Top-tier doctoral supervisor, reborn as a first-year graduate student in standardized residency trai

Song Zhe walked into the office carrying the documents.

"Director, the results of the last test are in."

Lin Hanchuan took the report and opened it with his head down.

Gu Lin also turned his gaze over, quickly scanning several pages of data. One particular value made him pause for half a second.

Before Song Zhe could even look, he stood to the side, observing the expressions of the two men, and felt increasingly uncertain.

"How did it go?"

Gu Lin didn't rush to answer. He pulled up the previous test results and reviewed them again.

A few minutes later, Lin Hanchuan closed the report again.

"About what I expected."

Song Zhe was taken aback, and his eyes widened involuntarily.

"Is this okay?"

Gu Lin pointed to the computer screen.

"Yes, Zhou Mingyuan is more likely to respond to subsequent combined treatments than ordinary patients."

A resident doctor next to him opened his mouth, his tone still hesitant and uncertain.

"So... this direction can really be continued?"

"It can continue, but the risks remain."

"The probability of developing an immune response, fever, or even other side effects will be higher later on."

Lin Hanchuan handed the document back.

"Notify the oncology department to revise the treatment plan tomorrow."

"it is good."

Song Zhe took the documents and turned to leave. The doctors exchanged glances; although they didn't speak, their expressions were clearly different from before.

Because everyone knows that if the subsequent treatment is truly effective...

Zhou Mingyuan's case is likely to become one of the most unique cases in gastrointestinal surgery this year.

The oncology consultation officially began the following morning, and the discussion of the treatment plan took longer than expected.

Combination therapy is not something that can be done in a single sentence.

The order of medication administration, the body's tolerance, the postoperative recovery, and even the possible immune response all need to be reassessed.

The meeting ended close to noon.

Song Zhe came out of the conference room, feeling somewhat dazed.

"Damn it, now I finally know why people in the oncology department lose hair every day."

Gu Lin twisted his sore neck.

You'll get used to it.

"Why do you sound like you've been doing this for years?"

Gu Lin blinked but didn't reply.

In the afternoon, the first round of treatment officially began.

Zhou Mingyuan sat on the edge of the bed, a new indwelling needle already inserted into the back of his hand.

His wife sat beside him, barely saying a word.

She didn't ask a question until the nurse came in with the medicine.

"Doctor, is this treatment... really hopeful?"

Song Zhe subconsciously looked at Gu Lin, who remained silent for a few seconds.

"No one can guarantee the outcome."

"But at least it's better than doing nothing."

The woman nodded slightly, but her hands remained clenched tightly.

For the first two days after the treatment began, things were actually quite stable, and Zhou Mingyuan was even in the mood to joke around.

"Dr. Gu, am I now considered to be receiving high-tech treatment?"

Gu Lin was looking at the monitoring data when he heard this and smiled.

"Calculate."

"Does that mean I can brag about it now?"

Zhou Mingyuan smiled.

"Just say that you are different from others."

But in the early hours of the third day, a problem still arose.

The doctor's office phone suddenly rang, and the nurse on duty sounded very anxious.

"Dr. Song, patient in bed number 28 has a fever!"

Gu Lin and Song Zhe exchanged a glance and got up from the duty room almost at the same time.

In the ward, the monitor beeped, Zhou Mingyuan's forehead was covered in sweat, and his breathing was noticeably faster than during the day.

Body temperature, 39.2°C.

Song Zhe's expression changed.

"Draw blood first to check infection markers!"

The nurses quickly began to treat her. Zhou Mingyuan's wife was clearly panicked. She grabbed Song Zhe's hand as if it were her last lifeline.

"Doctor, why is my fever so high all of a sudden? Is something wrong?"

Seeing the anxious expression on the other person's face, Song Zhe's mouth moved, but before he could speak, Gu Lin had already walked to the bedside.

"Brother Zhou."

Zhou Mingyuan struggled to open his eyes.

"Um……"

Do you feel tightness in your chest?

"A little."

"Nausea?"

"good……"

Gu Lin glanced down at the monitor.

