After being separated from my family, I became a darling of the military region thanks to my medical

The operating table in the underground laboratory had just been cleaned when Zhou Jianjun was carried onto it.

The blinding searchlight shone on the horribly sunken right chest, the blood and sand mixed together, a scene so tragic it made one's scalp tingle.

Li Hong jogged over, panting heavily, clutching a newly opened size 12 latex catheter in her hand.

Ye Zhen put on sterile gloves and walked to the bedside.

"Tracheal intubation." She spoke very quickly, conveying an undeniable sense of pressure.

The local military doctor was sweating profusely, his hand holding the laryngoscope was trembling, and it took him a lot of effort to barely insert the endotracheal tube into the glottis.

Ye Zhen snatched the catheter, dipped gauze in sterile paraffin oil, and quickly applied it to the catheter.

There are no fiberoptic bronchoscopes available here.

There are no visual guidance devices.

This means that accurately inserting the catheter into the right main bronchus relies entirely on the surgeon's touch and blind insertion. If it's inserted into the left side, the left lung will also be blocked, and the person will die on the spot.

Luo Jingshan stood two steps away with his arms crossed.

Behind him followed four or five elite personnel from the Xi'an Military Region General Hospital, each with a livid face. This unorthodox method of using a catheter as a balloon tampon was completely unheard of to them; it was utterly absurd. Luo Jingshan watched coldly, waiting to see how this reckless girl would fare.

Ye Zhen moved.

The catheter was slid in inch by inch along the inner diameter of the endotracheal tube.

"Twelve centimeters," Ye Zhen reported.

Through the latex glove, my fingertips keenly sensed the extremely slight resistance transmitted from the friction between the end of the tube and the tracheal wall.

"Fifteen centimeters."

stopped.

The end of the tube touched the area above the bulge.

Ye Zhen subtly turned her wrist to the right at a tricky angle.

Keep sending them inside.

"Inflate it, three milliliters," Ye Zhen ordered.

Li Hong immediately attached the syringe to the balloon of the catheter, applied pressure with her thumb, and injected gas.

The balloon rapidly inflated inside the right main bronchus, tightly sealing the leak.

The waveform of the ventilator suddenly changed.

The tidal volume bar chart of the left lung began to steadily climb upwards.

On the monitor, the blood oxygen saturation number, which had already dropped to 60, started jumping wildly.

Sixty-five.

seventy.

Eighty-five.

ninety!

The alarm stopped abruptly. The blood oxygen level stabilized.

Not only did he not suffocate due to the air leak, but the right-side air leak was completely sealed off, and unilateral ventilation of the left lung was perfectly achieved.

Luo Jingshan suddenly took a big step forward.

He stared intently at the old monitor, his face alternating between red and white.

This is simply impossible! The catheter occlusion method was successfully performed on the first blind insertion!

The young doctors on the expert team gasped and looked at each other, none daring to utter a sound.

"Incision on the right lateral side of the chest, enter the chest." Ye Zhen completely ignored the reaction behind her.

Lin Yi picked up the scalpel and deftly cut through the skin and muscle layers in the fifth intercostal space on the right side.

The retractor spreads the ribs apart.

"Splash—"

Large amounts of dark red blood, mixed with blood foam and bubbles, gushed out of his chest cavity and soaked the bed.

Lin Yi quickly used the suction device to clear his vision, and a gurgling sound came from the straw.

Visual field exposed.

The damage inside was horrific.

An irregularly shaped metal fragment was lodged near the right hilum of the lung. A large gash, about one centimeter long, had been torn open in the right lower pulmonary artery branch, and blood was gushing out.

Even more fatally, there was a large, tear-like laceration on the right main bronchus, with all three cartilage rings broken, the edges mangled and swollen like a rotten peach.

"The damage is much more serious than expected." Luo Jingshan peeked out from behind and spoke up instinctively.

"With the tissue so swollen, a regular suture would tear the flesh apart with just a pull of the thread. It's impossible to suture it properly." He turned to look at Ye Zhen. "We still have to remove a lung lobe. Otherwise, we can't stop the air leakage and massive bleeding."

Ye Zhen didn't even turn her head.

