has a huge team that allowed them to superselect the short gastric artery, but an ordinary CT radiologist couldn’t possibly have performed such a delicate task. It had to have been the host surgeon. They had to have been the one to perform the 3D reconstruction of the 64-slice CT scan!” Old Wu stood and waved his right arm in excitement.
“Master, please take care of your blood pressure,” Mu Tao quickly advised, shocked by Old Wu’s behavior.
“I’m fine.” Old Wu smiled and said, “Download the surgery recording. It’ll be our learning materials for this afternoon’s session.”
Mu Tao nodded, but froze as soon as he switched to the main page.
“What’s wrong?” asked Old Wu.
“The surgery recording disappeared,” replied Mu Tao, stupefied.
“…” Old Wu was momentarily stunned and said angrily, “What?!”
Staring at the exasperated Old Wu, Mu Tao dared not to say a word.
Old Wu regained his composure a few minutes later and said in a croaky voice, “Follow me to the CT room.”
“Huh? What for?” Mu Tao was puzzled.
“To learn 3D reconstruction of CT scans.” Old Wu’s expression was stony.
