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

As soon as the door to the intensive care unit opened, Stephen's assistant ran out.

"The blood energy results are in!"

He held the freshly printed lab report in his hand; the paper still retained the warmth of the printer.

Before the test results were even delivered to Ye Zhen, Robert, standing outside the reporters' cordon, had already craned his neck to see the two numbers at the top.

He immediately picked up the tape recorder.

The red indicator light is on.

"Dr. Ye, your blood oxygen saturation is only 83 percent, and your lactate level is 4.1 percent."

Robert raised his voice, and the reporters in the back row all turned to record.

"A normal person's blood oxygen saturation should be above 95%. The child's is currently only 83%, and the lactate level is more than double the normal value."

"The average viewer would probably have the same question after seeing this result."

"Does this mean that the surgery you designed didn't actually solve his oxygen deficiency problem?"

The shutters of cameras around them clicked continuously.

Stephen stepped forward and took the test results from his assistant.

After listening to Robert's question, he held up the test results in front of him.

"Turn off the recorder first."

Robert didn't do as instructed; instead, he moved the machine forward a little.

Stephen's voice immediately rose.

"This child cannot be diagnosed using the standards for normal biventricular circulation!"

"His heart had four serious malformations, his left ventricle was almost underdeveloped, and his pulmonary vascular bed was in very poor condition. Before the surgery, his blood oxygen was only 65 percent and his lactate was 9.2 mmol/L, so he had to rely on prostaglandins to maintain blood flow."

"The first stage of surgery has just ended, and the artificial shunt has been in place for less than two hours."

Stephen touched the numbers on the lab report with his finger.

"Blood oxygen saturation is 83%, and lactate levels have dropped from 9.2 to 4.1. Do you know what this means?"

Robert opened his mouth, but did not answer.

Stephen continued to explain.

"Benjamin's circulatory structure is not normal. Blood is still mixing between his systemic and pulmonary circulation. At this stage, our target blood oxygenation range is 80% to 90%."

"Eighty-three, which is right within the target range."

"If we forcibly raise his blood oxygen level to 95 now, there may be too much blood flow to his lungs, which will reduce systemic perfusion. At that point, his blood pressure, kidney perfusion, and cerebral blood supply may all be affected."

Robert's expression froze.

"So you're saying his blood oxygen level is low, but actually normal?"

"I'm referring to the need to maintain a balance in postoperative circulation."

Stephen turned the lab report over to the back.

"Blood oxygen saturation alone cannot determine the outcome of surgery. It must also be considered in conjunction with lactate clearance rate, mean arterial pressure, central venous pressure, urine output, and pericardial drainage."

"His lactate level was 9.2 before the surgery, and dropped to 4.1 less than two hours after the surgery. This indicates that his tissue perfusion is recovering."

"Given the extent of Benjamin's deformity and the time elapsed since his surgery, any heart center in the United States that receives this result would immediately continue with the existing treatment plan."

Several reporters from a medical weekly were taking notes.

Blood oxygen levels were between 65 and 83.

Lactic acid is 9.2 to 4.1.

The target blood oxygen saturation range is 80% to 90%.

Ye Zhen did not participate in the debate.

She took the lab report from Stephen and checked the pH, electrolytes, and free calcium in turn.

"Don't use the health standards of ordinary people to diagnose critically ill post-operative children."

Robert was also holding up a tape recorder.

This sentence was recorded in its entirety.

Ye Zhen ignored him.

Whitman.

Someone immediately responded from behind the crowd.

"exist."

Whitman squeezed in, carrying a notebook, the pen already capped.

Ye Zhen began to give medical advice.

"Adjust the dopamine pump rate to five micrograms per kilogram per minute."

"Prostaglandins should be retained for now and administered via infusion at the lowest maintenance dose. The ductus arteriosus must not be closed abruptly at this time to avoid new hemodynamic fluctuations."

Urine output is recorded every fifteen minutes.

"Check arterial blood gas every half hour."

"The nurse will record the results as usual, and you will report the test results to me in real time to reduce intermediate communication links."

Whitman quickly finished writing and then checked it over from beginning to end.

"Five micrograms per kilogram per minute. Minimum maintenance dose of prostaglandins. Urine output in fifteen minutes, blood gas analysis in half an hour, reported by myself."

"Go and carry it out."

"it is good."

Whitman closed the whiteboard and turned to enter the intensive care unit.

Harrison then stepped forward.

"I am responsible for the child's central venous pressure and pericardial drainage. If the value exceeds the warning range, I will notify you immediately."

Ye Zhen nodded.

"Focus on recording trends, don't just report individual results."

"it is good."

Stephen handed the previously signed single-case authorization form to his assistant.

"Send them to the intensive care unit and the hospital's medical affairs department for registration."

"Dr. Ye will adjust Benjamin's treatment plan for tonight. Emergency orders will be executed first, and I will be responsible for completing the necessary review and signatures according to the procedure. Treatment must not be delayed due to procedural reasons."

The assistant took the document and left immediately.

The press area fell silent again.

The three North American cardiac surgery directors each took on a task, and no one questioned Ye Zhen's arrangements anymore.

Gu Zheng walked up behind Ye Zhen and took the cardboard box from her arm.

He raised his hand again, blocking the tape recorder that Robert was handing him.

"Interview concluded."

Robert refused to back down.

"Mr. Gu, the public has the right to know the true condition of the sick child."

"The data and explanations from just now have been recorded."

Gu Zheng pushed the tape recorder back outside the cordon.

"You have the right to conduct interviews, but she also has the right to eat and rest."

Several reporters wanted to ask more questions, but Gu Zheng had already called in hospital security personnel to maintain order at the scene.

He escorted Ye Zhen through the corridor and into an empty family lounge next door.

The door closed.

The door lock clicked softly, and the conversation outside quieted down considerably.

Gu Zheng placed the cardboard box on the table and pulled out a chair.

Ye Zhen stretched the back of her neck and reached for her medical record book.

Gu Zheng first pressed down on the medical record book.

"Benjamin only has his blood gas checked every half hour. There are 27 minutes left."

He pushed the military green insulated lunchbox in front of Ye Zhen.

"Let's eat first."

The lunchbox lid was opened, revealing a hot bowl of congee with preserved egg and lean pork, along with two small compartments of light green vegetables and steamed eggs.

Ye Zhen held the spoon but didn't move immediately.

"Where did you get this?"

"I had someone find a Chinese restaurant in Chinatown to make it fresh."

Gu Zheng took two tissues out of his pocket and placed them beside her.

Ye Zhen scooped up a spoonful of porridge.

The porridge was at the perfect temperature. The rice was cooked until soft, and the minced meat was finely chopped. After a few bites, my stomach, which had been empty all day, finally felt much better.

After Ye Zhen finished the last bite of porridge, Gu Zheng put away the lunchbox.

"Lie down and rest."

"Call me in an hour; I want to see the results of the follow-up examination."