My heart rate is fast, but my blood pressure is relatively stable.

He reached out and flipped through the latest test results, then his gaze slowly settled.

Song Zhe asked in a low voice.

"Does it look like an infection?"

Gu Lin shook his head, looked at the indicators again, and then slowly spoke.

"I think it's more like an immune response."

Are you sure?

"The infection markers haven't fully spiked yet, but the inflammatory response has already begun."

Gu Lin handed over the test results.

"And time flies by too fast."

In the hospital ward, Zhou Mingyuan's wife was already crying anxiously.

"Doctor, what's wrong?"

Song Zhe subconsciously looked at Gu Lin. At times like this, the worst thing is to make the wrong judgment, because once the direction is wrong, the entire process will go wrong.

Gu Lin remained silent for a few seconds.

"Proceed by handling both directions first."

"Reduce fever and rehydrate."

"At the same time, notify the oncology department for a consultation, and then repeat the indicators again."

"it is good."

Ten minutes later, Lin Hanchuan arrived at the ward. As soon as he entered, he saw Gu Lin flipping through the latest test results.

"How is the situation?"

"High fever."

"But currently it's more of an immune response."

Lin Hanchuan took the test results and looked at them for two minutes.

"Continue to observe, don't stop the plan yet."

The doctor on duty next to him hesitated for a moment.

"Director, isn't this too risky?"

"The plan was decided jointly by the MDT (Multidisciplinary Team). The indicators haven't reached the point where we must stop yet, so we'll continue to observe."

At this moment, Zhou Mingyuan was lying on the bed, his forehead covered in cold sweat.

Gu Lin stood by the bed, watching the numbers on the monitor keep changing.

He actually knew that now was the time to really start gambling.

At 3:40 a.m., the lights in the ward were on very brightly.

The monitor beeped regularly, the infusion pump ran continuously, and the air was filled with the smell of a mixture of antipyretics and disinfectant.

Zhou Mingyuan had a high fever, his forehead was soaked with cold sweat, and his breathing rate was significantly faster than during the day.

Song Zhe stared at the newly released re-examination results, his brows furrowing deeper and deeper.

"White blood cell count is not significantly elevated, and procalcitonin levels are not high either, so infection does not seem to be the main cause."

The on-duty doctor next to me said in a low voice.

"But his fever has reached 39 degrees Celsius, we can't just keep observing him, can we?"

Lin Hanchuan put the lab report back at the foot of the bed, his gaze lingering on the monitor's parameters for a few seconds.

He then reached out and opened Zhou Mingyuan's latest medical record, speaking at a steady pace.

"Replenish the fluids first, continue to reduce the fever, and monitor the inflammatory markers dynamically."

"Also, add a blood gas analysis tonight."

The night shift nurse nodded.

"it is good."

Zhou Mingyuan's wife stood by the bed, her eyes already red.

"doctor……"

"Is there a problem with the treatment?"

Song Zhe instinctively wanted to say a few words of comfort, but realized that saying "it's okay" was meaningless at this time.

Gu Lin took half a step forward, his voice low but steady.

"It's not out of control yet; we're keeping a close eye on things."

The woman clutched the hem of her dress; tears streamed down her face, making her eyes bright, yet they appeared veiled by a thin mist.

The ward fell silent again as Gu Lin looked down at the lab reports.

The most troublesome thing is not the high fever, but what this high fever actually means.

If it is an infection, then the entire treatment plan needs to be reassessed.

But if it really is an immune response, then it means that the previous assumptions might be correct.

A few minutes later, the new blood gas analysis results arrived.

Song Zhe had just received it, glanced at it twice, and handed it to Lin Hanchuan.

"The lactic acid is alright."

"Oxygenation didn't drop significantly either."

Lin Hanchuan quickly scanned the data and then said something in a low voice.

"We can still hold on."

Song Zhe let out a long breath. At this moment, Zhou Mingyuan slowly opened his eyes. The high fever made it difficult for him to speak.

"Director Lin..."

"Am I... holding everyone back?"