When I'm on the night shift, all the department heads can't sleep.

As soon as the red light above the intervention room came on, the noise in the corridor suddenly subsided.

The woman gripped her phone tightly to her ear, her knuckles turning white.

The person on the other end of the phone was her son. He hadn't hung up yet. He had just been asking how risky it was, but now all that could be heard was his tight breathing, each word hitting my eardrums painfully.

"Mom, don't bear this alone. I'm getting on the highway soon."

The woman glanced down at the informed consent form she had just signed; the ink from the pen was still there, stained with a bit of cold sweat from her hands.

"I'll stand guard at the door, drive slowly."

After saying that, she stammered and couldn't say anything more.

Qin Hai reached out and took the phone, his voice low: "The family members are waiting at the door. If there are any changes inside, the specialist will come out and let us know as soon as possible. Don't answer the phone while you're driving. Safety first."

The other end responded quickly, the voice fully awake: "I know, I'll be there in half an hour."

Qin Hai handed the phone back without offering any words of comfort. The woman's phone screen was still lit up with her call log, which was covered with a thin layer of sweat.

The door to the interventional room is heavily soundproofed, so you can only occasionally hear the soft clatter of the instrument trays inside, as well as the anesthesiologist's short instructions, which are vague and indistinct.

Lin Ye leaned against the corridor wall, his clip clipped to his forearm, and held the blood gas meter from his recent checkup in his hand.

Lactic acid 7.1.

He ran his thumb over the line of blackened numbers, the edge of the paper softened by sweat.

Two rows of light blue words popped up at the edge of my field of vision.

[Patients with abdominal pain are referred to the specialized joint treatment procedure]

[Risk Warning: Restoration of blood flow does not guarantee intestinal survival]

Lin Ye quickly looked away, pressed the pen tip on the record sheet, and filled in only the time, value, attendees, and handover person.

The door to the interventional room opened for the first time, and the circulating nurse came out to receive the blood bag from the blood transfusion department. She was still wearing her outer gown, and only half of her face was visible: "The guidewire is in, the main trunk is partially open, but the distal branches are still blocked. The blood pressure can be kept under control with vasopressors for now."

The woman immediately took a step forward, her voice trembling: "Will it be alright now?"

The nurse shook her head, clutching the blood bag to her chest: "I'll only relay what's inside. The doctor will explain the details when he comes out. Whether there's ischemia or necrosis in the intestines needs to be determined by the general surgery team."

As soon as the door closed, the voice of a general surgeon came from inside, drifting out through the door: "Don't let the family members go far. We may have to open the abdomen later, and we can't rule out the need for a second exploration."

When the woman heard the words "abdominal surgery," her legs went weak and she slid down. Nurse Zhao happened to come over with the treatment form and helped her to a bench and sat her down.

"Sit down properly, you can lie down first, there's no one watching the elderly inside."

The woman clutched her phone, her lips trembling so much she could barely speak: "Then...didn't the nurse just say the blood flow had improved a little?"

Nurse Zhao tucked the treatment sheet under her armpit, her tone unwavering: "It's not enough to just get a little better; you have to hear the rest."

Lin Ye was writing "Main trunk blood flow partially recovered, distal branch imaging is still poor" on the record sheet. Just as he finished writing the word "still poor", Qin Hai reached out and pressed down on the edge of the paper.

"Don't write it like this, that's settled."

Lin Ye put down his pen.

Qin Hai's voice was terribly hoarse. He pointed to the blank column and wrote: "Just write that the main trunk is open, the distal imaging is poor, the general surgery department is on standby, and the intestinal activity needs to be evaluated."

Lin Ye followed suit and completed the task.

The digital clock on the wall ticked to 12:21 a.m., and the old man had been in the hospital for less than forty minutes. Every second was agonizing.

The woman sat on the edge of the bench, her fingernails digging into the frame of her phone. She didn't even notice a small piece of nail polish had chipped off. The screen lit up and then went dark again.

The door to the interventional room opened a second time, and the anesthesiologist came out, his face covered in sweat after taking off his mask: "His blood pressure is being kept up by vasopressors. He's still not out of danger. We need to request a bed in the intensive care unit in advance, so we don't have to fight for one after he comes out."

Qin Hai turned around and dialed the ICU number. The doctor on the other end still sounded sleepy: "Do you need a bed in the ER again?"

"Mesenteric vascular emergency. He is still on the interventional table and may be transferred to open surgery. His lactate is 7.1 and his blood pressure is being maintained with vasopressors. Please reserve a monitoring bed for us."

The sleepiness on the other end vanished instantly: "Okay, I'll check the bed availability. Before you come out, send me the real-time blood pressure, vasopressor dosage, medication timing, urine output, and access status. Don't just call and say the person is heavy."

"Know."

Qin Hai hung up the phone and turned to look at Lin Ye: "Did you hear that? Write down the critical illness warning time."

