A Tale of Two Cities Supporting Xinjiang

What humiliated Nurbahat even more was that the hospital did not value his surgical skills, young people did not follow him, and even his most trusted old patients began to waver, with only the I Ching in their eyes.

"No, absolutely not. My position, my reputation, cannot be taken away by Zhou Yi like this!"

That evening, everyone in the department had long since left, and the entire building was so quiet that you could hear your own footsteps.

Nuerbahati arrived at the laboratory, where animal heart specimens were displayed on the table, and next to them was a video on how to use the I Ching that he had specially downloaded.

Nurbahati opened the video, held his breath, and imitated Zhou Yi's movements step by step on the screen.

But the laparoscopic instruments in my hands seemed rusty and wouldn't obey my commands.

On the screen, Zhou Yi's needlework was steady and precise, and the stitches were so neat that they looked as if they had been measured with a ruler. But when it came to him, just aligning the mitral valve took a lot of effort.

After finally finding the right angle, he took a deep breath and was about to precisely sew when his wrist suddenly twitched. The needle tip didn't pierce the intended spot and instead poked a hole in the fragile mitral valve model.

"Useless! What a complete waste!"

Nurbahati lowered his voice and cursed, feeling both angry and anxious.

Just then, a gentle voice suddenly came from the doorway: "Director, you haven't left yet?"

Nurbahati shuddered in fright and turned around abruptly, only to see Zhou Yi standing at the door with a cup of warm water in his hand and a faint smile on his face.

He hurriedly turned around, frantically tidying up the messy workbench, and hid the damaged mitral valve model behind his back. "N-nothing, I couldn't sleep, so I came over to practice a bit."

Zhou Yi didn't expose his embarrassment, but handed him the warm water in his hand: "Director, please take a break. You've been practicing for so long, have some water to soothe your throat."

Nurbahati hesitated for a moment, but still reached out and took it.

But he couldn't bring himself to admit he couldn't learn it, so he could only bite the bullet and say, "I know where the problem is, it's just that I can't break my old habits."

"That's perfectly normal."

Zhou Yi smiled, his tone particularly sincere, "When I first started learning this technique, I was even more pathetic than you. I dropped the equipment countless times, and I broke more than a dozen of them just simulating the heart. I practiced until my fingers cramped up."

He picked up the laparoscope next to him, opened his notebook, and handed it to Nurbahati. "Actually, it's not that you can't learn it, it's just that you haven't gotten used to the operation logic of the small incision on the right side."

This surgery looks difficult, but the core is that your vision follows the instruments, and the force you apply is based on your feeling. It's completely different from the force application logic of traditional open abdominal surgery that you're familiar with. You're just used to large, sweeping movements and haven't quite adapted yet.

Nurbahati followed his hand and looked over. The notebook was filled with dense writing and many hand-drawn diagrams, all clearly marked.

Zhou Yi pointed to one of the pages: "Look, I have summarized the location formula for the right-side small incision. It is very easy to remember. The fourth rib on the right chest is two finger widths away from the sternum. Separate layer by layer without touching the pleura."

There are also techniques for generating force, which I've illustrated. You can see the angle of this wrist; you need to press it down slightly to stabilize the force.

As he spoke, Zhou Yi picked up the equipment and slowly demonstrated it on the simulated heart, breaking down each step clearly, while explaining in his mouth: "The camera needs to be tilted down 30 degrees so that you can see the whole picture of the mitral valve without any blind spots."

Hold the needle holder like you're holding a pen, don't use too much force. When suturing, the needle tip should be at a 45-degree angle to the valve. This provides just the right amount of penetration without damaging the valve tissue. See, like this…”

Nuerbahati stared at the clear view on the screen, then looked at Zhou Yi's nimble hands, and his defenses gradually crumbled.

He had to admit that Zhou Yi had truly mastered the art and explained it in a way that was easy to understand, far better than his own guesswork.

"Director, please give it a try. I'll watch from the side."

Nuerbahati took a deep breath and took the equipment.

This time, Zhou Yi whispered instructions from the side: "Relax your wrist, don't use force, just like you normally hold chopsticks..."

Yes, that's it. Move the camera a little closer, can you see the anterior leaflet of the mitral valve?

"Good, keep this position, insert the needle slowly, and use light pressure..."

Just as the needle tip was about to touch the valve, Nurbahati habitually used too much force, his wrist twitched, and the instrument went astray, damaging the simulated heart once again.

He threw the equipment on the control panel in frustration, his tone full of disappointment: "It seemed simple, but I didn't expect it to be so complicated."

"Don't rush, take your time. Everyone is like this when they first start learning."

Zhou Yi showed no impatience. He picked up a new simulated heart, readjusted its position, and said, "Director, we're not in a hurry to suture it. This time, we won't practice suturing. We'll practice positioning and force application first. If you follow my rhythm, you'll definitely be able to learn."

Zhou Yi taught Nurbahati without reservation all the operational formulas, force exertion techniques, and emergency treatment methods that he had summarized in clinical practice.

When Nurbahati encountered something he didn't understand, he would demonstrate it repeatedly, once or twice, until Nurbahati understood it.

Sometimes, when Nurbahati couldn't quite get the hang of it, he would patiently correct his wrist movements and adjust the angles.

As the night wore on, Nurbahati gradually shed his director-like demeanor and stopped being coy. When he encountered something he didn't understand, he asked directly, "Zhou Yi, with this small incision, if there's sudden bleeding and the field of vision is narrow, how can we quickly stop the bleeding?"

"What should be done if a patient has severe pleural adhesions, making small incisions difficult to expose the chest cavity?"

Zhou Yi answered all his questions carefully, and even reviewed previous failed operations with him, discussing various problems that might be encountered in clinical practice.

The two chatted away, completely absorbed, and before they knew it, it was dawn outside the window.

Nurbahati's hands, which were gripping the equipment, stopped trembling. His eyes were fixed on the screen as he operated the equipment step by step, following the instructions and techniques taught by the I Ching.

Separation, positioning, needle holding, suturing... every movement was much more steady than before.

When the last knot was neatly tied and the screen clearly showed the perfectly sutured mitral valve, he suddenly stopped and froze.

Success! He has finally completed a simulated mitral valve repair surgery with a small incision on the right side!

Looking at the precisely aligned valves and the dense yet perfectly neat knots on the screen, Nurbahati was so excited that his hands trembled uncontrollably, his eyes welled up with tears, and an indescribable joy and sense of accomplishment surged into his heart.

"Thank you, Zhou Yi."

Nurbahati's voice was somewhat hoarse, with a barely perceptible sob in it.

He had always narrowly believed that Zhou Yi, this young man, was coming on strong because he wanted to seize his position as director and replace him.

But to his utter surprise, Zhou Yi not only shared his most valuable core techniques without reservation, but also stayed up all night to practice with him and patiently guided him through every detail.

Before leaving, Zhou Yi handed his notebook to Nurbahati: "Director, please take this notebook back and read it. It contains all my experiences and insights, which may be of help to you."

Nuerbahati took the notebook, and a warm feeling welled up in his heart once again.