Chapter 1 — The Patient I Saved Twice

I JUST SAVED HIM'S LIFE AFTER 8 HOURS OF OPERATIONS, I WAS EXTREMELY EXTREMELY 200,000 RMB. HALF YEARS LATER HE KNEW ON KNEES BEGGING ME. I stood for 8 hours in the surgery room, taking his life back from the hands of death. But as soon as he escaped death's door, he immediately wrote a complaint, accusing me of not clearly explaining the risks before the surgery.

“Compensate me 200,000 yuan, otherwise I will follow this case to the end!”

The hospital is afraid of making a big deal out of it. They told me to give in. I gave in. They told me to compensate. I also paid compensation. After receiving the money, he proudly showed it off to his friends:

"If you make a fuss, you'll have hundreds of thousands of yuan in your pocket."

Half a year later. In the middle of the night, his family rushed him to the emergency department. His whole body was drenched in cold sweat, his face was pale. The first thing he did was scream:

"I just need that female doctor! I don't trust anyone besides her!"

The nurse on duty typed a few times on the keyboard and then calmly replied:

“Sorry, because of your previous complaint, that doctor is no longer involved in emergency surgery.”

He was stunned. His mouth opened slightly, but he couldn't utter a word. Can't say either. The lights in the surgery room finally turned off. I pulled the sweat-soaked gloves off my hands, my fingers were so stiff they almost lost feeling. Eight hours. When the patient was brought into the operating room, his blood pressure had dropped to a dangerous level, almost like stepping one foot into Devil's Gate. It was I who snatched him back from the hands of death. The nurse helped me take off my surgical gown. I leaned my back against the wall, my legs shaking from exhaustion.

“Doctor To, please take a sip of water.”

I took the glass of water and before I could even bring it to my lips, the head nurse pushed open the door and walked in. Her expression was very unsightly.

“Tieu To, please come into the office with me.”

I followed her into the small room behind the nurse's station. On the table lay a piece of paper. It's a complaint. Complainant: Chu Chi Minh. It was the person I had just saved from the operating table. Complaint content:

"The doctor did not fully explain the risks before surgery and led the patient to sign a consent form."

I stared at those words three times.

"Chief nurse, this person is still in the recovery room. Where did this complaint come from?"

She didn't answer, just turned the paper over to the back. I see the date on the form. Three days ago. While surgery is being performed today. In other words... This complaint was written three days before I picked up the scalpel. My hands started shaking. This time it wasn't because of fatigue.

“Who receives this application?”

"The Department of Medical Affairs transferred it. They said the patient's family had already submitted it yesterday."

I laughed because I was so angry.

"Yesterday he was still preparing for surgery. His wife held my hand tightly, saying: 'Doctor To, our whole family depends on you.'"

The head nurse sighed softly.

"I also see a problem. But the Medical Department has already filed a file."

I put down the application and walked out. At the end of the hallway is the recovery room. Through the transparent glass, I saw Chu Chi Minh lying on the hospital bed. The numbers on the ECG monitor were so stable that they couldn't be more stable. He opened his eyes. See me. Even smiled. Then give the thumbs up my side. I stood silently in the middle of the hallway, still holding the glass of water from before. When did the water cool down? I turned around and went back to the dressing room. Opening the locker, my phone showed three missed calls. All are from the Department of Medical Affairs. I called back. The other end of the line immediately said:

"Doctor To, tomorrow morning the patient's family wants to meet to reconcile. Please prepare yourself mentally."

“What do I need to reconcile?”

“The patient's family wants to communicate directly.”

"I ask you, have you seen the date written on the complaint? The surgery has not yet taken place and the complaint has already been written."

The other end of the line was silent for two seconds.

"We know. But the process still has to be done."

The call ended. I sat down on the couch in the dressing room. The overhead fluorescent light makes an annoying buzzing sound. In my head, I replayed the entire surgery from beginning to end. During the pre-operative discussion that day, I sat with Chu Chi Minh and his wife for forty minutes. I explain each risk clearly. Hemorrhage. Infection. Nerve damage. Postoperative complications. Even the possibility of not being able to step off the operating table. At that time, his wife's face turned pale. On the contrary, Chu Chi Minh was extremely calm. He held a pen and signed the surgery commitment form. After signing, he looked at me and smiled:

“Doctor To, I believe you.”

The surgery consent form had his signature on it.