Chapter 125 - 115: Dawn
He looked up at the monitor.
Blood pressure 95/60, heart rate 92.
The patient’s vitals had been pulled back from the brink and stabilized.
"Dr. Jiang." The nurse on duty walked over, holding a chart. "This patient had a follow-up B-scan half an hour ago. The abdominal fluid isn’t increasing, and his hemoglobin has stabilized. The second-line doctor took a look and said there’s a good chance conservative treatment will work. No surgery for now. We’ll transfer him to the hepatobiliary surgery ward at dawn."
Jiang He nodded. "Keep an eye on his urine output."
He continued walking, stopping before an extra bed placed against the wall in the hallway.
This was the tall, thin man with the Tension Pneumothorax.
The man was sleeping soundly, his eyes closed, his chest rising and falling steadily with each breath.
And on the floor by the bed, Chen Hao was leaning against the wall, his head bobbing as he dozed off.
He was still clutching the drainage tube connected to the chest tube, terrified it might get pulled out.
Jiang He walked closer and bent down to look at the water-seal bottle under the bed.
The column of water undulated gently with the man’s breathing, and there were no more large bubbles, indicating that the air leak in the pleural cavity had sealed.
Jiang He reached out and tapped Chen Hao on the shoulder.
Chen Hao jolted awake, instinctively tightening his grip on the tube, his eyes wide. "It didn’t fall out! The tube didn’t fall out! I’m watching it!"
Only after he saw it was Jiang He did Chen Hao’s tense nerves relax.
He rubbed his eyes, his voice hoarse. "Old Jiang, you’re out of surgery? How did it go?"
"Saved him," Jiang He said, looking at Chen Hao. "What about you?"
Chen Hao broke into a grin, though it looked a bit strained. "He’s alive. The chief resident from respiratory came down for a consult just now. Said the needle decompression was done just in time. Old Jiang, today... I saved one."
This was the lingering trauma Chen Hao had been unable to get over since the Feiyu Internet Cafe incident.
Today, he had finally moved past it.
Jiang He said, "When you get back to the dorm tomorrow, reread the Chapter on thoracic trauma in your *Surgery* textbook. Combine it with today’s real-world experience, and you’ll remember it for the rest of your life."
Chen Hao nodded emphatically and pushed himself up against the wall. "I’m going to wash my face. I have to keep watching him after."
He had only taken two steps when he suddenly remembered something.
He fumbled in his pocket for a moment before pulling out his phone.
Then he called Jiang He over and took a selfie with him against the white wall.
Jiang He: "?"
Chen Hao explained, "It’s my first time pulling an all-nighter to save someone. I want to commemorate it."
Jiang He nodded. "Alright. You’ve worked hard."
After Jiang He left, Chen Hao sent the photo to Xu Juan.
We were really saving lives tonight!
In the photo, Chen Hao had a goofy smile, and there was even a smudge of blood on his cheek.
But...
Xu Juan, who had been up all night with Shen Yu, saw the photo and found her opinion of Chen Hao inexplicably changing for the better.
Beside her, Shen Yu was silent.
Xu Juan clicked her tongue, wanting to offer a few words of comfort.
But in the end, she just couldn’t find the words.
She sighed and said, "Okay, I don’t know what to say either. I’m a little moved, too. Both of them... they were so cool today..."
Jiang He continued on his way.
The short-haired woman who’d had the cardiac tamponade was quietly receiving an IV drip. The cyanosis around her lips had completely faded.
Her five-year-old son had been brought by family and was now fast asleep, resting his head on the edge of the bed. The woman’s hand rested gently on her child’s back.
The young man with the open femoral shaft fracture had his thigh immobilized in a plaster splint by an orthopedic doctor.
Although he was still hissing in pain, the pulse in his dorsalis pedis artery had returned. His leg was saved.
For the overweight, middle-aged man with crush syndrome, the urine in the bag hanging below his bed had changed from a murky, soy-sauce color to a clear, pale yellow.
The sodium bicarbonate treatment to alkalize his urine had worked. His kidney function was preserved.
Jiang He checked on them one by one, not saying a word.
In his mind, he rapidly cross-referenced each person’s physical exam findings with their current biochemical markers.
Everything matched up.
All of them had survived.
"How long are you going to keep making your rounds?"
A slightly hoarse voice came from behind him.
Jiang He turned around.
Zhao Yumin walked over, holding a chipped stainless steel thermos.
His face was weary, and his white coat was unbuttoned.
Zhao Yumin said, "You just got out of surgery. Shouldn’t you hurry up and find a place to lie down for a bit?"
"I couldn’t rest easy," Jiang He said honestly.
Zhao Yumin smiled and turned his head to look at the dozens of hospital beds in the hall.
"I was here back in ’03. This past May, when Affiliated Hospital No. 1 was designated as a rear receiving hospital, I was here for that too. I’ve worked in the ER for twenty years. I’ve seen too many people wheeled in only to be covered with a white sheet."
Zhao Yumin paused, then turned back to look at Jiang He.
"But tonight, of the seventeen critical, red-tagged patients sent to this hall, the mortality rate as of now is zero."
"Tonight, during that half-hour, if you hadn’t stepped up to triage, diagnose, and provide initial treatment, at least a few of these seventeen people would have been lost."
Zhao Yumin clapped Jiang He firmly on the shoulder twice.
"Yang Xu took on a good disciple."
"Tonight, I really have to call you River God."
Jiang He lowered his head slightly. "Teacher Zhao, you’re too kind."
"Alright, go to the orthopedic ER and get your foot checked out."
Thermos in hand, Zhao Yumin turned and walked toward the nurses’ station to begin another round of checking doctor’s orders.
Jiang He turned, ready to leave.
As he passed the debridement room, he saw Xu Chen sitting on a stool inside.
Hearing footsteps, Xu Chen looked up.
Their eyes met, and Jiang He said, "Good work."
Xu Chen gave a weary smile and then said softly:
"The old man with the scalp avulsion... I was the one who sutured it. Bro, could you see if there are any problems?"
Jiang He walked over and casually flipped open the medical chart on top of the pile.
The notes were recorded according to protocol. Although the handwriting was a bit shaky, all the treatment measures were written down clearly:
Ligate bleeding points, debride, suture.
Xu Chen lowered his head, looking at the dark red bloodstains he hadn’t yet washed off his hands.