A Tale of Two Cities Supporting Xinjiang

Zhou Yi had just begun to explain Elder Batel's latest monitoring indicators when Nurbahati, who was sitting behind his desk, raised his hand and waved it gently.

"Stop talking, Zhouyi."

I've already submitted the application to the department.

From now on... I will no longer perform minimally invasive surgeries.

Zhou Yi was taken aback. "What application?"

"Application to no longer serve as the lead surgeon for minimally invasive procedures".

He paused, looking out the window. "This time, I'm out of practice."

Having performed abdominal surgeries for twenty years, the strength and precision in my hands have long been ingrained in my bones.

Such a small endoscope opening, such delicate instruments...

I thought I had adapted, but what happened?

Elder Batel almost lost face...

The entire department has been embarrassed along with me.

He scoffed self-deprecatingly, "Now look what's happened. The patients who used to schedule their surgeries with me are all turning around and wanting to schedule with you instead. It's normal that people don't trust me anymore."

I don't even believe in myself anymore.

I'm afraid I can't learn this minimally invasive technique, and I shouldn't harm anyone else.

"So you just want to back out?"

Nurbahati was speechless at this sudden question.

"Old Batel is still in the ICU and his condition is not out of danger. His family members have been crying until their eyes are swollen. Every time they come to visit, can't you see the anxiety and fear in their eyes?"

"From the nurses to the ward doctors, what were they saying about the accident behind your back? Did you really not hear a thing?"

Zhou Yi took two steps forward, showing no mercy, "Now all the problems are piled up here, like a tangled mess, and you just pick up a pair of scissors and say you don't want this mess anymore?"

If you withdraw, the surgery won't be necessary, but what about the elder's follow-up treatment?

Who will comfort the family members?

Who will rebuild the reputation of the department that has been damaged by your accident?

"If you just quit, will all these troubles just disappear?"

"I……"

Nurbahati's throat felt tight and extremely dry.

"I've already messed up once, almost killing someone."

I'm fifty years old, not twenty. (Zhou Yi)

My hands are used to large-scale surgery, used to the tangible feel of touch, and the delicate work of minimally invasive surgery done in front of a screen, through a layer of glass...

I can't change it, and I can't learn it anymore.

Standing in the surgeon's position again, I'm afraid... I'm afraid that next time it won't just be the atrial wall that's broken.

Zhou Yi changed his form of address, his voice softened, but carried more weight: "Teacher Nuer, no one is born with this skill."

When I first started practicing laparoscopic anastomosis, my hands were shaking like a sieve. You told me that if I calmed my mind, my hands would be steady.

This was an accident, a painful lesson, but not a death sentence.

"If you quit now, everyone, including yourself, will assume that you are no good and have been eliminated."

That would truly mean there's no chance of ever turning things around.

Your involvement is needed to follow up on Elder Batel's case; you need to resolve the family's grievances; and you need to take action to quell the discussions within the department.

This poorly performed surgery is a debt you owe, not an excuse for running away.

Before Nurbahati could answer, Zhou Yi had already turned around, locked the office door, and pulled over two chairs to place in front of the computer: "Sit down. We must get this straight today."

"Xiao Zhou, what's wrong with you...?"

"I made a copy of the surgical video."

Zhou Yi plugged in the USB drive, opened the video file, and said, "Now is not the time to back down. We need to figure out exactly where the problem lies."

Nuerhabati felt a sharp pain in his heart as he watched the familiar operation on the screen, especially when the tearing occurred, his hand clenched instinctively.

"stop."

Zhou Yi pressed the pause button. "It's here. Director, have you spotted the problem?"

Nuerbahati was silent for a few seconds. "The adhesions are too severe, the tissue is too fragile..."

"This is an objective condition, not a cause."

Zhou Yi zoomed in on the image, saying, "Look here, at the angle of your instrument's entry point."

The image shows the angle at which Nurbahati's dissecting forceps enter the left atrium.

"The standard angle should be like this."

Zhou Yi picked up the heart model next to him and used a pen to simulate the machine. "But your angle is off by at least 15 degrees. What does that mean?"

