Chapter 102: Chapter 102: I Have an Idea

It was Tuesday, the day Qin Ying was scheduled for her specialist consultations.

After her argument with Chen Yu, Qin Ying went to the second floor of the outpatient department at the hospital’s east gate. She walked past dozens of patients and their families already lined up in the hallway and entered a consultation room with her name on the door.

To her surprise, she found Yan Feifan in the room, along with the young nurse assigned by the clinic and He Junxing, the assistant the hospital had previously assigned to her.

“Mrs. Qin, about yesterday’s surgery…”

Qin Ying held up a hand, cutting off Yan Feifan’s explanation. “Feifan, you don’t need to explain.”

She looked at the young nurse and ordered, “Consultations will begin in five minutes. Go maintain order among the patients and their families outside.”

“Yes, Mrs. Qin!”

The young nurse answered cheerfully and left the room.

Qin Ying turned to Yan Feifan. “While Chen Yu’s skills are inferior to mine, she’s the only one in all of Binhai with enough expertise to perform a surgical demonstration for you.”

“So, when you acted as her surgical assistant yesterday, I wasn’t angry. On the contrary, I was pleased.”

Qin Ying huffed, her voice laced with contempt. “We’ve been rivals for years. I knew a schemer like her wouldn’t be able to resist trying to snatch you away.”

“The more I pretend to care, the cockier she gets.”

“Feifan, you’re going to be getting a steady stream of calls from her, asking for your assistance in surgery.”

“She’s a fool with decent enough skills, handing you learning and practical experience on a silver platter. Don’t you hesitate for a second…”

Yan Feifan replied obediently, “I understand, Mrs. Qin.”

After that, he stayed in the consultation room, assisting Mrs. Qin with her appointments alongside He Junxing and the young nurse.

The young nurse was responsible for maintaining order, calling out appointment numbers, checking patients’ registration slips, and handling other miscellaneous tasks.

At Mrs. Qin’s direction, He Junxing was responsible for performing physical examinations that required strength, as well as some physical therapy procedures.

He was also in charge of transcribing Mrs. Qin’s dictated diagnoses and orders onto the patients’ medical records.

Of course, Mrs. Qin still wrote the prescriptions herself.

As for the doctor’s signature on the medical records, Mrs. Qin would sign them herself after verifying the accuracy of He Junxing’s notes.

As for Yan Feifan, he stayed by Mrs. Qin’s side, learning and observing how she conducted her inquiries, examinations, diagnoses, and prescriptions.

He had to admit, Mrs. Qin was incredibly fast when seeing patients.

From the moment a patient sat down, Mrs. Qin would listen to them describe their condition while simultaneously flipping through the various exam results, lab reports, imaging films, and previous treatment plans they had brought with them.

She would occasionally interrupt to ask a few questions.

Once the patient finished speaking and Mrs. Qin had reviewed all the documents, she would perform a targeted physical examination.

After that, Mrs. Qin would give the patient her diagnosis and a treatment plan, order further tests, or refer them to another department or specialist.

The entire process took only five or six minutes.

In truth, this speed was born of necessity.

An eight-hour workday meant four hundred and eighty minutes to see sixty specialist appointment holders.

Factoring in the patients returning for follow-ups with their test results, the average time per patient came out to just five or six minutes.

For patients whose test results wouldn’t be available the same day, Mrs. Qin would thoughtfully have them contact He Junxing to schedule a follow-up appointment for the next day or the day after.

Yan Feifan noticed that the patients who booked specialist appointments with Mrs. Qin mostly presented with symptoms like joint or limb pain, impaired function of the hands or feet, sports injuries, or unexplained pain in some part of their body.

When lunchtime arrived, Yan Feifan bid farewell to Mrs. Qin. He ate a quick lunch, then hurried over to the Plastic Surgery Center.

At nine o’clock that morning, the vegetable vendor, Yo Liguo, had brought his son to the hospital.

Wang Chuan took this case—a “male Yanyan” with much simpler injuries—very seriously, personally taking the boy for a full battery of tests.