"Intermittent tension-reducing sutures, and autologous pleura to make a patch," Ye Zhen gave the direct order.

She needs to protect her lungs.

She was determined to sew a miracle out of this pile of rotten flesh.

Ye Zhen took out the scissors and deftly cut off a piece of her own pleural tissue.

"Wire."

The needle holder gripped the suture. Without a moment's pause, she deftly inserted the needle with her right hand.

Lin Yi helped cut the thread from the side.

One injection.

Two injections.

Ye Zhen's needle placement was always extremely tricky and precise.

She perfectly avoided the edges of those fragile, swollen tissues, never touching the broken cartilage ring, and distributing all the stress to the surrounding healthy tissue.

The pleural patch fit perfectly over the torn bronchus.

Luo Jingshan stood behind, initially with a critical and nitpicking attitude, staring intently at Ye Zhen's hand movements.

But the more he looked, the more his scalp tingled.

The angle at which Ye Zhen inserts the needle.

The key to mastering the stitch spacing.

The uniformity was so perfect, it was as if it had been measured with calipers, with absolutely no difference.

Keep in mind that this dilapidated place didn't have any microscopes to assist it; the only light came from four reflective military searchlights.

Under such extremely rudimentary conditions, the ability to perform such a miraculous suture at the hilum of the lung is simply terrifying.

"You..." Luo Jingshan pointed at the operation on the table, turned to look at the Xi'an military doctor in charge of recording, and shouted in a low voice.

"What are you standing there for! Write down every single detail of her stitch spacing and her technique for avoiding cartilage!"

Several experts from Xi'an quickly pulled out their notebooks and frantically took notes while leaning over the edge of the table.

Just as the blood vessel was about to be repaired, a sudden change occurred.

"Beep—beep—beep!!!"

The monitor suddenly emitted a sharp, piercing high-frequency alarm sound.

On the screen, the previously steady heart rate of 110 suddenly dropped to 60!

And it's still falling straight down!

Fifty-five!

Fifty!

Blood pressure then dropped.

The local anesthesiologist shouted anxiously, "His heart rate is dropping too fast! Prepare a 1 mg epinephrine IV push!"

He grabbed the syringe filled with the medicine and plunged it directly into the three-way valve of the IV tubing.

"Don't push!"

Ye Zhen pressed the last bleeding point firmly with gauze while shouting to stop it.

The anesthesiologist's hand froze in mid-air.

"It's not a heart problem." Ye Zhen quickly went through all the actions she had just taken in her mind.

"It's a hypoxic vagal reflex," Ye Zhen said confidently. "When we were clearing the blood deep in the hilum of the lungs just now, we pulled too much and stimulated the vagus nerve plexus."

She turned her head to look at Li Hong.

"Quickly expel the remaining gas from the right side of the chest cavity."

"Atropine 0.5 mg, IV push."

At the same time, Ye Zhen stretched out her left hand and grasped the exposed end of the catheter.

"Slightly aspirate the balloon gas from the catheter," Ye Zhen ordered. "Release 0.5 milliliters."

Li Hong immediately did as instructed, releasing the air and reducing pressure.

The pressure in the airbag decreased slightly, instantly relieving the physical pressure on the nerve plexus.

There was a deathly silence in the underground laboratory for a few seconds.

The high-risk alarm on the monitor has been deactivated.

My heart rate started to rise again.

Fifty.

sixty.

Eighty-five.

The waveform trend is as stable as Mount Tai.

The local anesthesiologist slumped back in his chair, drenched in sweat, his hand holding the syringe trembling uncontrollably.

If that one milligram of adrenaline had actually been injected...

In a person whose heart is already in a state of extreme ischemia and hypoxia, a cardiac stimulant would directly induce ventricular fibrillation. The person would definitely die on the spot.

Blood oxygen levels rose back to 95.

The crisis has been completely resolved.

Ye Zhen switched to a toothless pair of long tweezers and began cleaning the bloody metal fragment deep inside the hilum of the lung.

The tweezers tip just touched the metal.

"Crack."

An extremely faint metallic scraping sound traveled along the long tweezers to Ye Zhen's finger bones.