I Am Diagnosed as a Medical Titan

Chapter 8: Chapter 8: Textbook-Level First Aid in Feiyu Internet Cafe

Feiyu Internet Cafe.

Jiang He stared at Shen Yu’s reply on the screen. He chuckled, then fell silent for a long time...

’Shen Yu is such a fool.’

’Always so gullible, believing whatever anyone tells her.’

A sharp pain suddenly stabbed at his heart.

His memory was instantly pulled back to the intensive care unit from his past life, a place that reeked of disinfectant.

Back then, he had gripped her emaciated hand, his eyes bloodshot, and said, "Darling, the new medicine will be here soon. You’ll get better once you take it." fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com

That was the biggest lie he had ever told in his life.

He knew better than anyone that there was no new medicine, nor would there be any miracle.

But Shen Yu at the time had nodded without hesitation, gently squeezing his hand.

"My Dr. Jiang is the best. If you say I can be cured, then I definitely can be."

Her voice was so weak, yet she comforted him instead, "Don’t work yourself too hard, honey. It breaks my heart..."

Jiang He closed his eyes.

He took a deep breath and rubbed his face hard.

He was about to close the web page.

Suddenly.

THUD!

A loud noise came from the front rows.

Immediately, more voices erupted.

"Hey! Holy shit! What’s wrong with this guy?"

"Is he convulsing? Is it an epileptic seizure?"

"He was just pounding his chest saying it hurt. We thought he was just tired from being up all night and told him to rest, but he collapsed as soon as he stood up."

"Hey! Wake up! Don’t scare us!"

The once-noisy internet cafe fell silent in an instant. Many people stopped what they were doing to look over.

In front of a computer in the front row, someone yelled in a panic, "Owner! Owner! Someone fainted!"

"Coming, coming!"

The owner rushed out.

On the floor lay a rail-thin young man in a black T-shirt with "Linkin Park" printed on it. His hair was dyed a straw-yellow.

The young man was desperately clutching the clothes on his chest. His whole body arched violently like a fish out of water, his mouth wide open, clearly unable to draw a breath.

This was definitely not an act, and it scared the onlookers into backing away.

"Is... is this a heart attack?"

"Quick, call 911!"

"Is anyone here a doctor? The Medical School is right next door. Are there any medical students?!"

That shout sent the internet cafe into an uproar.

Chen Hao immediately stopped his raid and shot to his feet.

As a medical student, no matter how much of a slacker he usually was, his professional instincts, etched into his very bones, took over in a situation like this.

Before Jiang He could say a word, Chen Hao was already sprinting over.

"Make way! I’m a student from the Medical University! Let me see!"

Chen Hao forcefully pushed through the crowd and squeezed into the circle.

Jiang He followed him.

In the center of the circle, Chen Hao knelt on one knee, his expression tense.

He patted the young man’s face. "Hey! Hey, can you hear me?"

There was no response.

The young man’s face was visibly turning a bluish-purple, especially his lips, which were almost black.

Chen Hao’s heart sank.

’This is classic cyanosis! Severe hypoxia!’

’Sudden collapse and cyanosis... it’s most likely sudden cardiac death or a malignant arrhythmia!’

’I have to start resuscitation immediately!’

"Call 911!" Chen Hao yelled back at the internet cafe owner. "I’m a medical student, and I’m going to start CPR!!"

With that, Chen Hao took a deep breath, interlaced his hands, and tensed the heels of his palms.

He aimed for the center of the young man’s chest, on the line between his nipples, and was about to press down.

Just in the nick of time.

Jiang He rushed out from the side, grabbing Chen Hao’s wrist in a death grip. "Stop."

Chen Hao froze and turned his head, frantic. "Jiang He! What are you doing?! He’s about to die! If I don’t start compressions, he’s a goner!"

"If you press down, he’ll die even faster."

Jiang He didn’t let go. Instead, he tightened his grip and pulled Chen Hao’s arms away from the patient’s chest.

"Look at his neck. His jugular vein is distended, see it?"

Chen Hao paused and looked closely.

Sure enough, the vein on the right side of the young man’s neck was bulging frighteningly, looking like it was about to burst.

"Now look at his trachea. It’s deviated to the left."

As he spoke, he reached out and tapped the man’s right chest twice.

TAP. TAP.

The sound was crisp, like tapping on an empty cardboard box.

