After being separated from my family, I became a darling of the military region thanks to my medical

The nurse's shout brought everyone in the corridor to a halt.

Stephen was the first to turn around.

"How many?"

"Sixty-eight, it just dropped as low as sixty-six." The nurse was panting heavily. "Lactate is nine and two, blood pressure is eighty-eight to fifty-six, the prostaglandin dosage has been increased, but the blood flow through the catheter is getting weaker and weaker."

Ye Zhen shoved the medical record into Xu Wenqiang's arms.

"lead the way."

The nurse took off running.

Harrison followed closely behind, shouting as he ran, "Notify operating room number three! The pediatric extracorporeal circulation team is in position! Prepare the microsurgical instruments!"

Ye Zhen's steps remained steady.

"Don't give them high concentrations of oxygen."

The nurse in front of her was taken aback.

Ye Zhen spoke quickly: "The target blood oxygen level is 80 to 85, don't chase it to 90. Over-dilation of pulmonary blood vessels will cause the systemic circulation to collapse even faster."

Stephen turned to look at her.

Ye Zhen didn't stop.

"Set the prostaglandin E1 pump speed to 0.08 micrograms per kilogram per minute, prepare dopamine, and have a small dose of adrenaline on standby. Check blood gas every ten minutes; if there is no arterial line, place it now."

The nurse looked at Stephen, who nodded. "Do as she says."

The nurse immediately pressed the earpiece and transmitted the command to the intensive care unit.

Gu Zheng lagged half a step behind, casually brushing aside two reporters who were trying to catch up.

One of them, holding a tape recorder, shouted, "Dr. Ye, are you prepared to take on this case?"

Gu Zheng raised his hand, his palm facing Gu Zheng's chest.

"Step back."

The reporter abruptly stopped.

Gu Zheng didn't say anything more and turned to follow into the closed passage.

Chaos had broken out at the entrance to the neonatal intensive care unit.

A blonde woman leaned against a wall and cried, while a man next to her clutched a critical condition notice in his hands.

Next to the incubator, two nurses were adjusting the pump, the anesthesiologist was bending over to listen to the patient's heart, and the numbers on the monitor were dropping steadily.

Sixty-seven.

Sixty-six.

Sixty-five.

Ye Zhen raised her hand before entering the room.

"Sterile gloves".

The nurse handed it over instinctively.

She put on gloves, stood next to the incubator, quickly scanned the tubing, pump speed, and monitoring data, and then listened to the murmurs in the precordial region.

The noise level has decreased.

The ductus arteriosus is closed.

Ye Zhen reached into the control window, touched the child's limbs, and then pressed the groin pulse.

Bedside ultrasound.

The technician had already pushed the machine over, and as soon as the probe was lowered, a thin stream of blood appeared on the screen.

Ye Zhen stared for less than ten seconds.

"The room traffic is still manageable, the left atrial pressure hasn't ruptured, so we won't use a balloon ostomy yet."

Stephen immediately replied, "Then let's proceed with the plan from your lecture hall. Modify the BT shunt and add pulmonary artery constriction. Operating room number three is already open."

Ye Zhen took off her gloves, which were stained with coupling gel.

"I need a microsurgical needle holder, eight single-stranded sutures, a 3.5 mm artificial blood vessel, pulmonary artery banding material, heparin, protamine sulfate, and at least two units of blood."

"It's all yours."

Stephen turned and ordered, "Prepare as she says."

Just then, a woman in a dark suit walked in quickly with two staff members.

"Wait a moment."

Stephen's face darkened.

"Martha, this is not meeting time."

Legal counsel Martha opened the folder and spoke faster than a nurse.

"Professor Stephen, I must remind you that Dr. Ye does not have a medical license in Minnesota, nor does she have formal clinical authorization at Mayo Clinic. She can participate in discussions as an intraoperative consultant, but she cannot perform surgery independently."

Ye Zhen looked up.

Do you have a head of pediatric cardiac surgery?

"Yes," Martha immediately replied. "Chief Whitman is already in the operating room. He can act as the lead surgeon. Dr. Ye can provide guidance from the side."

A tall, white doctor walked in through the door, his hat already on.

"I am Whitman." He glanced at Ye Zhen. "I am willing to take this case, but according to the Mayo Clinic system, the final decision rests with the surgeon."

Ye Zhen put the ultrasound probe back on the tray.

"Then do it yourself."

Whitman was taken aback.

Harrison panicked: "Dr. Ye..."

Ye Zhen ignored him and spoke directly to Whitman.

"Did you just listen to the proposal?"

Whitman frowned: "I heard most of it."

How is the first phase of patient diversion calculated?

Whitman paused for half a second.

Ye Zhen continued: "What is the target pressure gradient between the right ventricle and pulmonary artery after the band is tightened? If the blood oxygen level drops below 60 during the operation, should the band be loosened first or the pump be added first? Why can't the last two stitches on the posterior wall of the anastomosis be tightened?"

Whitman's face tightened.

Ye Zhen threw the gloves into the medical waste bin.

"If the crucial steps are handed over to someone who hasn't fully grasped the plan, the child will be in an awkward position."

Martha's face darkened: "Dr. Ye, legal risks can't be resolved with just a few words."

"The child is dying, and this can't be resolved by simply mentioning legal risks."

