However, our little classmate Ye was still a soft bun on her first clinical rotation.
The type who, if someone provoked her, would just fluff off and walk away.
Ye Wushu kept a straight face. "I'll only teach this once, so listen carefully."
"Click here to write the medical history, this is the order system, blood transfusion requests go here, the intensive care unit needs the red side…"
"New patients need an admission note and initial assessment on their first day. If you can't remember the daily progress notes, just write one for attending rounds and one for chief rounds…"
Ye Wushu's throat was getting sore from all the talking. She turned her head and saw the other person's eyes shining brightly. "Junior sister, you're amazing! I've heard before that you neurology folks write the best medical histories!"
Ye Wushu: "…"
Ye Wushu blurted out, "I'm not writing your medical histories for you!"
Lu Junran froze for a moment, then quickly said, "How could I ask that!"
Ye Wushu felt a twinge of guilt. They were both rotating through clinical departments, both just grunt workers. Logically speaking, they should be comrades on the same side of the battlefield—how could there be internal discord?
She really shouldn't have said that…
But the next second, Lu Junran sidled up with a cheeky grin. "Junior sister, there's so much I don't know. I'll need to consult you on everything."
Their conversation was interrupted by a nurse: "Print the blood transfusion request and order for Bed 6."
"Set up rate control for Bed 8."
"Order special-level care for Bed 10."
"Come adjust the ventilator for Bed 28."
Little classmate Lu wasn't skilled at his job, so all these arduous tasks fell on little classmate Ye.
But Ye Wushu didn't know how to adjust the ventilator either. She had to ask her superior, the teaching secretary, Teacher Wu Yue.
Wu Yue looked at these two little dumbbells and sighed inwardly. Damn the education department—why had they given her two people who couldn't do anything this month?
Her critical care medicine department was swamped every single day. Wouldn't it have been better to give her an emergency medicine or anesthesiology student? At least don't stick her with first-year students!
But Wu Yue genuinely couldn't muster any anger. Although these two students were "slow," they made up for it with good attitudes and decent looks.
The young girl looked at her with big, pleading eyes, reminding Wu Yue of her "daughter"—a ragdoll cat.
Not to mention how sincere Ye Wushu's attitude toward learning was: "Teacher, what does SIMV mode mean?"
Every time Wu Yue said something, she wrote it down in her notebook:
"VCV/PCV is fully machine-controlled, used for patients with no spontaneous breathing at all; SIMV is synchronized intermittent mandatory ventilation, used for patients who already have some spontaneous breathing; CPAP is purely patient-driven spontaneous breathing…"
After Ye Wushu finished taking notes, she turned her head and saw Lu Junran spacing out. How infuriating! She wasn't going to help him!
Lu Junran had no idea about Ye Wushu's inner thoughts. He still thought this junior sister was exceptionally capable and very enthusiastic. These three months of ICU rotation were going to be smooth sailing!
"By the way, how long are you two staying in our department?"
Ye Wushu & Lu Junran: "Three months."
"Ah!" Wu Yue finally showed her first genuine smile of the day. "That's great. Take your time learning, and come ask me if there's anything you don't understand."
Three months, not one month, meant she wouldn't have to train new people next month.
"Let me divide the beds between you. We currently have 11 self-managed patients, so one of you gets 6 and the other gets 5." Wu Yue asked, "Who wants 6, and who wants 5?"
"Here's what we'll do!" Wu Yue quickly made the decision. "Lu Junran, you manage the front group of 6 beds. You're older, so you should take care of your junior sister."
Lu Junran, who was only one year older than Ye Wushu: "…" But he agreed readily. "Fine!"
Managing one extra bed made no difference to Lu Junran, because he managed things pretty roughly.
It was Monday today. In the morning, some patients were being transferred out, while a large number of patients were queuing up to come in.
Every new patient transfer came with a flood of orders.
The nurse teacher said, "New Bed 9: order no-companion care, and click special-level care."
"Bed 17 needs a deep vein care qd order."
"Bed 21 is today's post-op patient—orders haven't been written yet, hurry and chase that up."
Some patients were co-managed, so whenever there was an issue with them, Ye Wushu had to send it to the co-managing department first, wait for their reply, and then post it in the 6th floor ICU medical communication group.
Ye Wushu felt like a human answering machine.
The nurse asked in the group: [Bed 11 is today's neurosurgery DSA patient. When is the bandage coming off?]
So Ye Wushu posted in the neurosurgery group: [The nurse is asking when Bed 11's bandage will be removed.]
After a while, the neurosurgeon replied in the group: [This patient's coagulation is poor. Keep it compressed a bit longer. We'll take a look during evening rounds.]
Just after replying to that, a new message popped up in the group: [Yesterday's post-op patient, Bed 3's drainage tube blood is quite red, about 100ml (photo) (photo)]
So Ye Wushu forwarded it to the thoracic surgery doctor communication group.
The thoracic surgeon replied: [Help us add a bag of colloid, and keep observing. Thanks.]
In the chaos, Ye Wushu also helped Lu Junran handle a few medical orders. She was so busy that she lost track of time, until at noon, Lu Junran brought up two bags of takeout. "Junior sister, time for lunch."
Her stomach immediately let out a growl, which was then drowned out by the noisy machines of the ICU.
Ye Wushu was a fledgling graduate student, not yet the "darkened version" Dr. Ye of the future. She harbored no ill will toward anyone, nor was she the least bit aggressive.
"Thank you, senior brother!"
At this stage, Ye Wushu showed the greatest goodwill toward people, held the most beautiful hopes for the future, and had the most genuine concern for her patients.
They took their food to the lounge area to eat, and Ye Wushu, having been "bought off" by a free lunch, earnestly advised Lu Junran: "Senior brother Lu, you need to take this more seriously. What are you going to do when you go to the next department?"
Lu Junran watched Ye Wushu as she tore open the packaging, the hand hidden in his pocket almost reaching out, but he held back.
"Oh, it doesn't matter. I'm only in clinical for six months. I'm a PhD student, so once my rotation is done, I'll go back to the lab."
Your clinical, my clinical—seems they're not quite the same…
Background music appropriately played in Ye Wushu's head, but thinking about it, it made sense. For her, a professional master's student, clinical rotations were the same everywhere in the country, but she'd never heard of many PhD students doing them. Ye Wushu's verdict: truly miserable.
Lu Junran's next words dispelled her sympathy: "So during this time, I'll be counting on you to take care of me, junior sister!"
Ye Wushu silently put down her chopsticks. "I'm not eating anymore." So this was a trap.
Lu Junran couldn't help but laugh, and still couldn't resist reaching out to ruffle her hair.
His junior sister looked like a little squirrel with its fur all puffed up.
Startled, Ye Wushu stood up and took a step back. "Senior brother, did you wash your hands?" She couldn't bear the thought of hands that had touched ICU patients touching her hair.
Lu Junran looked down at his own hands, as if just realizing this was a very rude gesture. "Sorry."
How was he supposed to explain to his junior sister that he wasn't usually the type to be so forward—he just thought she was adorable?
Lu Junran felt a bit annoyed at himself.
Ye Wushu was deeply distressed but still tried to be polite: "It's fine."