The Surgeon's Studio Chapter 101 - The Human Realm, Unworthy

Chapter 101: The Human Realm, Unworthy

Translator: EndlessFantasy Translation Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation

The woman’s name was Zheng Yunxia and she was twenty-eight years of age this year. She had once been a kindergarten teacher in Sea City.

During a clinical checkup half a year ago, she had discovered a s.p.a.ce-occupying liver lesion, and after a detailed a.n.a.lysis had been carried out in Sea City General Hospital, it was determined to be liver cancer requiring surgery.

Zheng Yunxia was from a small farming village and was not wealthy. She would often allocate 500 yuan of her meager pay to her family and would also be obligated to hand some money over to her own brother for him to buy lottery tickets every month.

Any normal patient from Sea City would not choose to have their surgery done thereafter finding out they had liver cancer.

This was especially since Imperial City was not far and had higher medical standards. Hence, most people would travel to Imperial City for treatment; as long as they could be admitted there, most people would not mind the extra cost.

However, Zheng Yunxia could barely afford her surgical fees in Sea City, and the money she had used to pay for her treatment were savings she had sc.r.a.ped up over a very long period of time.

After being informed of her current ailment, her husband disappeared without a trace for two whole days. He did not even come by to sign her pre-operations acknowledgment form.

Zheng Yunxia had been on the brink of a breakdown after being relentlessly rushed by the doctor.

Two days later, her husband finally showed up. Unfortunately, when he did, it was with neither compa.s.sion nor support but a divorce agreement.

The impact of this single action had greatly broken her.

However, she persevered and fought on. Her post-op recovery was slow, but she began working again before she had even fully recovered.

Due to her cancer, she was no longer able to work as a kindergarten teacher.

The princ.i.p.al’s excuse was that if any of the parents found out their children were in contact with someone with liver cancer, they would undoubtedly cause a huge argument.

Hence, she was only able to work jobs within her abilities.

However, fate was not through with her series of unfortunate events. There was no compromise or poetic justice. Life was tragic for her.

During a routine checkup a few months later, her doctor reluctantly informed her that her cancer had recurred.

This news was earth-shattering and absolutely devastated her. She was no longer fit for surgery and her only option was chemotherapy in the oncology department.

There was no localized drug available for liver cancer and her only choice was chemotherapy similar to that used for gastrointestinal cancer.

The effects were…limited. However, she was out of options.

Even though the treatment was the most basic and possessed the highest rate of side effects, Zheng Yunxia was only able to afford a single treatment and was forced to roam the city with a cancer-stricken body after that.

She sc.r.a.ped by for every single meal and would save up the rest in order to afford a cheaper brand of Capecitabine. She knew that Capecitabine was used to treat gastrointestinal cancer and would have no effects on liver cancer.

However, she had no other options left.

This was a manic state of survival; the desperation to cling to life.

Zheng Yunxia was in no way able to afford targeted drug therapy, and Chinese herbal medicines were either too expensive or did not inspire confidence.

Based on her own judgement, traditional Chinese doctors were only able to judge an illness based on one’s appearance, body condition, body odor and heartbeat. Hence, what kind of life-saving herbal concoction could such a doctor prescribe when they could not even label which G.o.dd*mn artery was which?

This time, she was completely penniless and had absolutely no other alternatives.

Her gradually declining health and her increasingly exhausted body would no longer allow her to work more jobs. She was no longer able to afford Capecitabine, having to switch from an imported brand known as Xeloda to a locally-made variant.

To add insult to injury, her family kept demanding money from her. Her brother had gotten himself a new girlfriend and had demanded twelve thousand yuan as a betrothal gift.

The last phone call she had was moments ago. Zheng Yunxia’s mother had told her that raising her had been an absolute waste and that she was useless.

After she hung up, she forced a smile for her oncologist who had been taking care of her all this time before leaving. When she arrived at the hallway, she opened a window and proceeded to sit on the ledge.

She was ready to enjoy the final moments of her life. The sky was dark and the winds were strong. The snowflakes that grazed against her face slightly stung her.

Oh the human realm, how unworthy.

These were the events recounted by Su Yun.

Zheng Ren only ate in silence as he listened without any intention of interrupting.

The nurse who was listening by their side was tearing up, and although situations like these were common in a hospital, every situation would invoke different reactions in people.

“How’s crowdfunding going?” the nurse asked while wiping away her tears.

It was the first thing that came to her mind.

