Chapter 22

The surgeon pulled it off. The challenge was a success!

Everyone was full of sighs, as if they’d just gotten off a rollercoaster.

Hong Zhigang sat there, unmoving. His curiosity piqued about this junior who he had lost contact with for over ten years.

Stable hands, pushing the surgery forward at a speed of a bundle every ten or so seconds. In this way, just around four to five minutes were required to anastomose a nerve. In effect, all three nerves were reconnected in just over ten minutes. This was the speed of proficient hand surgeons performing neural anastomosis.

Hong Zhigang marveled. It was no wonder he had the audacity to use the fascicular method. Honest to God, the outcome of the fascicular stitching technique was far superior when repairing peripheral nerves compared to the epineural stitching. Given a limb amputation, if you don’t consider function and focus solely on survival, it’s meaningless. Many patients after limb reattachment, because the reattached limb doesn’t function, choose to have it amputated. It’s a burden. The functionality of a reattached limb post-surgery hinges on the restoration of damaged nerves. If sensory nerves don’t recover, patients are prone to burns, frostbites and, at times, ulcers due to breakdown of skin. If motor nerves are not repaired, limbs can’t move and they’re merely a burden.

For the second amputation site on the forearm, they followed the same sequence and method as before.

The blood vessels are getting tinier. The amputation site on the hand, anastomoses were done on the superficial and deep palmar arches, four veins, and thirteen tendons.

This was no longer exciting enough to hold everyone’s interest. Many chose to take a break and the barrage of comments declined sharply. It seemed like everyone was waiting.

When they started on the fingers, everyone had to forcibly bring their attention back. While the fascicular method is impressive, it’s limited to stitching nerves and it’s hard to draw a conclusion. Now, the core technique of microsurgery—the anastomosis of finger blood vessels—was about to commence!

The barrage of comments reduced considerably, as everyone tuned in intently, afraid of missing any detail.

—

“We’ve been waiting for this! Finger blood vessels, they’re stitching the finger blood vessels now.”

—

“Would you want to take a short break? Let Song Zimo take over for a bit, catch your breath? I can scrub in as well.” Old Han suggested.

Yang Ping replied, “I can still hold on. I’ll let you know if I can’t.”

Old Han went back to observing the screen, he knew what was at stake.

After all, even if it was reattachment of an infant’s severed finger, it was a familiar knowledge, this adult’s blood vessels were several times larger than an infant’s and would be so much easier to operate on. What Old Han was concerned about was fatigue, as fatigue can diminish one’s abilities.

Whether due to fatigue or to best control power to avoid causing tearing force on the vessel wall, Yang Ping slowed down. This allowed Song Zimo to take the opportunity to enter under-microscope surgical field and assist.

Song Zimo took a deep breath and adjusted to his optimal state. While Yang Ping was tired, he was recharged. He was prepared to catch up with the rhythm.

The instruments and sutures, like spirited little elves under the microscope, weaved in and out. They maintained a certain speed without causing significant tension from the friction between the thread and the blood vessel wall. The best balance was achieved between the two.

Yang Ping was like a machine operating under the command of his brain. His body was highly coordinated. Even his breaths were terrifyingly even.

From Old Han’s perspective, Yang Ping looked like a sculpture, calm and focused. Apart from his hands, every other section of his body remained still. There was no sweat on his forehead like there was supposed to be.

At this moment, even if the earth shook and the mountains moved, he probably wouldn’t be affected. He was completely immersed in another world, his own world.

In this world, surgery was everything!

—

“So perfect it leaves one breathless!”

“I doubt that the surgeon is a person. Could it be a state-of-the-art surgical machine? Each stitch is so perfect—only a machine can achieve that level of perfection.”

“The Chief Surgeon has been leading all along!”

“Is this an advertisement for Redbull?”

“No, it’s for Viagra!”

“Finally, the assistant has come into view.”

“Let me repeat, this is Beijing. Top three hospital. Our top microsurgeon admits to being no match. Yes, I’m saying this on the record.”

“Look closely, not a single stitch needs adjusting.”

“This is as easy as sewing skin for me. Who plays like this? Do they want us to live?”

“Ah! How can the difference be so great?”

“The world is so vast; I want to go see it!”

—

Operating room.

“Director Han!” Dean Sun must have walked in at some point.

Dean Xia was in command in the meeting room, while Dean Sun was in charge of coordination in the operating room.

“Everything is going smoothly!” Old Han replied as he turned around.

Dean Sun whispered something into his ear. Old Han then got up to go out with him. They walked out of the operating room and the automatic door opened. In the family waiting area, an elderly woman, with the support of a young woman, was walking over. A few young men were following them.

The elderly woman held a handkerchief, incessantly wiping away her tears. Dean Sun introduced her, “This is the mother of our hero.”

Old Han immediately stepped forward to shake her hand in salute.

The elderly woman composed herself and said, “Doctor, could you try to reattach Qiangzi’s thumb as well?”

The thumb? The thumb wasn’t found, so it couldn’t be reattached. The only option was reconstruction during the second phase. After this surgery is successful, at least a month later, another operation would take place. A toe would be taken and attached in place of a thumb.

The old lady hesitated for a moment, then said, “Could you take my thumb and attach it to him?”

“Take mine! Take mine!” The young men behind her chimed in simultaneously.

