Surgery Godfather Chapter 211

Chapter 211: Chapter 0199: The Persistent Person

“Senior, here's the anatomical drawing you requested!”

Song Zimo spread the drawing with a bit of swagger.

Before drawing, he had reviewed many anatomy books and charts; while drawing, he referred to nothing, relying solely on his memory. He had checked several times—there were no mistakes.

The drawing is quite good, even more beautiful and detailed than anatomical wall charts, but Yang Ping only glanced at it casually and collected the picture. He crumbled it up in his hands, squeezing it tighter and smaller, then with a casual flick of his wrist, he threw the tiny ball several meters towards a trash can. It drew a beautiful parabola and landed precisely inside the bin.

“You may have misunderstood, or I didn't make myself clear— I didn't ask you to draw it well and then bring it.”

Yang Ping clapped his hands, walked to the whiteboard, and drew a whiteboard marker from the penholder, tossing it to Song Zimo.

“Draw it right here, right now, on the whiteboard. I'll need it for tomorrow's lesson.”

Song Zimo took the pen, standing there dumbfounded. He was sure Yang Ping would praise him, but he hadn't even looked at the drawing before consigning it to the trash can.

Well, he was used to it—this wasn't the first or second time he'd been shot down. Then he would just draw it right here, create an anatomical drawing on the whiteboard.

Yang Ping seemed to disregard Song Zimo's reaction, converging a few chairs into a makeshift bed, lying down on them, and covering himself with a sheet.

“Wake me up when you're done.”

“Make good use of your time and don't forget your original intention.”

With his eyes closed, Yang Ping threw out these two comments and then ignored Song Zimo, settling down to sleep.

Song Zimo twirled the pen in his hand, contemplating a moment. Without attempting to defend himself, he walked to the board, uncapped the pen, and began to draw on the whiteboard. He started to outline the shapes slowly and the skeleton gradually formed.

When Yang Ping entered the system space, he was surprised to see that he had accumulated over a hundred thousand points. He purchased training for five hundred cases of multiple traumas, and a hundred cases each of head, chest, abdominal, spinal column, pelvis, and limb injuries, adding up to nearly two thousand surgeries.

After completing this round of surgery training, Yang Ping didn't exit the space.

He utilized the test bodies for dissection, accumulating some anatomy and pathology data from trauma patients.

From the system's space, a waterfall falling from the sky in the distance looked majestic and magnificent.

This tree, compared to before, looked more robust, thriving and dense.

When he came out from the system's space, Song Zimo was still drawing.

Next to the whiteboard was a set of colored pens—some thick, some thin. He used them all to combine various colors.

He used red to draw arteries, blue for veins, orange for nerves, and black for the skeleton and muscles. The complete human anatomy drawing gradually appeared on the whiteboard.

Yang Ping had taken a short nap. By the time he was woken up, it was already past eleven at night, and Song Zimo had been drawing for more than an hour.

Yang Ping rubbed his eyes and looked at the anatomical drawing created with the whiteboard marker. It was still detailed, without any errors—Song Zimo's anatomical knowledge was up to par.

“Now that the system anatomy has passed, starting tomorrow, after each day's training, draw a localized anatomy on the whiteboard in this order: head, chest, abdomen, pelvis, the upper limbs, and the lower limbs—”

“Senior, I will work hard.” Song Zimo's hand was aching. He put down the pen and began to shake out his wrist.

“Go back now, get some rest early.”

It was late. Yang Ping packed up his things, picked up his backpack, and prepared to leave as well.

“Senior, why can Fujiwara Masao finish repairing a ruptured heart on his own in three minutes and twenty-four seconds?”

It was almost midnight, and he was still so persistent. What was scary was not that someone was smart. What was scary was when a smart person can put in several times the effort of others.

“Are you sure I know the answer?” Yang Ping put down his bag.

Song Zimo nodded, “If you don't, I reckon we'd have to ask Fujiwara Masao himself.”

“He used his left hand to manually stop the bleeding, and sutured with his right hand alone, finally knotting it.” Yang Ping told him.

“What suture method is this? I haven't seen it.” Song Zimo didn't know how to suture with one hand.

From what he knew, to repair a ruptured heart required an assistant, using a non-invasive suture with a 3-0 cushion attached.

To perform manual compression on the rupture with the left hand—if the rupture was small, the index finger could be used to press down; if the rupture was big, several fingers needed to work together to pinch the rupture closed.

Afterward, a cushioned 3-0 non-invasive suture would run through the full thickness of the myocardium of the rupture for a mattress suture. Each time a stitch was made, the assistant would help tie it off immediately, forming a step-by-step interrupted suture until the rupture was completely closed.

But Fujiwara Masao didn't have an assistant, and still managed to complete the operation single-handedly. Song Zimo had been perplexed about how he had done it.

“He used a continuous cross back-and-forth suture! It's a superior single-hand suturing technique, especially suitable for emergency situations when only one operator is available.”

A continuous cross back-and-forth suture? Song Zimo had never heard of this suturing method: “Where did this suturing method originate from? I've never seen it.”

Yang Ping picked up a marker: “It should be Fujiwara Masao's own creation. I simulated it based on the movement trajectory of his hand. Look—”

“Wait!” Song Zimo seemed to have understood something, he walked over and took the pen from Yang Ping's hand.

“I'm going to draw it so you can see if it's right.” After a hint from Yang Ping, Song Zimo immediately understood.