When Yan Feifan arrived at the director’s office, he saw Wang Chuan examining several skull images on the light box mounted on the wall.

“You’re here.”

Wang Chuan glanced over at Yan Feifan, then pointed to the right mandible on the image. “The masseter, medial pterygoid, digastric, mylohyoid, and geniohyoid muscles attached to the body of the right mandible all have partial damage.”

“The digastric muscle is the most severe, with over ninety percent loss. The orbicularis oris muscle also sustained minor damage.”

Wang Chuan turned to see Yan Feifan at his desk, flipping through a thick stack of test results.

“Feifan, the injury may not seem extensive, but it involves repairing multiple muscles.”

“If we’re aiming for a perfect restoration, the difficulty hasn’t been reduced in the slightest. In fact, it’s increased significantly.”

Wang Chuan sighed. “Finding muscle fiber bundles from elsewhere in the body that are a close match for the digastric, masseter, medial pterygoid, mylohyoid, geniohyoid, and orbicularis oris muscle groups is a massive undertaking.”

Yan Feifan set down the file and chuckled. “Director, that part of the job is actually quite simple for me.”

Wang Chuan paused for a moment, then his eyes lit up. He smiled and said, “That’s right. You’ve mastered the facial muscles—the most complex muscle group in the human body—with such precision.”

“The other muscles in the body should be no problem for you either.”

Wang Chuan added excitedly, “Come on, I can’t wait to see this for myself…”

Yan Feifan followed Wang Chuan to Ward 7 on the sixth floor.

There, he met Yo Liguo and his nineteen-year-old son, Yo Jiayong, who stood at 1.69 meters tall.

As soon as they entered the room, Wang Chuan said to Yo Jiayong eagerly, “Take off your clothes. We need to perform another examination.”

Yo Jiayong looked uncertainly at his father.

Yo Liguo glared at him. “What are you waiting for? Do whatever Mr. Wang tells you to do.”

“This is a hospital. What’s there to be shy about?”

Yo Jiayong pursed his lips and silently removed his hospital gown, then the thermal shirt underneath, leaving him in nothing but his briefs.

Perhaps finding Yan Feifan’s scrutinizing gaze too invasive and piercing, Yo Jiayong instinctively crossed his arms over his chest and turned sideways.

This earned him a kick in the rear from Yo Liguo, forcing him to turn back around with a resentful look on his face.

“Masseter?”

Hearing Wang Chuan’s abrupt question, Yan Feifan took a pen from the breast pocket of his white lab coat.

He walked over to Yo Jiayong and drew a line on the outer side of his calf.

Wang Chuan also approached Yo Jiayong, reached out to carefully feel the spot Yan Feifan had marked, and nodded slightly.

“Medial pterygoid?”

Yan Feifan drew a line on Yo Jiayong’s right flank.

“Mylohyoid?”

Yan Feifan drew a line on Yo Jiayong’s lower right abdomen.

After examining both spots, Wang Chuan nodded, very pleased.

He looked at the father and son and said with a smile, “You won’t have to stay in the hospital for much longer. We expect to be able to do the surgery this Thursday or Friday…”

The news overjoyed the father and son. After all, one less day in the hospital meant one less day’s worth of expenses to pay.

Outside the hospital room, Wang Chuan said, still not quite satisfied, “The area of trauma is relatively small, so there’s no need for nerve repair.”

“It’s a shame.”

In Yanyan’s case, repairing the nerves that control the facial muscles was essential.

Otherwise, the repaired muscles would have been like a zombie’s—cosmetically improved, but with absolutely no functional recovery.

Yan Feifan said slowly, “Director, I have an idea about nerve repair.”

“What is it?” Wang Chuan asked casually.

“Our nerves have self-regenerating properties, though of course, the process is quite slow.”

“What if we were to split a nerve lengthwise into two halves and let each half regenerate on its own inside the body?”

“Once they’ve fully regenerated, we could then transplant one of them to where it’s needed?”

Wang Chuan stopped in his tracks, lost in thought…

P.S.

Thank you to reader “chlorine” for the generous support!

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep