The Surgeon's Studio

“Why don’t we ask him?” Department Chief Xia said with much thought. Before Director Zhang could speak, Department Chief Xia hollered down the corridor, “Chief Resident Zheng, could you come over for a bit?”

“Hold on a minute,” Zheng Ren’s voice sounded from the changing room.

“Ah! So hasty. What if Chief Zheng asks for a high price?” Director Zhang asked.

Director Zhang’s worry was not baseless. There would be no negotiations once Zheng Ren quoted a price.

The Secondary Hospital could take it or leave it.

If the quoted amount was more than 5,000 yuan… A patient who could fork out that much cash would have gone to Provincial Capital, Imperial Capital, or Sorcery Capital for the TIPS surgery.

Director Zhang sighed.

“What’s the matter, Chief Xia?” Zheng Ren walked toward them in his white coat.

“Old Zhang wants you to perform a TIPS procedure in the Secondary Hospital. How much would you charge?”

“Charge?” Zheng Ren was confused. He had not thought of that aspect.

He was not given a single penny in the past. How would he know what to charge?

Money was of little importance to a man like Zheng Ren.

He was used to his current lifestyle and more money would change little. Furthermore, an additional 10,000 yuan in his bank account would mean nothing to Xie Yiren’s parents.

“We have to give you a consultation fee for your services, or else the scarcity of the skill is not reflected. It is also a respect to the medical personnel,” Director Zhang said carefully. “But, the financial status of patients who visit the Secondary Hospital…”

Director Zhang subconsciously addressed Zheng Ren with deference.

“It won’t be an issue,” Zheng Ren said with a grin. “The money’s not an issue, but the communication to the patient and family has to be done right. TIPS is a risky procedure.”

Here laid the problem: oftentimes when people said it was not an issue, it meant otherwise. Director Zhang mulled over his options.

As a man part of the hospital bureaucracy for more than a decade, Director Zhang would not take Zheng Ren for his word.

With a dour face, Director Zhang offered the highest amount he deemed appropriate. “Chief Zheng, how about 5,000 yuan per surgery? Would that be alright?”

“Sure. Just send me the patient’s scans and let me know if there’s any contraindications. If the condition is very severe, there’s no need for a fee. The Secondary Hospital is not too far away,” Zheng Ren replied casually.

Director Zhang was astounded.

Was he for real?

These days, no professor would agree to perform surgery for free. What nonsense was this?

Yet, Zheng Ren was before him with a sincere smile. His kind eyes suggested he meant what he said.

“Don’t worry, the patient’s family might not have money, but I have some resources set aside. The hospital can offer some assistance to cover the 5,000 yuan fee. Your contribution is vital to this,” Director Zhang said. He wanted to cement their deal.

Department Chief Xia smirked.

Zheng Ren chuckled and said, “Arrange as you see fit, as long as safety measures are taken care of. All the preoperative checks have to be done properly. It bears repeating that TIPS surgery is a very risky procedure; this has to be communicated to the patient’s family.”

Risky? Zheng Ren did not have to remind him. Director Zhang’s worry and Zheng Ren’s worry clearly did not overlap.

“Chief Zheng, will you be performing the surgery solo or bringing an assistant to the Secondary Hospital?” Director Zhang asked softly.

“I’ll bring my assistant.” Zheng Ren did not mind making use of Professor Rudolf’s expertise when it came at no cost.

Director Zhang’s heart skipped a beat.

With a Heidelberg University professor in tow… How much would that cost?

Zheng Ren noticed the change in expression on Director Zhang’s face and quickly clarified, “It’s alright. The professor’s assistance won’t cost anything extra.”

Director Zhang was speechless.

Things were going much smoother than planned, but Director Zhang still felt uneasy about the agreement.

“Oh, can your hospital perform a diffusion-weighted MRI?” Zheng Ren asked.

“Yes, yes,” Director Zhang replied, nodding.

“I will need some diffusion-weighted MRI scans of the liver. Once it’s done, courier them to me so I can have a look. Apologies in advance for the trouble,” Zheng Ren said. He turned to say goodbye to Department Chief Xia before leaving for the control room.

“See, Old Zhang. Matters: simplified. You’ve been spending too much time in administration, too much overthinking,” Department Chief Xia commented.

Director Zhang gave her a bitter smile, but perhaps the old woman was right. This young doctor was quite the innocent.

Hold on, a preoperative diffusion-weighted MRI?

Why? The liver would have been viewed under a contrast-enhanced MRI or 64-slice CT scan. Why did Zheng Ren require a diffusion-weighted MRI scan? This was not a brain surgery.

By the time the question registered in Director Zhang’s mind, Zheng Ren was long gone.

He decided to go in and ask Zheng Ren.

He asked Department Chief Xia for a pen and some scrap paper before hurrying into the control room. “Chief Zheng, about what you said earlier, the patient needs a diffusion-weighted MRI. What else was there?”

Director Zhang did not doubt Zheng Ren’s expertise, but he wanted to understand the method.

Zheng Ren listed the preoperative procedures, “The routine blood work, ensuring brain and heart function are optimal for surgery. Then, inform the family about the risk associated with TIPS surgery; they have to be able to accept the high risk before proceeding.”

Everything was as per a routine surgery except for the diffusion-weighted MRI.

Director Zhang nodded as he wrote down the instructions on the paper. Once he had everything, he folded the paper neatly and pocketed it.

The attentiveness to detail was a sign of respect for Zheng Ren.

It was improper to have a specialist repeat themselves.

Mutual respect could bridge a relationship between two parties. There was no shame in respecting someone who was of lower status than oneself.

At this point, the bleeding from the puncture wound was staunched and Professor Rudolf and the team were moving the patient onto the gurney. Once that was done, the professor removed his surgical gown and came into the control room.

“Lil Fugui, there are a few more TIPS patients in the coming days,” Zheng Ren said.

“Sure. The more the better, but make sure the pre-surgery check is stringent. Let’s not have any unwanted incidents in the operating room,” Professor Rudolf replied in a Northeastern accent.

Director Zhang’s heart swelled when he heard the familiar lilt of Northeastern Mandarin from the professor’s mouth.

“Do you have any objections about the fee? It’s 5,000 yuan per surgery,” Zheng Ren asked.

Professor Rudolf Wagner did some calculations and converted the fee. “650 euros?”

“Around there.”

“I don’t need it.”

“You deserve part of it,” Zheng Ren said.

“Boss, I earn 15,000 to 20,000 euros per elective surgery back in Heidelberg. A referral letter cost 5000 euros. I don’t need to split 650 euros with you,” the professor said matter-of-factly. “This is — how do you guys say it — pro bono?[1]”

[1] The chinese word is 奉献精神 but I can’t think of a more apt word than pro bono.