August 23rd, Friday. Morning Handover.
In the doctor's office, a long oval table with a red lacquer finish was surrounded by hospital physicians and senior nurses. Behind them stood interns, junior nurses, and medical residents, all lined up in an orderly fashion.
Director Dong Congyue's booming voice echoed as he rapped on the table, "Is our department short-staffed?"
"Yes! We're desperate for help!" he answered his rhetorical question with a growl.
"Director Han is already 61. He could have retired, but he's still here mentoring a team because we need him. I'm 53, and even I shouldn't still be in the OR except for the toughest surgeries. And Director Dong here is already 47!"
"At our age, we should only be handling the most complex cases. But who in this department can handle nerve sutures and vascular sutures for replantation surgeries?"
He began naming names. "Zheng Zicong? Tao Yubin? Liang Hai?"
The three associate chief physicians lowered their heads like ostriches burying themselves in the sand.
Dong rapped the table again. "Surgical skill doesn't lie—it's all about what your hands can do. It's not that we don't want you on the table; it's that letting you operate would be irresponsible to the patient!"
"Our department has already lowered the standards for nerve and vascular sutures. Do you think our three-segment, four-segment sutures with a 95% success rate compare to Xiangya Hospital's six- or seven-segment sutures with a 99% success rate?"
"If you can't even suture a compression band properly, how can you ensure a functional, non-adherent tendon repair?"
"You need to step up. Director Han deserves to rest. At his age, he shouldn't be rushing to the OR for replantation surgeries day and night!"
"Let me make this clear: surgery is the most honest, skill-driven field in medicine. Results don't come from talking; they come from hard-earned skill."
Dong launched into anecdotes to emphasize his point:
Tendon Repairs: "Last year, the ER wanted to handle tendon sutures. I said fine—less work for us. But after botching a few cases and leaving workers disabled, the factories complained, and the cases were handed back to us." Skin Flaps: "In January, the burn unit wanted to take over cases of ulcerated skin defects, saying they wanted to match Xiangya Hospital's capabilities. By May, they'd killed two skin flaps, and the patients' families caused a ruckus. Those cases came right back to us."
"This proves one thing: skill is king. Flapping your gums won't get results. Only hard-earned technique will."
His impassioned speech left the young doctors with fiery determination in their eyes.
Surgical Day
Every Tuesday and Friday were surgical days for Gong Yi's team. After a quick ward round, Gong headed to the OR, leaving Zhou Yanqing's junior, Fan Ziwei, and the resident Zhao Gui to handle prescriptions and dressing changes.
In the locker room, as they changed into scrubs, the slender attending physician Li Zhong grinned at Zhou. "Yanqing, today's your first flap suture. Nervous? Excited?"
"A little of both," Zhou admitted, licking his lips. His bright eyes darted about, betraying his anticipation.
Zhou's two previous cohorts of seniors had never performed flap sutures before graduation. They often joked about how it was their dream to suture a flap in the OR.
Just days ago, Zhou himself thought flap sutures were a distant goal. But now, having mastered shallow tofu sutures, the opportunity was finally within reach.
Beside them, the rotund attending Tian Zeguang sighed dramatically. "I'm so overweight, and I don't even have time to lose weight. Zhong, when are you going to handle tendon sutures so I can take a break?"
Before the cycle of banter could continue, Gong Yi coughed pointedly. "Enough complaining. If I could take a break, I would. I'm 47 and still haunted by emergency surgeries, thanks to all of you!"
At that, the room fell silent, except for Li Zhong's cheerful laugh. Today's three surgeries included Zhou's flap sutures, which meant Li Zhong could finally take a breather.
In the OR
Hand surgery cases often involved skin defects or limb replantations. Emergency surgeries like replantations were urgent, while elective surgeries, such as skin flap transfers, were the department's bread and butter.
In today's flap transfer, Gong Yi, as the lead surgeon, handled flap design and isolated the nourishing arteries before separating the pedicle flap.
Associate Chief Physician Tao Yubin managed the defect site, preparing the area and suturing the vascular connections. Once the vessels were sutured, Gong would rejoin to suture the neural branches.
Even though Zhou had observed these surgeries countless times, he was still awestruck by the precision of Gong and Tao's teamwork. He dreamed of one day reaching their level.
For now, though, Zhou knew his limits. He wouldn't dare attempt vascular or neural sutures, where any mistake could lead to flap necrosis—a catastrophic outcome for the patient.
Instead, Zhou focused on what he could do: suturing the donor site and the flap's periphery.
The First Flap Suture
To find his rhythm, Zhou began with the donor site, combining tension-reducing techniques with precise suturing. His methodical approach and steady hands impressed even Gong Yi, who nodded in approval.
"Passing shallow tofu sutures and returning to this? You've nailed it on your first try. You've already surpassed beginner-level work," Gong praised, his spirits visibly lifted.
Tao Yubin wiped the suture site with gauze and remarked, "No bleeding at all? That's a fresh incision! Is the needle too small, or is the progress too fast?"
"Stop teasing my student," Gong retorted with a chuckle, shielding Zhou from Tao's jabs.
Tao's comment about "progress too fast" wasn't entirely a joke. Zhou's rapid advancement—from mastering tofu sutures to confidently handling flap donor sites—was almost unheard of.
But Zhou wasn't fazed by their banter. His focus remained on the task at hand.
He knew the truth: only skill honed through relentless practice truly belonged to him, not the compliments of others.