Chapter 68 - 0066: Surrealism
Chapter 68: Chapter 0066: Surrealism
One hundred and twenty drawings for a single surgery.
Aside from himself, only Song Zimo has this patience.
Yang Ping admired him, genuinely!
The stool is in the corner, not hindering others’ comings and goings.
Yang Ping, leaning his head against the wall, takes a short rest, and enters the system space.
Medical Illustration, this gap must be filled, a good surgeon needs to be proficient in image construction.
But the system only has surgery training, there is no item for medical illustration.
There’s always a way, it can be achieved with the help of the system library.
Yang Ping selects a few medical illustration books, as medical illustration is just the application of drawing techniques in medicine. It requires mastery of some basic drawing skills.
There are many schools of drawing both in the east and west, which one to choose?
The library has a vast amount of resources, grasping useful information in these resources is not a simple task.
Yang Ping wants to ask the system, but it completely ignores him.
I had to find useful information from memory then, surrealism! Yes, that’s the school. The most important thing in medical illustration is realism, to realistically reflect the object, what could be more real than surrealistic painting.
Yang Ping selected a few more basic surrealism painting tutorials.
The books’ introduction to the art movement and some classic paintings left Yang Ping dumbfounded.
The verisimilitude of each painting exceeds that of high-definition cameras.
One of them was even drawn with a ballpoint pen.
And there was one painter who used their self-portrait as the photo for their United States visa application, and it was actually approved!
A single painter’s brush can be so expressive! Astonishing!
From the tools of primitive humans to today’s precision machinery, technological advances continue endlessly. And so does craftmanship, such as orthopedics, from the simple pull to the ultimate pursuit of left and right mutual combat techniques.
Yang Ping began to learn to draw in space, starting with the most basic surrealistic painting, then applying it to medical illustration.
I don’t know how long the learning process took, but finally, I was able to draw a decent picture.
Although it’s not at a very high level, it’s more than enough to illustrate a shoulder joint.
Time passed quickly, and quietly managed to consume four thousand points, bringing the points down to nine thousand again.
I can’t consume any more points, I immediately exit the system space.
Yang Ping pulls out a sheet of A4 paper from the printer next door, picks up the pencil next to it, and starts to draw. After finishing, he quietly hangs it on the viewing light.
The fracture is fragmented, there are too many bone fragments, it’s hard to know where to start.
But Song Zimo is not daunted, he has Little Five and Zhang Lin on his side, he fixed the bone fragments with his right hand and held the electric drill with his left hand.
The order of operation is clear in his mind, the Kirschner wires cross each other, it seems simple, but it is full of the mystery of mechanics.
Science makes the impossible possible.
With the stopping of the electric drill’s buzzing sound, the surgery is successful.
Song Zimo tries to move the shoulder joint, the bone fragment fixation is very stable.
The ingenious layout of the Kirschner wires allows the bone fragments to form dynamic stability, tightening each other during movement.
Rinse, suture, the operation is over.
Song Zimo is like an eagle, landing from a storm, standing on a cliff rock.
Yang Ping returned to sit in the corner, leaning against the wall, he enjoyed this relaxing feeling.
Little Five Zhang Lin cleaned up the aftermath, Song Zimo took off his surgical gown.
On the viewing light, next to the X-ray, a piece of A4 paper with a drawing was added, Song Zimo, after throwing his gloves into the yellow collection bin, approached it.
This is not just a simple medical illustration, it’s an art of surrealism, a masterpiece of a pencil.
Compared to a professional painter, it’s not even entry-level. But as a medical illustration, it absolutely has a killer ability.
There were only three pictures, one of the fractured bone, one of the reduction, and one of the fixation. Each bone fragment and each Kirschner wire was marked with a numerical order.
The sequence of reduction shown in this drawing, the placement of Kirschner wires is better than his own method.
Song Zimo turned his head to look at Yang Ping.
Yang Ping lazily threw him a sentence: “There are many ways to restore a Rubik’s Cube, yours is just one of them.”
I used a hundred and twenty drawings just to infer today’s proud result, while he thought of a better plan in less than a single surgery’s time.
Little Five Zhang Lin also gathered interest in that drawing, but he didn’t understand.
When immortal beings fight, in the world of mortals, there is only the rumble of thunder.
The lion-like determination needs constant activating, Song Zimo’s potential extends far beyond, he cannot be struck down.
Director Han is in discussion with the head nurse, evaluating what additional surgical equipment and tools the orthopedic department might need. It appears that the orthopedics department is soon to become Micro Orthopedics.
Only two words will go upon the plaque, yet they symbolize an evolutionary trend, the emergence of a comprehensive trauma orthopedics department is on the horizon.
There have been some difficulties with the surgery that Director Tian is handling, so he requested Director Han’s guidance.
