Medical Center.
Operating Room.
"There's pooled blood in the lower-left quadrant of the abdomen."
Dr. Burke reminded him, "Do you know where it's coming from?"
"Give me vascular clamps and four 0 absorbable sutures!"
Adam answered with action. "Done. Suction it out and clean it up."
"..."
Dr. Burke shook his head.
Every time he saw that speed, it still left him deeply shocked.
Especially in a situation like this, where surgical speed determined the operation's success and the patient's life hung by a thread.
The impact of that speed was even stronger.
"Let's see the result."
Adam looked up and smiled. "Dr. Lewis, remove the hemostat!"
"Yes!"
The Rookie Intern answered with tremendous spirit.
In that short time, he had been utterly won over by Adam's skill.
Nothing in the world could possibly be cooler than this!
This was the very reason he had embarked on the path of becoming a surgeon, and the direction he wanted to pursue!
"No pulse."
The nurse warned.
Adam reached out and felt the aorta. The previously stagnant vessel immediately began expanding and contracting.
It was the regular throbbing of an artery following the heartbeat.
"Reperfusion complete!"
Dr. Burke nodded.
"Looks like we saved this little girl."
Adam smiled. "Good work, everyone."
Cheers and laughter immediately erupted in the Operating Room and the Observation Room on the second floor.
"Should we notify the patient's family immediately?"
the Rookie Intern asked.
"Not yet."
Adam glanced at him. "The normal procedure is to tell them after we're done.
What happened before was not normal.
Families complain that doctors are hard to talk to and unwilling to promptly give them the information they need.
That isn't negligence or arrogance.
It's standard procedure.
In the current medical environment, how could doctors dare say too much?
Take this