He drew a figure of continuous cross stitches on a blank space far from the human anatomy diagram and gave an explanation by the figure.

The first stitch is made from the starting point, the direction of the needle is perpendicular to the wound, and at this time the little finger and ring finger of the left hand hold tightly onto the thread end.

The right hand continues the stitching, from the second stitch, the direction of the thread is diagonal to the wound at 60 degrees, and after that, all stitches follow this pattern, creating a zigzag pattern.

The last stitch is the same as the first one, perpendicular to the wound, at this point, do not stop, the thread stitches back, mirroring the original path.

The second stitch on the way back resumes the angle of 60 degrees to the wound, continue the stitching, the last stitch falls in the symmetrical position to the starting point, by this time, the wound is completely brought together, then tie a knot.

During the whole process, every time a stitch is sewn, the index finger and the middle finger of the left hand are responsible for tightening the thread, pulling it tight against the thread clamped by the little finger and ring finger.

In this way, although the well-sewn thread has not been knotted, it is always able to tighten the wound, just like intermittent suture, only knotting at the end, with each stitch crossing back and forth.

“Yes, that's it.” Yang Ping praised sincerely.

“But if the index and middle fingers of the left hand are responsible for tightening and the ring finger and little finger are responsible for holding the end of the thread, leaving only the thumb, how to stop the bleeding with bare hands?” Song Zimo still didn't understand.

Stopping the bleeding with bare hands, whether with one hand or two hands, is not difficult for trauma surgeons, it's basic skills, but with one finger, if the wound is small it can be done, but it's almost impossible if the wound is large.

“Small wounds can be pressed with the thumb, large wounds can be stopped with the palm, including the Thenar and Hypothenar muscles.” Yang Ping dispelled his doubts.

Song Zimo finally understood, but if that's the case, the difficulty was overwhelming.

Both hands have to be extremely flexible, the five fingers of the left hand must do three different things, and the right hand must sew with one hand, operating purely by feel in a pool of blood.

The end result has to achieve the effect of intermittent suture with gauze, how high does this suture skill have to be!

“Fujiwara is really amazing! I heard that he has several very talented students, such as Takahashi Fumiya and Sasaki Jiro, who are known as the two heroes of trauma surgery in Japan.” Song Zimo said, from this stitching, you can have a glimpse of Fujiwara's level.

“In the affiliated hospital of Tokyo University, Fujiwara is like a god, he has many outstanding achievements that amaze people.” Director Han told Yang Ping about these.

“You can start practicing one-handed suturing tomorrow, holding the needle with one hand without the aid of the other hand, completing the suture.” It was late, and Yang Ping wanted to end this topic quickly.

“Grab that chest model, cut a five-centimeter hole in the heart, completely cut through the myocardium.” Yang Ping was going to demonstrate a one-handed continuous cross stitch.

Yang Ping took off his coat and covered his eyes.

Is he going to demonstrate a blind operation? Song Zimo's heart races.

Song Zimo knows that to perform a blind operation, you have to have an extremely good touch, even a slight deviation can not only lead to failure of the operation but can also hurt oneself.

“Senior brother?”

“Quickly finish the model!”

Song Zimo took the model and cut a five-centimeter hole in the heart and placed the needle holder with a threaded needle in Yang Ping's hand.

“Pay close attention, I will only demonstrate once, only you can learn this kind of blind operation.” Yang Ping cautioned.

Only the lights in the training room on this floor of the administrative building were still on, making this floor seem particularly silent and empty.

Yang Ping calmed himself, held the needle in his right hand, extended his left hand, and grasped the heart model with his palm, closed the wound with his Thenar and Hypothenar muscles and thumb, and brought the wound together neatly.

The right hand began to fly the needle and thread, judging the shape and position of the suture object and the length and direction of the wound based on the touch of his left hand just now, under the condition of blindfolded eyes.

The suturing was accurate and error-free, just like suturing with his eyes open.

During continuous cross-stitching, the little finger and ring finger held the thread end, and the index and middle fingers tightened the thread, and both hands worked like magic.

Soon, it was finished, Song Zimo had forgotten to time it.

After tying the knot, the wound was neatly squeezed together, tightly stitched. If it were a real heart, this quality of suture would absolutely not leak blood.

“You — can do this too?” Song Zimo managed to squeeze out a few words.

“It's a trivial skill, you can learn it too. Just start slowly, otherwise, the needle will prick your left hand. Start practicing tomorrow.” Yang Ping put down the needle holder.

“I really want to know why you are so obsessed with becoming a surgeon, you should have a lot of choices, at least more leisurely than now, at least not having to draw anatomy diagrams late at night. As far as I know, you were fainting from blood when you were studying, it was obstinate fainting, people with obstinate fainting cannot become surgeons, but you became a surgeon.”

Song Zimo was silent for a while: “That's right! The old me did faint at the sight of blood! I would fall down as soon as I saw blood, but nothing could stop me. I was going to the Mo Sixth's Trauma Emergency Center every day, facing streams of fresh blood. There was a period of time when I had to lean against a wall to walk and vomited upheavingly every day. This continued for a whole year before I was able to face blood squarely, nothing can stop me from becoming a surgeon.”

Song Zimo bowed his head, hung silent, cradling his face in his hands.

“You overcame even obstinate fainting, there isn't a difficulty that you cannot overcome.”

Yang Ping extended his hand, and Song Zimo grasped it tightly.

Chapter end

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