Overpowered Resident Doctor-Chapter 117: Mrs. Chen, I Can

On Wednesday morning, a handwritten apology letter began circulating online.

The letter was signed by Sun Yao, the father of the "bratty kid" at the center of the recent viral incident.

He began by stating that on the night of the incident, he had been having dinner with a client.

Upon hearing what had happened to his son and daughter, he was overcome with anxiety. Disregarding the fact that he had been drinking, he rushed to the hospital in his car.

As a result, he was taken to a detention center that very night for driving under the influence.

He only found out the exact details of the events surrounding his children yesterday evening.

Next, Sun Yao admitted that he had been so busy with work over the years that he had neglected his children’s upbringing, allowing them to become the brats everyone detested.

He promised to spend more time on his family from now on and to be more involved in educating his two children.

In the letter, he also issued a solemn apology, as the children’s father, for the harm caused to Yanyan that night.

At the end of the letter, Sun Yao stated that they had already reached an amicable agreement with the other party and resolved the matter completely.

He also expressed his deepest apologies for the matter taking up so much of the public’s time and attention.

Yan Ziruo tossed her phone lightly onto the dining table, a look of contempt on her face. "This is just disgusting."

"With a single handwritten letter, he’s completely absolved himself, subtly shifted all the blame to his wife, and even managed to paint himself as a responsible father."

Yan Ziruo picked up her phone again and showed the screen to Yan Feifan. "Feifan, look at this."

"Lots of netizens are commenting on his drunk driving that night. They’re saying things like, ’The crime is unforgivable, but the reason is understandable.’"

Yan Feifan chuckled. "The matter’s already resolved. Are you saying they’re not allowed a little PR spin to salvage their reputation?"

"Sis, you can stop worrying now. You can go back to sleeping in every day."

Yan Ziruo huffed. "I’m not a pig."

"Honestly, I thought we’d at least get some money for medical expenses. I can’t believe they just apologized and didn’t even mention a single cent in compensation."

Yan Feifan chuckled. "The Director said they aren’t hurting for a few thousand, or even tens of thousands."

"Since they were determined to resolve this cleanly and quickly, they naturally had to make sure their attitude was impeccable."

"That way, we wouldn’t reluctantly settle, only to turn around and tear them down online."

Yan Ziruo nodded. "The Director has a point."

"Even though I can see this apology letter is full of shameless lies, I have no intention of exposing him online."

She chuckled deviously. "When he gets out of that detention center, I wonder if his wife will make him kneel on a keyboard or a durian?"

"Oh, speaking of durian... my dearest brother, I’m craving some now."

Yan Feifan shot her a look. "Buy one yourself on the way home after your workout."

He added emphatically, "Remember, hide in your bedroom to eat it..."

Just then, Yan Feifan’s phone rang.

He pulled it out. Seeing the name "Dr. Chen Yu" flashing on the screen, he quickly answered the call.

"Left thumb replantation! OR Four! Quick!"

The message was brutally efficient. The line went dead before Yan Feifan even had a chance to acknowledge it.

Yan Feifan shot to his feet. "Sis, Dr. Chen Yu just called me in for a surgery. I have to go."

"Hey, you haven’t finished your—"

Yan Ziruo only got half the sentence out before her brother was already five or six meters away, so she trailed off.

She noticed he’d only eaten less than half of his meal and felt a pang of pity.

But there was nothing to be done about it.

When it came to an emergency surgery, to saving someone’s life, not a single second could be wasted.

However, no matter how urgent the situation, the first thing Yan Feifan did upon reaching the trauma surgery department was make a trip to the restroom.

Whether he actually had to go or not, a pre-exam or pre-op trip to the restroom had become a mandatory ritual for Yan Feifan.

Otherwise, it would feel like his mind was overgrown with weeds, seriously affecting his performance.

Yan Feifan jogged to the changing room in the second-floor surgical area and saw someone else was already changing.

Yan Feifan recognized him.

Yeu Quan, an attending physician in trauma surgery and one of Dr. Chen Yu’s students.

Yan Feifan picked out a set of medium-sized, sterilized and sealed blue scrubs, found an empty locker, and started to change.

"The Professor called you in again?"

Hearing the sudden question, Yan Feifan simply grunted in acknowledgment.

Immediately after, he heard a locker slam shut.

Yan Feifan understood why Yeu Quan was upset.

For a finger replantation like this, most of the procedure had to be performed under a surgical microscope.

The surgical microscope in the trauma department was equipped with two sets of eyepieces, allowing for only two people to use it at once.

One person acts as the lead surgeon while the other assists, both working within the same microscopic field of view.

The other assistants and nurses at the table could only follow along by watching the live feed on the large screens flanking the operating table, carrying out supportive tasks based on the lead surgeon’s instructions.

Yan Feifan’s arrival had undoubtedly snatched the first assistant spot that should have belonged to Yeu Quan, relegating him to the role of a secondary assistant doing grunt work.

Yan Feifan understood Yeu Quan’s frustration.

But this was a rare opportunity for learning and practice, and he wasn’t about to just hand it over.

There was no room for deference in a place like a hospital.

Everything you learned was an asset, and in the future, it might be what saved a patient’s life.

