The Surgeon's Studio

Panda Novel

As it was still early winter, the temperature had not yet dropped drastically. Thus, the falling white confetti caked every surface it touched and instantly melted, forming a huge blanket of black ice when a cold breeze blew across it.

This was a very dangerous situation as drivers would not realize that the road surface had changed dramatically.

Snowfall in the middle of the night could reduce the risk of road traffic collisions to a certain degree.

However, it was the morning rush hour right now. Thirty to forty kilometers per hour was considered slow, but it was an entirely different story on an icy road.

Just as Old Chief Physician Pan finished his sentence, Zheng Ren watched a rear-end pile-up on the opposite main road through the office window.

Despite both emergency and regular brakes locking, the cars still slowly skidded across the black ice. It was a rare sort of despair to experience firsthand.

This would be one of those times, however.

As traffic was slow on the main road opposite the hospital, the collision merely resulted in small scratches on the cars, which was not a big deal.

Even so, a few meddlesome car owners would insist on a hospital checkup and admission for observation. It was unnecessary but a reasonable request.

Therefore, the emergency department could expect to be swarmed by patients today.

“Ding-ling-ling!” A classical ringtone came from Old Chief Physician Pan’s phone.

“Hello. Yes, I am.

“Okay. Rest assured, preparations have been made.

“Yes, and about the blood bank, I’ll send someone to collect all types of blood from the bank in the city center.”

Zheng Ren knew that something was definitely wrong from those words alone. His epinephrine level skyrocketed, endorphin pumped into his system, and the high-energy phosphate bonds within his cells hydrolyzed and released energy reserves for his body’s consumption.

“Witnesses claim that there were several injured in a large-scale traffic collision on Benteng Bridge. Ambulances are currently on their way to the scene, so it’s time for us to get ready as well,” said Old Chief Physician Pan.

When melted snow refroze, it formed a thin ice layer on the road surface, which made it extremely slippery. Although uncommon, it would still happen in Sea City once every few years.

Vehicles traveling on flat ground in urban areas were not hugely affected due to limited speeds, but the same did not apply to vehicles on the overpass.

The vehicles’ inertia combined with reduced friction between the tires and ice, one after another…

The picture in Zheng Ren’s mind was tragic, but he knew reality was usually more catastrophic.

He picked up the phone and gave Xie Yiren two tasks. The first was to inform the matron to count the surgical instruments and restock them in case they did not have enough. Secondly, he wanted the Chu sisters to check on anesthesia and other medication to minimize chaos during the upcoming rescue operation.

“Can you work?” Zheng Ren asked Chang Yue.

“No problem at all.” She stood and made herself a cup of Nescafe instant coffee.

Truly, Zheng Ren thought, Chang Yue behaved more like a man in drinking and at work…

“Come, let us wait in the emergency department,” Old Chief Physician Pan said, “We’ve to mobilize every department in this rescue operation too.”

These were, without a doubt, standard procedures.

The slippery road surface forced all vehicles to slow down. Even though it only took ten minutes to get to Sea City General Hospital from Benteng Bridge, the situation was completely different now and the ambulances would require at least half an hour to complete the journey.

…

…

Medical emergency protocol required the nearest hospital to mobilize ambulances to the crash site within three minutes of a distress call.

A few minutes ago, as soon as a siren blared, the doctor in charge of emergency rescue stood up abruptly, retrieved a first aid kit and, with a nurse, rushed to the ambulance outside the triage center.

The ambulance driver slammed on the accelerator and the anti-lock braking system instantly activated, causing the ambulance to drift ten meters across the pavement before he slowly regained control of the steering wheel.

“The road today is so slippery,” said the driver, terrified.

Normally, the siren on the ambulance was off when delivering patients with minor traumatic injuries or non-urgent illnesses, but in this sort of situation, the siren wailed like a baby in distress, emitting a sickening shriek.

Other vehicles carefully gave way to the ambulance when they heard the caterwauling.

However, even though most people knew the importance of giving way to an ambulance, it had to be done slowly due to the icy road surface.

It was normally five minutes away, but at such a snail’s pace, the ambulance finally reached the crash site more than ten minutes late.

Scanning the scene… They saw a long metal dragon of approximately thirty to forty cars crushed together with different degrees of damage; most of the vehicles made of thin sheet metal had been deformed.

The inertia of the vehicles sliding off the bridge had caused this huge accident.

The doctor quickly jumped off the ambulance, but he accidentally slipped and fell to the ground. The first aid kit in his hand flew out, gliding along the icy pavement before coming to a halt nearly twenty meters away.

“Little Song, are you alright?” asked a nurse out of concern as she carefully stepped out of the ambulance.

“Yes, I’m fine,” replied Doctor Song with a grin, enduring the pain that burned his hands and cheek.

It was obvious that the large abrasion on his face was equivalent to disfiguration, but fortunately, he was a man. If a female doctor had suffered from such an injury, she might have committed suicide after sending patients from the crash site back to the hospital.

Slowly and cautiously, he moved to the first aid kit, picked it up and started making his way toward the crash site.

“Doctor, here! I’m here!” someone shouted at the top of his lungs.

“I’m dying, please save me!” Doctor Song ignored the man after stealing a peek at him.

He followed his judgment and walked straight towards a heavily deformed car.

Eighty to ninety percent of those who could scream for help were fine due to their ability for articulation, but of course, “fine” only meant they were not on the brink of death. Doctor Song had even encountered a tough guy who had driven hundreds of kilometers on his motorcycle with a fractured tibia.

He noticed bloodstains on the door of the contorted car as he neared. Silence reigned inside the car and not a single wounded person could be seen around it. Moreover, he could vaguely outline a man lying in the passenger seat even from afar.

Something must be wrong!

“Doctor, help!” Lots of people cried for help along the way.

A choice had to be made at this moment. Doctor Song could always randomly send a victim back to the hospital as it was the most convenient and acceptable way to do so. In addition, he would not even need to risk fall-related injuries by climbing on the icy pavement.

Even so, he insisted on doing the right thing as a critically wounded victim would not survive until the next ambulance’s arrival. In that case, he had to send the victim with the most severe condition back to the hospital first.

After tumbling a few times, Doctor Song, whose face had become swollen and bruised, finally reached the deformed car.

The car door had fallen to one side. The driver, who had blood all over his face, was lying with his thoracoabdominal area resting on the steering wheel; it was impossible to tell if he was alive or dead.

Without hesitating any further, Doctor Song quickly grabbed the car door to stabilize himself so that he could pull the patient out of the car.

To his surprise, the door was so heavily deformed that a sharp metal edge sliced open his hand.

Crimson fluid oozed out instantly.

There was no time to deal with such a “minor injury”. Doctor Song firmly planted his feet on the pavement, grabbed the patient, unfastened his seatbelt, and yanked him out of the car with all his might.

Going down the slippery pavement was much more difficult than climbing up.

Doctor Song glanced at the ashen-faced patient and felt his thready pulse, which suggested internal hemorrhage. Staring desperately at the medical personnel—the nurse and paramedics carrying an empty stretcher trolley—still struggling to climb up the bridge, he instructed them to return and wait for him. Then, he lay down and stabilized himself with his feet before pulling the patient with him.

Just like that, Doctor Song slid down the black ice along with the patient.