"Um."

Lin Ye lowered his head to finish his notes, writing very slowly.

Nurse Zhao unscrewed the thermos in her hand, took a sip of the cooled chrysanthemum water, and just as she swallowed it, the intercom at the nurses' station rang.

"Sister Zhao, the backup nurses for the night shift have arrived. The triage and verification form still needs your signature."

Nurse Zhao closed her eyes briefly and replied into the walkie-talkie, "Tell her to wait two minutes. The family member here isn't feeling well, and I can't leave."

Qin Hai glanced at her and said, "Go to the nurses' station and sign the form first. I'll take care of things here."

Nurse Zhao didn't move: "This family member can barely sit still, how dare I leave?"

Qin Hai tucked the record folder under his arm and said in a stern tone, "The emergency room won't operate if they don't have you? Go."

Nurse Zhao muttered a curse under her breath, turned and walked towards the nurses' station. After taking two steps, she turned back and pointed at Lin Ye: "Don't stand there like a pillar. When Director Qin tells you to go to sleep, go. Dying from exhaustion doesn't count as a merit."

Lin Ye didn't reply, and his pen paused on the paper.

At approximately 12:35 AM, the door to the interventional radiology room opened for the third time. This time, the on-call vascular surgeon came out, having already removed his surgical gown and gloves, with traces of disinfectant still visible around his wrist: "The main trunk is fully open, but the distal end is still not ideal. The general surgery team, based on physical examination, imaging, and lactate trend assessment, determined that there is currently no indication for immediate bowel resection, but we cannot guarantee the viability of the intestinal segment, and a second exploration cannot be ruled out."

The woman looked up, her eyes red as if they were about to bleed: "Then...can it come out now?"

"He can be transferred out, but not back to a regular ward." The doctor's voice was very calm. "He'll be transferred to the intensive care unit first. We need to keep a close eye on his vasopressors, lactate levels, urine output, and bowel condition. He'll need to be monitored in the intensive care unit tonight."

After hearing this, the woman didn't immediately shed tears. Instead, she lowered her head and texted her son, typing half a message, then deleting it, then typing it again, until finally sending only one sentence: "The doctor said he still needs to be kept in the ICU."

Qin Hai snapped the file folder shut and casually said to Lin Ye, "Now that we've handled the emergency case to this point, just keep a close eye on the handover forms with the specialists and ICU staff, and record their notes."

Lin Ye nodded.

The blue text at the edge of my field of vision flashed again.

[Crucial blood flow has partially recovered, but intensive care is still required]

Lin Ye remained silent, only adding the following to the last line of the emergency room record:

At 00:36, the patient was scheduled to be transferred to the intensive care unit for continued monitoring. Blood flow had partially recovered, but bowel activity required further observation. The family had been informed that the patient was not out of danger and would be taken over by specialists and the intensive care unit.

As soon as he finished writing the last word, Qin Hai snatched the pen from his hand.

"Go lie down in the duty room for twenty minutes."

Lin Ye was taken aback for a moment: "There are still records that haven't been completed."

"I told you to fill in the records, not to put yourself in the ICU." Qin Hai put the record folder on the nurses' station desk. "Wait twenty minutes, then write it when you wake up."

Nurse Zhao happened to be coming back from the nurses' station, carrying a half-eaten box of lunches. The lid wasn't closed properly, and wilted vegetable leaves were stuck to the transparent lid.

She placed the lunchbox on the table and pushed Lin Ye towards the duty room: "Go to sleep. When you wake up, eat these two bites of rice."

Lin Ye glanced at the lunchbox: "Sister Zhao, your food is all cold."

"You can eat cold food, but you can't save a cold person," Nurse Zhao added in a low voice. "I was even planning to introduce you to someone. If you really turn into an emergency room specimen, what am I supposed to tell that girl?"

Qin Hai flipped through the file folder without even looking up: "These days, the standards for finding a partner in the emergency room are so low that just being able to sleep is enough?"

"She can sleep, she can reply to messages, and she can eat by herself." Nurse Zhao counted on her fingers, "If she can have even one of these three qualities, she's considered a high-quality resource here."

Lin Ye was speechless, so he put the pen cap back on and then pulled it off again, not moving closer to the notebook.

Qin Hai finally looked up and glanced at him: "Let's live to see the blind date first."

Just as Lin Ye was about to speak, the call screen at the nurses' station suddenly flashed.

The nurse who was there to provide support later that night frowned and poked her head out from the triage desk: "Director Qin, there's a number in the waiting area that's been called three times without anyone responding. There's only a payment slip left on the chair. The family said the person went to the restroom and hasn't come back for over ten minutes."

Qin Hai suddenly looked up.

Lin Ye stopped just as he reached the door of the duty room.

On the call number screen, a glaring red "passed" mark was lit next to that name.