After changing into the short-sleeved blue scrubs, a surgical cap, and a mask, Yan Feifan went to the scrub-in area for Operating Room Four and began to scrub his hands.

After scrubbing his hands and arms until his skin was red, Yan Feifan entered the OR. He noted that an adult male patient had already been moved onto the operating table.

The lead surgeon, Dr. Chen Yu, hadn’t arrived yet.

The anesthesiologist was in the process of sedating the patient.

Two nurses were covering the patient’s body with sterile drapes, leaving only the surgical site—his left hand—exposed.

As for Yeu Quan, he was irrigating the severed finger in the tray.

This step was to flush any residual blood and other fluids from the blood vessels of the severed digit.

In addition, three young doctors in sterile gowns stood in the observation area about ten feet away, watching Yeu Quan and the nurses bustling around the operating table with envious eyes.

With a nurse’s help, Yan Feifan donned a sterile surgical gown and took his place as first assistant beside the operating table.

His first task was to check the surgical microscope—the position of the console, the height of the eyepieces, the clarity of the field of view, and so on.

He couldn’t base these checks on his own comfort; the standard had to be what was comfortable for Dr. Chen Yu.

Having worked with Dr. Chen Yu twice before, Yan Feifan remembered the specific settings clearly.

In truth, today’s surgical team was mostly composed of Dr. Chen’s regular members.

Someone had already taken care of these detailed preparations beforehand.

However, as the first assistant, it was Yan Feifan’s responsibility to perform the final check.

After his inspection, he recalled the settings from memory and instructed a nurse to make a few minor adjustments to the microscope.

Next, Yan Feifan began disinfecting and debriding the stump of the patient’s left thumb.

First, he used hemostatic clamps on the small arteries and veins leading to the thumb, then unwrapped the bandages around the wound.

The cross-section of the thumb was now fully exposed.

The patient’s left thumb had been neatly severed midway through the distal phalanx, cut at a thirty-degree angle.

The cut was remarkably clean, which made Yan Feifan’s work of disinfecting and debriding it much easier.

Just as Yan Feifan finished disinfecting and debriding the stump, Yeu Quan brought over the severed digit, which he had finished irrigating and cleaning.

At that moment, Dr. Chen Yu arrived at the operating table, fully prepped and scrubbed in, and took her position as the lead surgeon.

She first inspected the debridement and irrigation work done by Yan Feifan and Yeu Quan, then nodded in approval.

A nurse then moved the surgical microscope into position.

Chen Yu leaned into the eyepieces, tested the view, and said with satisfaction, "Good. Leave it like this. No more adjustments needed."

"Time is 12:58 PM. Beginning surgery."

After irrigation and debridement, the first step in replanting a severed digit is to set the bone.

Dr. Chen Yu used small pins and screws to set the phalanx.

This step was relatively simple.

The next part required patience and meticulous care: suturing the blood vessels, nerves, and tendons of the severed digit.

During this process, Yan Feifan’s job was to use microsurgical forceps to align and hold the ends of each vessel or nerve, making it easier for the lead surgeon to suture them.

As the surgery progressed, however, Yan Feifan began to have some doubts.

’Dr. Chen is off her game.’

Dr. Chen Yu’s suturing today was a notch below her performance on the previous two occasions.

The difference was minuscule, but Yan Feifan could perceive it clearly.

With the microscope between them, Yan Feifan couldn’t see Dr. Chen Yu’s face or her eyes, so he had no idea what was wrong.

After another ten minutes or so, he couldn’t stand it any longer.

Dr. Chen Yu’s performance was getting progressively worse.

To Yan Feifan, surgery was a matter of a patient’s health and life. To give anything less than one’s absolute best was unforgivable.

Unless, of course, one couldn’t reach peak performance due to objective reasons like physical or mental exhaustion.

But Dr. Chen Yu had only been operating for thirty-five minutes.

"Dr. Chen, are you feeling unwell?" Yan Feifan’s question was rather blunt.

"You noticed?" Chen Yu stopped operating.

At her signal, a nurse came and moved the microscope out of the way.

Yan Feifan saw that Dr. Chen Yu’s brow was tightly furrowed and her forehead was beaded with sweat, as if she were enduring some kind of torment.

Yeu Quan noticed something was wrong with Chen Yu as well and asked with concern, "Professor, what’s wrong?"

"I probably ate something bad for lunch. My stomach is acting up."

Chen Yu was now both angry and miserable.

In all her years as a doctor, she had never encountered such an embarrassing situation.

Chen Yu turned to the three in the observation area and ordered, "Go find Dr. Qiu or Dr. Lei. Ask them to come take over for me."

The three of them hurried out of the OR.

Less than three minutes later, word came back: Dr. Qiu and Dr. Lei were both in the middle of their own emergency surgeries.

Chen Yu was frantic. Her stomach was in knots, and her mind was even more so.

What a coincidence.

The only two other doctors in the department on duty today who could lead a digit replantation were both unavailable.

Yan Feifan noted the look of desperation on Chen Yu’s face.

He quickly ran through the entire procedure for a digit replantation in his mind, then suddenly spoke up. "Dr. Chen, I can take over and continue the surgery."

Yeu Quan, at his side, came to his senses and quickly chimed in, "Professor, Professor, I can do it too!"