The patient had an acetabular fracture with accompanying sciatic nerve damage. Having been injured for over ten days, he was transferred from another hospital.
Yang Ping couldn’t help but wonder what exactly those difficulties might be. Passing by the sink, he saw Su Yixuan teaching a few intern nurses the seven steps of proper hand washing.
With a brief eye-contact, they greeted each other.
Su Yixuan quickly glanced at Yang Ping’s flip-flops before returning her full attention to the intern nurses, continuing her teaching.
Her voice is graceful, her Mandarin standard, and her pronunciation so clear.
Turns out, the problem at Director Tian’s end was the fact that during the surgical exploration, it was discovered that a fractured piece of the acetabulum was compressing the sciatic nerve. The sciatic nerve was crushed.
Before the surgery, the patient’s injured side had sensory-motor disorders in the lower limbs. After doing an electromyogram, it showed that there was a blockage in the transmission of the sciatic nerve, and the MRI showed that it was severed.
A high peripheral nerve rupture, chances of recovery are slim to none. Likely to be chronically impaired.
So, Tian Yuan requested Director Han came for a consultation. Technically, however, this isn’t a big problem — it’s just a matter of reattaching the nerve. How much function can be restored will be up to fate.
Still, it is wise to let the director personally examine such matters, the more opinions, the better, doing so also helps to share the risks.
“Have we thoroughly communicated with the patient before surgery?” Director Han asked, concerned.
Tian Yuan responded: “Yes, we were clear about the situation. The electromyograms from both the outside hospital and ours indicated that the sciatic nerve was severed. They had made a clear diagnosis.”
“That’s good, let’s proceed with a nerve anastomosis, using the microscope.”
Tian Yuan tilted his head, and the patrolling nurse helped him put on the magnifying glass headset. With his hands floating above the patient, he began to join the nerves
Surgery in mid-air is quite challenging, but Director Tian is very skilled. It’s just that he is so comprehensive in his work that it’s easy to overlook. His gaining of Director Han’s trust was not without reason.
After finishing a surgery, Director Ouyang came looking for Director Han.
Director Han had previously said hello to Director Ouyang in his operating room, promising to find some time to talk once he was free.
Directors Han and Ouyang left the operating room, heading towards the changing room or the resting room.
It was now noon, time to rest and have the surgical meal.
Su Yixuan was still acquainting the intern nurses with the equipment in the operating room, she ran into Yang Ping again and said, “Check your WeChat later, I sent a file to you.”
A standard conversational tone between colleagues, nothing that draws attention.
After saying this, she continued to explain the basics of the C-arm X-ray machine to the intern nurses, behaving like a gentle big sister to nursery students.
A file, what file? Even punctuations are a big deal, let alone a file.
Over here, Song Zimo had finished another surgery and was sitting in a corner studying a drawing done by Yang Ping.
If their morning surgeries were done, they’d rest; if not, they’d continue working.
The cleaning staff started cleaning the garbage in the operating rooms which had just finished surgeries, doing thorough cleaning and sterilization.
Yang Ping opened his locker in the changing room and took out his cell phone.
What file? A WeChat message from Su Yixuan: “Top shelf, all the way to the left, in the surgical canteen cabinet. There’s a bottle of chili sauce there with your name on it.”
Everyday meals in the operating room are boxed meals provided by the cafeteria. Though the cafeteria food isn’t too bad, the taste always lacked a bit. Sometimes, staff will bring their own hot sauce, spices to add some flavor. They usually keep these condiments in the canteen cabinet, marked with their names, to enhance their meals whenever necessary.
Yang Ping had thought about this before but always forgets. A warm feeling sprouted within him.
In the canteen cabinet, the top shelf, there was indeed a new bottle of hot sauce to the left, even with a little spoon aside.
Little Five had already helped to get the boxed meal out of the food warmer and placed it on the table: “Brother, here.”
Yang Ping brought the hot sauce over and Little Five excitedly exclaimed: “Wow, hot sauce!”
Zhang Lin was eager to try it.
Yang Ping felt something was wrong and stopped trying to open the bottle: “This is expired, it can’t be eaten.”
Ignoring the hopeful gazes of Little Five and Zhang Lin, Yang Ping took the hot sauce back to the changing room, opened his locker, placed the hot sauce in the most inner part, made sure it was in a good spot, then locked the locker.
Coming back, he naturally commented: “I threw it out.”
Song Zimo sat alone at the furthest table, he doesn’t like to sit with others while eating.
People who knew this wouldn’t try to intrude, and for those who didn’t know and sat together with him, they wouldn’t talk either. It’s no different than eating alone. The only difference is whether you occupy a whole table or half of it.
While eating, he was also studying that drawing, occasionally using his fingers to measure or trace on it.
Medical drawings too! Even with a touch of surrealism.
Song Zimo looked up and turned his gaze towards Yang Ping.
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