This goes completely against medical principles! For someone else’s finger to be attached, it requires intricate treatment, such as immunosuppressive therapy to prevent rejection, otherwise, the transplanted tissue won’t survive because of rejection. The cost of such treatment is high, the price is too great. In cases of kidney or liver transplantation, the objective is to save lives, and there aren’t any better alternatives, so no matter how high the cost or how big the price, it’s worth it! But fingers are different, even if lost, they don’t affect life, especially when there is a better option–constructing a new thumb from a free second toe.

“No! Definitely not!” Old Han patiently explained.

“Please! Doctor, can you take a toe as you just mentioned?” the old woman asked.

“Yes!” Old Han said.

“Then why wait, can it be done now?” the old woman hastily asked.

“That’s also not possible, it’s too dangerous! This operation should be left for the second phase. Wait until this operation is done, and the limb has survived, then consider taking the toe to replace the thumb. Doing this operation now would not only prolong the operation time, but if the limb reimplantation fails, a toe would be wasted for nothing.” Old Han maintained patients.

“I see!” The old woman was very disappointed.

She then pleaded, “Doctor, please try to find a way.”

“Doctor, it’s fine, we are willing to take the risk. If Qiangzi were awake, he would definitely agree.” The young woman said.

“No!” Old Han decisively refused.

The family members didn’t want to push any further and turned to leave.

Old Han felt that he was too harsh, so he lowered his voice and asked gently, “Could you tell me why you insist on this?”

Upon hearing Old Han’s words, the family members felt they saw an opportunity and immediately returned. The old woman said, “Doctor, Qiangzi’s father is hospitalized and the doctors say he won’t last much longer. He heard about Qiangzi’s accident and is very worried. We told him that Qiangzi’s hand was reattached and didn’t lose a finger. He is very stubborn and insists on seeing it for himself. He is already on his way here. If he sees Qiangzi missing a thumb, especially on his right hand, he would worry a lot–he probably won’t last until the next surgery, we want him to pass away peacefully.”

Old Han was silent for a moment and said, “We will try our best to find a solution, but we must prioritize saving lives.”

“Of course, thank you!”

Old Han returned to the operating room and looked at the patient’s vital signs on the monitor, “How’s it going, can the patient still tolerate it?”

The anesthesiologist said, “The young man’s situation is fine, it’s just that he’s losing a lot of blood. There are no other injuries, as long as the blood transfusion and fluid replacement can keep up, it shouldn’t be a problem, he should be able to withstand another ten or so hours.”

Old Han looked at the timer on the wall panel, good God, it’s been over three hours already. If they could finish the reconstruction of the thumb within an hour, extending the time should not be a problem.

But, is it necessary to take this risk? The patient is under general anesthesia and cannot be consulted. Old Han paced back and forth in the spacious area of the operation room. Then he sat down and rhythmically tapped his fingers on his thigh.

There’s no question about Yang Ping’s capabilities, but after several hours of work, fatigue is inevitable and energy will decrease. I don’t know if he can keep going.

If not, I will have to step in.

—

“I’ve guessed it, this is deliberately done by Mo Sixth. Is the surgery performed by Professor Hong Zhigang?”

“Professor Hong just spoke at the video conference, how could he be in two places at once?”

“Then it must be his rising star–Professor Wen.”

“Stop talking, it’s not Mo Sixth!”

“How can you be so sure.”

“Professor Wen is right in front of us.”

“Holy Moly! Big shot from Beijing, respond.”

“It’s not me!”

Professor Wen, Professor Hong Zhigang’s most-admired student, Song Zimo’s idol. In the industry, there’s a story about this–

Back in the day, Professor Hong recruited a graduate student who had a high talent for microsurgery, but after the interview, he disappeared and said he wouldn’t pursue a Masters degree. When Professor Hong investigated, he found that the young man was working at a private orthopedic hospital. He then went to the hospital in haste.

After a face-to-face discussion, it turned out that the man was in a financial bind. His father was hospitalized due to illness and he was going around trying to collect medical fees. He reluctantly gave up pursuing a Masters degree to keep working and earn money.

On the spot, Professor Hong declared, “In that case, you come and join the Masters program. Tell me, how much money do you need to solve your current difficulties? Give me your bank account number, I’ll transfer it to you. Plus, I’ll cover your tuition for the next few years.”

The man was so touched that he was barely able to hold back his tears. He was so grateful he wanted to kneel and bow. This way, Professor Hong got a rare talent, the kind that comes once in a veritable blue moon.

This graduate student was Professor Wen–Wen Rentao. He studied for both a Master’s degree and PhD under Professor Hong, and later studied abroad. He eventually stayed at Magic City Sixth Hospital and became Professor Hong’s most outstanding deputy.

Wen Rentao is a peak figure of the younger generation in orthopedics. He’s made breakthroughs in multiple fields and published several papers in the international top-tier journal, The Lancet, garnering a high citation rate.

This story spread in the industry, to the extent that those who could not afford to pursue Master’s degrees were advised, “Why not pursue your Master’s under Professor Hong Zhigang at Mo Sixth?”

—

“This isn’t surgery, it’s a car race!”

“A rollercoaster ride!”

“Finally it’s over, restoring the thumb now and reconstruction in a second stage!”

“Meeting is over!”

“Bring in your clothes, it’s raining!”

There was a moment of silence.

“Holy Moly, what does that mean? This isn’t a set up for reconstruction… They’ve opened up the snuffbox? Blood vessels being examined? Are they going to do an emergency reconstruction?”

“They’ve gone insane. Truly insane! You’re already impressive enough. Are you really going to challenge the absolute limits?”

“I feel dizzy!”