Krafft's Anomaly Notes

Chapter 374 It is a matter of life and death

As the tip of the knife fell, the metal that had been forged, ground and polished thousands of times fell into the focal point of multiple reflective rays. There was no visual resistance at all, and there was an abnormal sense of unreality.

Until the red color began to seep out following the silver-white trail, Benny, who was far away on the other side of the room, leaned forward and let out a nervous inhalation as if he had seen blood for the first time.

Coop couldn't remember if he had described the procedure last night, but whether it was explained in advance or not, it was unlikely that a father would remain calm at the thought of having such an operation repeated on his own child.

Soon, he had no time to think about it.

"gauze."

Before the thought could begin, the white cotton fabric was picked up and handed into the outstretched hand, just as had been rehearsed.

He even felt that he didn't need to be reminded; as long as Kraft made a nasal sound of affirmation or dissatisfaction, he would naturally know what to hand over.

Under the pressure of gauze, the bleeding was initially controlled, and the thick scalp section that was cut could be seen. The frontal muscle layer twitched slightly in the field of vision, emitting a warm smell of rusty iron, which evoked the memory of the first time using a leaf hammer deep in my mind.

The shaved and blue scalp was clamped and pulled to both sides to expose the periosteum underneath, and the incision was continued and separated bluntly with the back of the knife.

The whole process is like tearing off a tough coating on the surface of a ball, and it is actually like that. Bleeding seeps out from the separation, and the floating surface is wiped dry by cotton cloth. The bleeding points that are not effectively compressed are burned and coagulated by heated fine metal wire.

When he saw the gray-white skull, Kupp glanced at the hourglass and saw that one-third of the tiny sand had flowed away. Perhaps because the area opened this time was larger, the progress was a little slower than ideal.

The next thing to come on stage is the special bone saw provided by the Xiguo family. This thing makes the operation look a lot more civilized than using a woodworking chisel, but not much. The main improvement is in efficiency.

Especially when the doctor has a clear expectation of the thickness of the skull, the concerns about using too little or too much force are greatly reduced. Amid the excruciating sound of sawing, a square bone plate about five fingers wide is slowly and evenly sawed out on the bone surface.

After a few minutes, the bone plate loosened. The prying pick was inserted into the gap, and with a slight "click", the bone plate was carefully removed and stored in boiled and cooled salt water.

After opening the window of the mind, what we saw was the familiar dura mater. Previous hematoma removal operations were limited to this level, but this time it was much deeper.

A smaller and thinner knife was replaced on the head, the dura mater was cut crosswise, the edges were fixed with sutures, and the brain was turned open to all sides.

Gray-pink, moist, soft tissue with many grooves - the frontal lobe. At this point, the operation has entered the real brain area, and the center of all thoughts is presented in front of us in a vivid way for the first time.

"Get ready," Kraft whispered.

Even though I was expecting it, the feeling still made me uncomfortable.

Repeated exposure did not desensitize him, but instead made his perception clearer, and he almost felt like he could see the thing.

Huge and soft, it opens like a giant soft-bodied creature, penetrating into every inch of space, bringing a contradictory feeling between disgusting and complex and gorgeous.

Kraft's movements became faster in sync. Deep inside where light could not reach, he could detect subtle pulsations, which were the reflection of the blood power source in the nerve core through the complex blood vessel branches, and also warned them that they were touching the blood-rich area.

By this point, even from the closest assistant's position, it was almost impossible to see the details.

The operating body has been replaced with fine tweezers that are not much thicker than a steel needle. They separate the tissues that wrap around the brain and the tiny and dense blood vessels at the base of the skull, and clear the space.

Then, a retractor with a slender handle and a wide, flat blade is inserted to gently lift the brain tissue, lifting the frontal lobe a little bit to expose the space underneath.

"Silver clamp!" Before the words were finished, liquid gushed out from the blind spot of light and quickly occupied a corner of the surgical field.

Without waiting for Kupp's reaction, Kraft handed the retractor to him, freeing his left hand to operate the second pair of tweezers and pick up the required object from the instrument tray - a small silver clip that was similar in shape to a staple but much smaller.

The tweezers held in the right hand had already reached deep into the blurry black and red, clamping the bleeding point that was impossible to see, and the spread of the liquid suddenly stopped.

The silver clip slides in along the fine forceps and is fixed and closed. The cotton strip follows closely to absorb the remaining bleeding.

"It's okay. It's just a small vein."

Raising the frontal lobe just two horizontal fingers took several times longer than all the previous work. The hourglass turned over twice without noticing, and half of the operation time had passed.

His hands began to tremble, especially his left arm. He could only perform the operation intermittently when he had stable movement. Anyone with a discerning eye could see that he was no longer suitable for delicate operations.

Fortunately, there was only one and a half people here who could see what he was doing.

Sweat kept dripping from his hairline, stinging his cornea. Kraft simply closed his eyes. He didn't need to be reminded that the limit was approaching, waiting for him at a certain point that he could feel.

The retractor was handed over to the assistant again, and Kraft held the forceps in both hands and reached out to the gray-white tumor lurking in the sella turcica, at the deepest part of the surgical field.

It hijacks the pituitary gland that controls secretion regulation, steals its function to achieve its own purposes, and controls systemic changes using less than one ten-thousandth of its body weight.

If you cut a little less, the disease will relapse; if you cut a little more, the pituitary gland will be damaged and death will occur faster.

If the surgeon here was an ordinary person, even an experienced veteran, he would be doomed to fail - no, under the same conditions, he might not even be able to do this.

But the person here is not an ordinary person, and the most difficult step of the operation has been completed for him.

"Hold on, get ready."

As rehearsed in yesterday's practice, the spirit body took the initiative to contact the pain entrenched in it, and the distress and torment gushed out, knocking on the defense line of reason, and instinctively wanted to tear apart the curtain separating the present world and the afterlife.

The surgery is to do the exact opposite. He wants to control the manifestation of this pain, to shape the force of the tearing layer, like a canal controlling a flood, so that it can be turned into a trickle and precisely directed to the required location.

In the game between madness and reason, catharsis and control, he won again.

An extremely precise crack was created at just the right position, separating the tumor from the pituitary gland, and the boundary between life and death.

The tumor is clamped with tweezers, easily removed and placed on the white gauze on the plate. A small cotton ball the size of a soybean is applied to the wound to apply pressure to stop the bleeding. The whole process is completed in a breath, as fast as the moment when swordsmen decide the outcome.

The patient's breathing was stable, he was in good condition and was in deep sleep.

The fourth flip of the hourglass was coming to an end, a lucky operation. Kraft even had the last bit of energy to carefully suture the dura mater, replace the bone flap, and hand over the position to Kupp to suture the scalp and disconnect the mental senses.

Perhaps it was the sense of accomplishment, or perhaps it was the last burst of adrenaline, but amidst the waves of side effects and fatigue, he still stood steadily in front of the operating table until the ceiling came into his field of vision at a strange angle.

The college entrance examination will be held tomorrow. I wish all candidates good luck in the exam. In addition, those who are interested in applying for clinical medicine should think twice before making a decision.

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