"Hyperresonance," Jiang He said, looking up. His gaze was calm, and he spoke quickly. "Fullness of the right hemithorax, absent breath sounds, jugular venous distention, tracheal deviation, hyperresonant to percussion... What is it?"

Chen Hao’s brain seemed to crash for a second.

Then, he immediately answered, "Ten... Tension Pneumothorax?!"

He gasped, his face turning deathly pale.

A Tension Pneumothorax... It’s when a ruptured lung allows air to enter the chest cavity but not escape. The pressure builds up dramatically, crushing the heart and the opposite lung!

Performing chest compressions at this time would mean applying external force to an already compressed heart, possibly even puncturing more lung tissue and accelerating death!

"I... I almost..." Chen Hao stared at his own hands, trembling with lingering fear.

"Don’t just stand there."

Jiang He had already taken command of the scene.

He spoke rapidly, "Go to the clinic downstairs! Buy a disposable IV set! And a large syringe, the kind with the thickest needle! Also, get medical tape and a bottle of rubbing alcohol! Go now!"

"Huh? Oh! Right! I’m going now!"

As if jolted from a trance, Chen Hao scrambled toward the stairwell.

"Owner!" Jiang He turned to the owner. "Get me a clean bottle of mineral water. Pour out half of the water."

The owner didn’t dare hesitate. He did as he was told and handed it over, his hands trembling.

Jiang He took the water bottle and placed it beside him, ready for use.

The surrounding crowd watched, holding their breath.

’This guy... he’s so calm.’

’As expected of a student from the Medical School! Thank god he’s here!’

’But... can he really be saved?’

The young man on the floor was now starting to roll his eyes back. His consciousness was fading, and his chest was barely moving.

"Hang in there," Jiang He said in a low voice as he loosened the collar of the man’s T-shirt and tilted his chin up slightly, doing his best to keep the airway open.

「Two minutes later.」

The sound of frantic footsteps came from the stairwell.

"I’m here! I’m here! I got it!"

Chen Hao rushed back, panting, clutching a white plastic bag.

Jiang He snatched the bag from him.

He quickly unscrewed the cap of the alcohol bottle and poured it over the patient’s right chest, at the second intercostal space on the midclavicular line, rinsing a large area to disinfect it.

Although the conditions were crude and it was impossible to follow strict sterile procedure,

when it came to saving a life, this was the best he could do under the circumstances.

Next, he tore open the packaging, cut off the lower end of the IV tubing, and kept only the long section with the connector.

Then he forcefully twisted the Luer lock connector from the IV set into the base of the large needle.

CLICK. It was a perfect fit.

He stuck the other, severed end of the flexible tube directly into the half-full water bottle, submerging it in the water.

A simple, improvised "water-seal" closed drainage system was now complete.

"Hold his shoulders," Jiang He ordered Chen Hao.

Chen Hao immediately went forward and held the patient’s shoulders down firmly to prevent him from moving in response to the pain.

Jiang He knelt on the ground.

His left hand felt for the patient’s clavicle, his index and middle fingers quickly finding the spot.

The midclavicular line, second intercostal space.

Jiang He pressed his fingers firmly against the skin, gauging the thickness of the subcutaneous fat.

’Good, the guy is thin enough.’

According to the improved emergency guidelines of the future, a midaxillary line insertion was actually the preferred choice, as the chest wall is thinner there and less prone to blockage.

But according to the materials he had looked up today, in ’08, the midclavicular line was the only gold standard.

To avoid being accused of procedural malpractice later, Jiang He chose the insertion point that best fit the standards of this era.

"Brace yourself."

Jiang He’s gaze sharpened as he pinched the wings of the needle with his right hand.

Without a moment’s hesitation, he inserted the needle perpendicularly!

PFFT.

He felt the slight resistance of the needle piercing the skin and intercostal muscle through his fingertips.

The next second, he clearly felt the tell-tale ’give’ as the needle broke through the parietal pleura.

The instant the needle entered the pleural cavity—

—in the mineral water bottle on the floor,

BLUB BLUB BLUB BLUB BLUB!

A frantic stream of bubbles erupted, churning violently like boiling water.

It was like the pressure-limiting valve had suddenly been ripped from a pressure cooker.

This proved that the high-pressure gas trapped in the chest cavity was now frantically escaping through the needle and tube into the water...