Nuerbahati frowned and said, "The view from a laparoscopy is inherently reversed, this..."

"Director, running away won't solve the problem. Have you got your perspective all wrong?"

Why can others adapt? Why can I adapt?

He pushed the model in front of Nurbahati: "This is the perspective of an open abdominal surgery."

He used his hands to simulate the direct view after opening the chest, explaining, "This is the perspective of minimally invasive surgery."

He then switched to a pen to simulate the indirect view of laparoscopic instruments. "What's the key difference?"

Nurbahati remained silent.

"It's the logic of exerting force."

The Book of Changes hits the nail on the head: "In open abdominal surgery, your hand directly contacts the tissue, and the force feedback is direct."

However, in laparoscopic surgery, the instruments are an extension of your hands, amplifying the force. Even a slight deviation in angle can cause the force at the distal end to become uncontrollable.

He pulled up the footage from the seconds before the tear and played it frame by frame. "Look, this tiny turn of your wrist is magnified into such a large range of motion at the end of the device."

That's why you felt like you weren't using much force, yet your tissue tore.

"And here too."

Zhou Yi continued playing the video, and when it got to the part where Nurbahati almost caused a second hemorrhage while the bleeding was being stopped, he said, "Your blood pressure dropped suddenly, and you panicked."

In a panic, one instinctively resorts to the most familiar method: a large-scale operation like open abdominal surgery.

However, minimally invasive surgery requires precise control, not large, sweeping movements.

After a long silence, Nurbahati finally spoke: "So... I'm really not suited for minimally invasive surgery?"

"It's not that it's unsuitable, it's that I haven't figured it out yet."

Zhou Yi's tone softened: "Director, your more than 20 years of experience in open abdominal surgery is invaluable, but you need to change your mindset."

It's like an experienced driver trying to find the clutch the first time they drive an automatic car; it's the same principle.

"I'm here today to review the situation, not to criticize you."

If the surgery goes wrong, I, as your assistant, also bear responsibility. I failed to anticipate the risks at the critical moment and did not remind you of the angle issue in time.

We are partners in the same surgery, sharing the responsibility.

These words stunned Nurbahati.

He originally thought that the Book of Changes was there to prove him right, to put him down.

Aren't all the young doctors in the department just waiting to see the old guy make a fool of himself?

"So... what do we do now?"

Nuerbahati's voice sounded somewhat bewildered: "I've already submitted the application, but the family is still making a scene, and in the department..."

"You can withdraw your application from the dean."

Zhou Yi said decisively, "We'll go explain to the family once Elder Batel's condition has stabilized."

The discussions within the department... let's let our abilities speak for themselves.

"strength?"

Nurbahati gave a wry smile: "What strength do I have left?"

"You have over twenty years of experience in cardiac surgery, hundreds of successful surgeries, and a deep understanding of cardiac anatomy—something that young people simply can't match."

Zhou Yi's eyes were very serious. "What you lack is simply the mindset shift and muscle memory reconstruction for minimally invasive procedures. This can be trained."

He then pulled out a simple laparoscopic simulator from his bag.

"Starting tomorrow, I will continue to practice with you for two hours every day."

Zhou Yi placed the training equipment on the table, "Let's start with the most basic equipment operation, practice angles, strength, and field of vision switching."

Nurbahati looked at the training device, then at Zhou Yi, and suddenly felt his eyes welling up with tears.

Why?

Xiao Zhou, why did you do that?

Wouldn't it be more beneficial for you if I really withdrew?

"Surgeon position, reputation..."

Zhou Yi smiled. "Director, cardiac surgery isn't a fighting ring; it's an operating room."

What I need is a partner I can rely on, not a senior colleague I've pushed aside.

Patients like Elder Batel will come again in the future, and we must be prepared.

As he reached the door, Zhou Yi turned back and asked, "By the way, is your son graduating from medical school next year? I heard he wants to study cardiac surgery."

Nurbahati was taken aback. "How did you know?"

"He came to see me last week and asked me some questions."

Zhou Yi smiled and said, "Not bad, young man. You have ideas."

He said that the doctor he admired most was his father.