Ye Zhen spoke in a very flat tone.

"You want me to be your advisor? Fine. I'll write down my suggestions. As for who makes the surgery, they'll take responsibility."

She pointed to the monitor.

"But don't make me stand by and watch someone else take away a child who could still be fought over."

The blonde woman suddenly rushed over, but was stopped by the nurse.

"Please, please, save my child!"

Ye Zhen looked over.

"I can save him, but I need the authority to perform the surgery."

Martha closed the folder.

"Without a license, the hospital cannot issue one."

Stephen stood there, motionless for several seconds.

The monitor reading jumped to sixty-four.

The nurse shouted, "Blood pressure 82-52!"

Harrison's voice tightened with anxiety: "Stephen, stop delaying!"

Stephen raised his hand.

"Martha, bring me the single-case emergency authorization file."

Martha froze: "You want to start that?"

"Now."

"That requires a professional guarantor's signature, proof of emergency medical necessity, and confirmation from at least three members of the ethics committee."

Stephen reached out his hand.

"document."

Martha didn't hand it over.

"If you sign, you will be held responsible for all subsequent medical liabilities. This includes the risks associated with her procedures, lawsuits from the family, and reviews by the state medical board."

Stephen took the folder from her and turned to the temporary authorization page.

"Pen."

Nobody moved.

Gu Zheng took a pen out of his breast pocket and handed it over.

Stephen took it and signed it immediately.

Stephen M. Hall.

Professional guarantor.

After signing, he pushed the document to Martha.

"The first one is here."

Harrison took the documents.

"I'll sign the second one."

He was writing very quickly, leaning over the cart.

"The child was suffering from persistent hypoxia, and the ductus arteriosus was on the verge of closure. Conventional treatments offered no feasible approach. Dr. Ye's proposed staged circulatory reconstruction is currently the only resuscitation plan with a practical implementation."

The signature fell.

Footsteps came from the doorway.

Old Cohen pushed his way through the crowd and walked in, still clutching the hardcover notebook he had just used.

"I'll sign the third one."

Martha frowned: "Professor Cohen, you are not a member of this institute."

"That's why I signed the opinion of the external expert."

Old Cohen pulled a blank evaluation form from her folder and began writing.

"Cleveland Clinic, Raymond Cohen. I have reviewed the case file and Dr. Ye's surgical plan and believe that current standard North American consultation conclusions do not provide a path to survival. Without surgery, the child's mortality rate is in the hours. Dr. Ye possesses the technical skills required to complete this procedure."

He paused at the end and added a sentence.

"It is recommended to grant single-case primary surgery authority."

After he finished signing, he put the pen cap back on.

Whitman stood to the side, her face alternating between red and white.

Stephen looked at him.

"Whitman, you can join the surgical team as an assistant. If you accept, go ahead; if not, leave now."

Whitman gritted his teeth.

I accept.

Martha's face changed completely as she held the three signed documents.

She turned to her assistant and said, "Contact the chairman on duty for the ethics committee, immediately. Fax three documents and record the phone call for confirmation."

The assistant ran out with the documents in his hand.

Ye Zhen has put her gloves back on.

Where are the child's parents?

The nurse moved aside.

The blonde woman and the man were led to the bedside.

The man's voice was hoarse: "His name is Benjamin, not 9087."

Ye Zhen nodded.

"I understand. Benjamin."

The man stared at her: "What's the success rate of the surgery?"

The entire ward fell silent.

Ye Zhen stared into his eyes.

"First, without surgery, he will die very soon after the ductus arteriosus is completely closed."

The man's shoulders swayed.

Ye Zhen wrote the second line.

"Second, the surgery must first involve intraoperative circulatory reconstruction. If there is a problem with any of the following: the shunt, the constriction zone, or the right ventricular load, he may not survive the operation."

Third line.

"Third, after surgery, there is a period of shunt stabilization and a 24-hour low cardiac output period. That period is very dangerous; thrombosis, low cardiac output, and uncontrolled pulmonary blood flow can all be fatal."

The blonde woman cried so hard she couldn't make a sound.

The man's voice was even lower: "So you're not giving me a success rate?"

"Yes, I can't give it to you."

Ye Zhen put down her pen.

"There aren't enough samples to give Benjamin a good number right now. If I were to casually say 80%, I'd be lying to you."

Ye Zhen glanced at the baby in the incubator.

"You sign the papers, and I'll take him to the operating room now."

The woman grabbed her husband's hand and, almost sobbing, said, "Sign it."

The man took the consent form, his hands trembling violently.

Martha rushed back and placed the temporary authorization confirmation page on the table.

"The Ethics Committee's duty chair verbally confirmed that all three members have given their consent by phone. Emergency authorization for this single case is in effect. This is limited to Benjamin's case and to this specific rescue effort."

The man signed his name on the informed consent form.

He handed the pen to his wife.

After the woman finished signing, she pushed the paper in front of Ye Zhen.

Please bring him back.

Xu Wenqiang's voice stopped halfway through translating.

Ye Zhen took the document and turned around.

"Take him to the operating room."

The nurse immediately pushed the incubator.

Gu Zheng followed to the side, raising his hand to block all the people who surrounded him.

"Give Way."

Everyone in the corridor moved to the sides.

The door to operating room number three was already open, and the anesthesia team was waiting inside.