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Zhang Lin had worked the night shift yesterday so according to the roster, he was off-duty today. Yang Ping, who also worked the same shift as Zhang Lin, was naturally on break.

Despite rest days being stated in the schedule, for doctors, they are merely for show and have no real significance.

Busy until after three in the afternoon, when he finally had lunch, he really wanted to take a break. But once back in his room, the phone rang before he could even settle down.

A surgery was on the horizon, involving a severed finger. Director Han specifically requested Yang Ping’s involvement.

How could there be so many cases of severed fingers, it wasn’t like it was Singles Day.

Yang Ping quickly crossed the sky bridge. Just after descending, he crossed a small square and there was the emergency department.

At the entrance, two security guards stood guard, helmets on heads, protective clothing on bodies, batons and shields in hand; they were like wardens at the gate.

The spacious emergency room was bustling. Regardless of whether it was doctors, nurses, or patients, everyone was in a hurry.

Even, some life hurriedly withered away.

The disorder made Yang Ping’s head buzz. From fights, car accidents, drunkenness, shouting, bickering, crying; all mixed up. Without a certain psychological quality, one really cannot endure this place.

“Do you believe I could kill you? There’s blood oozing from my head. Just how long must I wait? Must I die here before you rescue me?” a man in his forties with a scarred face cursed at a pregnant nurse.

A pregnant woman still working the night shift? Goddamn, until one hits a certain month of pregnancy, one still has to diligently pull night shifts. Otherwise, there wouldn’t be enough people. What were you thinking, claiming your pregnancy to a head nurse, and following which, the head nurse patting you on the shoulder saying: ‘Good girl, go home and take care of your baby, no need to do night shifts.’ For a nurse, this scenario is fairy-tale level.

Not only do pregnant women have to pull night shifts, but pregnancies need to be scheduled too, you can’t simply conceive whenever you want.

That’s right, you have to line up. It’s your turn this year and hers the next. If pregnancies are not planned, if everyone gets pregnant all at once, that particular department would indeed collapse.

Recruit more nurses? Hmm, easy for you to say. Among the most in-demand professions, I reckon nursing would definitely crack the top ten. As for emergency and pediatrics department nurses, they could easily take the cake.

“I’m sorry, you need to wait. The doctors are currently busy with a rescue, you need to wait a bit longer.” The pregnant nurse was practically pleading.

With a slap, scarface hit the reception desk in the emergency room: “Wait for nothing! Is this not your blood leaking out?”

If not for the high and wide marble doctors’ counter, this slap would’ve landed on the nurse’s head.

Yang Ping was just considering going over to intervene.

“Hey, what are you doing? Hold your horses.” Two security guards drew their batons from their belts and walked over in their leather boots. Scarface was abashed and stopped his aggressive behavior.

The hospital’s security is pretty good, Yang Ping thought.

This jerk, actually, the nurse had already done some basic bandaging to stop the bleeding. It’s just that a bit of blood was seeping out of the gauze, probably was waiting for the doctor to clean the wound and stitch it up.

Yang Ping shook his head, he was used to such incidents. Allegedly, in some hospitals’ emergency departments, all the doctors’ consultation rooms are uniformly next to windows that are left open.

Why? Because right beneath the windows are thickly padded mats.

They are meant for emergency department doctors to escape using when dealing with annoying people who assault doctors. They can immediately jump out the window and escape. The mats offer protection against injury.

Passing through the emergency room, Yang Ping made a right turn into the emergency trauma room.

Swipe the access card, the explosion-proof door swings open. The central island is where the doctors and nurses converge. Around it are evenly distributed computers and phones. There are dozens of emergency beds arranged in a circle around the room, separated by curtains.

“The heart has stopped, begin cardiopulmonary resuscitation, get the defibrillator!” One bed was involved in resuscitation, the doctor was drenched in sweat, pressing hard on the patient’s chest.

“Closed-chest thoracic drainage; tension pneumothorax; urgent consultation with the thoracic surgery department.” Another bed was being disinfected, ready for closed thoracic drainage.

“20% mannitol, quick intravenous drip.”

“Perform a tracheotomy.”

“Put on the ventilator.”

——

The emergency department, particularly the trauma room, is a battlefield without gunpowder smoke, where doctors and nurses are warriors battling with death.

Several phones were ringing non-stop.

The on-duty nurse had a receiver pressed to her ear and was speaking loudly while grabbing another receiver with one hand. Her gaze was already on yet another receiver that had just begun ringing.

A few receivers were swapping places in her hands and at her cheeks like a juggling act.

“Bed 3!” Although Yang Ping was new, the nurses had sharp eyes. Just a distant glance at Yang Ping’s nameplate and they knew he was an orthopedic surgeon. She pointed to one side.