“That’s pretty much useless,” Su Yun replied with tightly-squinted eyes while staring at Zheng Ren, “The thing with liver cancer is that there aren’t any effective treatments for it, and even with molecularly-targeted therapy, the effective treatment rate is less than ten percent.”

“What can be done now?” the nurse needled, concerned. For an issue of this magnitude, though, there was little she could do.

After Zheng Ren and the trio were done eating, they proceeded to clean up after themselves.

“Chief Zheng, you seemed like you were holding back something. Is there something you would like to say?” Su Yun noticed Zheng Ren appeared to have something on his mind.

“This is the only thing I hate about you. If you have something to say, then go ahead and spit it out. If you had to fart, just release it at full volume. Don’t leave your statements hanging. Hearing your statements is like a G.o.dd*mn chapter cliffhanger from any novel I read. These annoying cliffhangers are always agonizing and when the next chapter arrives, it doesn’t have anything interesting, either,” Zheng Ren replied.

“Oh, please,” Su Yun grunted.

“Have you done an interventional embolization on a hepatocellular carcinoma before?” Zheng Ren asked casually while packing away his lunchbox.

“I have seen it done before. When Instructor Pan was carrying out the embolization procedure, I was his a.s.sistant.”

“So just by observing alone, you’ve managed to master it?” Zheng Ren sardonically.

“Of course.” Su Yun seemed to have completely missed the sarcasm, running his fingers through his hair and presented himself stoically.

This simple action and reply completely charmed the nurse accompanying them as her eyes glimmered with brightly-lit sparks of pure admiration.

After they had cleaned up, Zheng Ren returned to his office and proceeded to cuddle up against the Sciences of Hepatopancreatobiliary book, ready to take a nap in the on call room.

“Hey, whether you could pull it off or not, you have to at least say something.” Su Yun was face-to-face with Zheng Ren, but since being described as ‘beyond awful’, Su Yun proceeded to interrogate the latter bluntly.

He was truly an uninteresting person.

“I will try. Not a single person would be confident operating on late-stage cancer,” Zheng Ren replied, meeting Su Yun’s stare and adding, “Only under a high-intensity MRI scan can we determine how far the cancer had progressed. After that, comes the problem of medical fees.”

“Between me, the Chu sisters or that robotic nurse, none of us are in desperate need of money,” Su Yun replied pa.s.sionately.

“If you want to solve the problem and need a lot of money, you’d need to start a huge crowdfunding campaign.” Zheng Ren’s statement was cold. “We’re only able to save those who can afford it.”

Su Yun replied with a smile. He understood the hidden meaning behind that statement.

Anyone who had been working in that hospital anywhere between three to five years understood that principle.

There were people who were forcibly discharged early due to their inability to afford their bills. These people were not extremely rich and did not have access to an insane amount of money; a year of unpaid bills would amount to tens of thousands of yuan. In certain rare cases, it would even reach a few hundred million. Who would be able to casually pay such a ridiculous amount of money?

“It’s time to showcase a new method, then.” Su Yun seemed optimistic as he continued where Zheng Ren left off.

“Yes, indeed. However, the only problem is that I’m not medically qualified to perform interventional therapy. I am only able to manage emergency treatment and if the patient were to pursue legal action, I can kiss my medical license goodbye.”

That nurse felt like she was listening to an incomprehensible lecture. She could not understand what the two were talking about.

Besides the constant consumption of targeted drugs for late-stage hepatocellular carcinoma, the best, most effective treatment option would be interventional therapy.

Such treatment would be able to accurately determine the cancer ma.s.s in the liver and then administer the chemotherapy drug, known as lipiodol, to embolize the main nutrient-carrying blood vessels. This would ultimately achieve the main goal of treating the cancerous ma.s.s growth.

Alternatively, a laser could be used to ‘disintegrate’ the ma.s.s.

As for the total medical fees required, not a single person in Sea City had ever undergone hepatocellular carcinoma interventional embolization. Hence, this could be considered pioneering a new field.

Since it was a new field, the hospital could be willing to charge a lower fee.

Thus, Su Yun followed Zheng Ren back to the on-call room; the nurse behind Zheng Ren sent chills down his spine when he noticed her sinister and hate-filled gaze.

“What are you following me for?”

“I am your a.s.sistant surgical officer. Today is unpredictable and if there were any emergencies at night, I worry I would be unable to return in short notice, so I will be staying here for the night,” Su Yun replied confidently.

“I don’t need an a.s.sistant for my surgeries,” Zheng Ren lamented.

“Alright, next time I will make sure to prepare the pre-surgery sheets earlier and the postoperative suturing can be left to me. I will not let you down.”

“…”