"Doctor Ling, is my finger okay?" Mao Penghai looked at his finger, which was still a little black, and felt quite worried.
Ling Ran observed it carefully and said, "It's recovering well. Look at the sutures. There's color now. There's basically no problem with blood supply, and the severed finger will survive. But you still have to pay attention to keeping warm … Do you want to extend the time of the lamp? "
The latter sentence was for the doctor in the rehabilitation room.
The doctor answered very enthusiastically, "Sure. You can also put the lampshade closer. We'll adjust it according to the situation."
"You also have to pay attention to raising the affected limb. Just slightly higher than the position of the heart, but not too high. Don't put your hand down or anything like that. Raising the affected limb is for venous return. If it's too high, it will affect the blood supply of the artery … "Ling Ran noticed that the edema on Mao Penghai's finger had not disappeared, and he deliberately gave him a few reminders.
Edema was a long-term side effect of finger replantation. Whether the swelling could be reduced was also an important indicator of success.
Even though Ling Ran had mastered Perfect Level Finger Replantation Skill, he had only been able to perform it recently. Mao Penghai was one of the earliest patients he had received finger replantation surgery. Ling Ran made all the arrangements in detail. He also prescribed antibiotics and other medicine to Mao Penghai. He then performed a simple physical examination before he went to the other rehabilitation rooms for ward rounds.
Mao Penghai could not help but breathe a sigh of relief. He smiled at his wife and said, "See, I told you not to worry. I'm recovering well."
"I heard from them that Doctor Ling's patients recover better than other patients," Mao Penghai's wife said with a smile. "Maybe everyone's physique is different. At least your recovery speed is normal. Sigh, you have to recuperate and get well soon. I'm the only one at home, and I'm too busy. Your mother doesn't come to help either …"
"Isn't she helping my brother take care of his child?" Mao Penghai said, but he did not continue talking about it. He started a new topic.
When he returned to the ward, Mao Penghai became more annoyed the more he thought about it. He took out a Yuxi cigarette from under the bed and quietly measured one-third of the cigarette with a plastic ruler. He then went to the bathroom and carefully lit it. He waited for two seconds before he took a light puff.
In order to prevent the people in the same room from smelling the smoke he exhaled, Mao Penghai not only turned on the ventilation fan, but he also tried his best to hold his breath. It was not until 20 seconds later that he exhaled a mouthful of smoke.
The green smoke was so thin that no color could be seen.
Mao Penghai looked at the thin, low-tar cigarette. There was still a long way to go before he reached the one-third mark. He took another gentle puff and stopped with great self-control. He extinguished the cigarette and stared at it for a few seconds before he threw it into the toilet and flushed it away.
"It's not that I'm wasting good cigarettes. I can't help it." Mao Penghai said to the cigarette butt with a trace of guilt.
After all, wastage was shameful.
Mao Penghai took off his pants and sat on the toilet in order to let the ventilation fan circulate more air. He created the smell while stalling for time.
He held the phone in one hand and swiped across the screen with the other. It was quite leisurely and comfortable.
When he lost his hand, Mao Penghai felt like the sky was falling.
Losing a finger would definitely affect his work. It was impossible for him to get a promotion and a raise, and it was very likely that he would lose his job. At that time, his wife would mock him.
As for the inconvenience of missing fingers and the ugliness of missing fingers, there was no need to even mention it.
However, as the surgery was successfully completed, Mao Penghai's mood gradually calmed down.
His finger was naturally not as beautiful as before, but it was still passable. His wife was still so fierce, but it was still passable. Smoking was the only thing that he could not get over, but he could still get over it if he smoked once every two days …
Mao Penghai calmly swiped his phone. Suddenly, he noticed that the spot where his severed finger was originally slightly red had become pale.
For a moment, Mao Penghai's mind was blank.
Half a minute later.
Mao Penghai ran out of the ward and shouted, "Doctor … doctor …"
Lu Wenbin rushed to the scene immediately. He then looked at the pale severed finger and became nervous.
The degree of swelling, skin temperature, and the color of the severed finger were the most important visual indicators after a finger replantation. The color of Mao Penghai's finger was obviously not up to standard.
Lu Wenbin gently moved his hand closer to the finger, and he was not surprised to find that the skin temperature was lower than normal.
A low skin temperature meant that the blood flow had slowed down, and there might even be a thrombosis.
Thrombosis was a blockage in the blood vessels. For a normal person, a slight thrombosis could be resolved with confidence. However, if they encountered a more serious thrombosis, anyone could face a certain degree of risk.
It should be said that for a group of humans, thrombosis was just one of the countless fatal phenomena. But for any individual human, once they discovered a thrombosis, they would definitely be considered lucky if they could escape unscathed.
"Prepare the operating theater. Inform Doctor Ling that the patient in Bed 25 is experiencing a blood circulation crisis. Open up the venous access. "Lu Wenbin first made the decision that was the least likely to go wrong. At the same time, his mind spun quickly.
There were not many doctors who dared to claim that they were skilled in finger replantations.
Lu Wenbin felt a little guilty.
He was extremely grateful. Over the past few days, Ling Ran had ordered him and Ma Yanlin to read a lot of nursing information about finger replantations.
Lu Wenbin recalled while he weighed the pros and cons in his heart.
If it was possible, he hoped that Ling Ran could be there to guide him.
However, as a resident doctor from the Emergency Department, Lu Wenbin knew that it was impossible. High-ranking doctors would not sit in an empty room and wait for patients to come to them to provide the best medical services. The wards in the inpatient building were full of patients waiting for high-ranking doctors to provide services.
Regardless of whether it was the Emergency Department or the Inpatient Department, the first-string doctors who faced patients could only be resident doctors like Lu Wenbin or attending physicians who were slightly more senior.
"Doctor Lu?" The nurse who had set up the venous access reminded him.
Lu Wenbin knew that he had to use medicine. Ling Ran was not there, and he could not perform a physical examination. Even if he called him, he might not be able to make it in time, and he might not even get the most appropriate answer.
Fortunately, Lu Wenbin was a resident doctor from the Emergency Department. In the past four to five years, he had handled hundreds of emergency cases. Lu Wenbin looked at the pale fingers in front of him, calmed himself down, and ordered, "Intravenous heparin, 25 milligrams, halido, 50 milligrams …"
After thinking for another two seconds, Lu Wenbin ordered again, "10 milligrams of pershon."
The nurse repeated and got busy.
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