The on-duty doctor was talking with Song Zimo: “A little over a month old, female, all five fingers on her left hand severed—”.

A small baby lay on the bed, her left hand wrapped in bandages. Perhaps oblivious to the pain, she wasn’t crying, her eyes darting around as if searching for something.

“Where’s the severed finger?” Song Zimo asked.

A nurse took out a transparent film bag from a small fridge, inside which the severed finger was kept.

So small? Of course it was!

How big can the hand of a two-month-old baby be?

A woman in her thirties was sobbing next to the bed. A man was trying to comfort her.

“Can it be reattached? Doctor, I beg you,” she asked, her eyes swollen from crying.

Upon inquiry, the emergency room doctor said that the child’s mother was pushing the baby in a stroller at a supermarket when she got distracted by her mobile phone. On an escalator, she didn’t pay attention and the stroller toppled over. The baby’s hand became trapped between the escalator and the landing. All five fingers were crushed and retrieved only when maintenance staff dismantled the escalator.

Director Han was having a conversation with Director Xiong from the emergency department.

The emergency room doctor was holding a freshly printed informed consent form, his voice hoarse as he discussed the situation with the distraught mother. The conversation was broken up a few times by the mother’s sobbing.

“Xiao Yang, have you checked on the patient? Song Zimo will be performing the surgery, are you alright with assisting?” Director Han waved over Yang Ping who had just arrived.

Director Han was planning for Song Zimo to perform the reattachment of the baby’s severed finger, which was considered extremely challenging due to the minute blood vessels involved. Song Zimo’s skills in microsurgery were well known to Director Han. He was adept in handling blood vessels as thin as 0.1 mm.

“No problem at all, I’ll cooperate fully,” Yang Ping answered without hesitation.

“Excellent!” Director Han made swift arrangements: “Let’s prepare for the surgery immediately, we can discuss more in the operating room. Grab a snack from the department – there’s high-calorie chocolate and biscuits. We have already eaten. Dereplantation of a baby’s severed finger is rare and challenging. Keep up your spirits!”

“Understood, we will complete the task,” Yang Ping responded seriously.

Director Han, much like a seasoned military general, was calm and efficient.

After sharing some instructions with Director Xiong, he hurried off to the operating room.

Song Zimo, who was a bit unhappy, followed behind Director Han, wanting to speak up.

“Director, Director, Director–”

“Perhaps Director Tian should assist instead? I’m afraid this operation might be too demanding,” Song Zimo finally voiced his concerns.

His concerns were valid. Known for his exceptional talent, Song Zimo had practiced countless times on man-made blood vessels of 0.1 mm diameter or even smaller, and had stitched the tails of newborn mice countless times before being confident enough to undertake such a baby finger reattachment operation.

Director Han paused to think: “Director Tian can assist with the finger prep while you join the blood vessels. He just finished an open pelvis fracture surgery and must be tired. Yang Ping managed a two-hour severed finger surgery the last time. Assisting you should not pose a problem. If indeed necessary, I’ll step in.”

With the Director’s assurance and contingency plan in place, Song Zimo couldn’t argue. But he remained a bit upset.

Complete blood count, blood type, biochemical tests, liver and kidney functions, coagulation tests, four infectious disease tests, electrocardiogram–

The emergency department staff worked like disciplined soldiers. Although it seemed chaotic, everyone knew their roles, and co-operated seamlessly and efficiently.

The nurse drew blood for the tests. Once tube after tube of blood was filled, they were quickly sent off to the lab for automated analysis.

The electrocardiogram was wheeled in. Leads were fastened onto the baby quickly and accurately. The machine spit out readings characterized by their distinct wave patterns.

“The ECG is normal,” the doctor announced, after looking at the results.

“The operating room is ready. Let’s transfer the patient,” shouted a nurse from the central island.

The doctor gave an OK sign with his hand.

The baby was pushed on the gurney towards the operating room, via a dedicated route and elevator.

The mother, tears streaming down her face, held onto the side of the gurney and asked, “Can I go with her into the surgery?”

“No!” The emergency doctor mechanically pushed the gurney on without pausing.

After several attempts to persuade his wife, the father finally managed to make her let go.

“Crying all the time … what were you doing earlier? Couldn’t even keep an eye on her on an escalator, always on your phone! Did your phone give birth to your child?”

The child’s grandparents, unable to hold it in any longer after watching the medical staff push the gurney away, yelled at their daughter.

“Mom and dad, please, stop criticizing her,” the child’s father pleaded.

The elderly couple couldn’t resist rebuking further: “She’s our child, we can’t scold her? And you too-“