Iceberg's Deep Love - Chapter 9

Jianghuan Hospital, morning. The day dawned bright and sunny, and patients in hospital gowns strolled slowly around the grounds for exercise.

Several patients approached Gu Jihuan. “Good morning, Professor Gu.”

“Good morning,” Gu Jihuan replied with a smile. “Granduncle Li, don’t forget your medication. I was quite upset when you missed your dose last time. And Sister Zhang, you can start exercising now, but remember not to overdo it. Stop and rest if you feel short of breath…”

Everything seemed normal until Gu Jihuan reached her office. The moment she pushed open the door, she sensed the heavy atmosphere within.

“Doctor Shen, prepare for the first surgery. Xiao Tang, confirm the patient’s condition and bring them to the operating room.”

As Gu Jihuan finished speaking, she noticed Tang Menghua looking at her with a hesitant, conflicted expression.

Gu Jihuan blinked, checked her clothes, and confirmed she was in good condition. “What’s wrong?”

“Professor Gu,” Tang Menghua whispered, “Director Liu has suspended your surgeries for today. It’s about what I mentioned yesterday.”

“My surgery is being stopped?” Gu Jihuan asked, her voice tinged with disbelief. “Just because of Feng Chun’s complaint?”

The complaint was utterly baseless. No matter how thoroughly it was investigated, the conclusion would inevitably be that Gu Jihuan’s treatment had been flawless.

For such a severe Type A aortic dissection, surgery was the only viable solution. The procedure had been executed perfectly, with no complications whatsoever.

“The entire Jianghuan Hospital has been buzzing about your argument with Director Liu since yesterday,” Tang Menghua said, her own frustration evident. “Who knows if he’s retaliating out of personal spite?”

As she spoke, Tang Menghua pulled up a group chat on her phone and scrolled through the messages to show Gu Jihuan.

The hospital’s young doctors often formed gossip groups, excluding senior physicians and focusing on the latest rumors.

Gu Jihuan skimmed through the messages. Someone had overheard their argument yesterday and seen her leaving Director Liu’s office, sparking speculation.

Most of the speculation leaned in Gu Jihuan’s favor.

The prevailing theory was that Gu Jihuan, despite her youth, had already performed surgeries of comparable complexity and volume to Director Liu’s. Director Liu, feeling threatened, was now trying to suppress her.

The most absurd rumor claimed that Gu Jihuan was about to become the chief of Cardiothoracic Surgery, and Liu Zhiping, unwilling to step down, had argued with her.

Tang Menghua explained, “Apparently, there was a traitor in the group who sent screenshots to Director Liu.”

“Then I’ll go ask him what he means by this,” Gu Jihuan said, handing the phone back to Tang Menghua and turning to leave.

Gu Jihuan didn’t dwell on yesterday’s argument. Disagreements among doctors were commonplace: internal medicine versus surgery over conservative treatment versus surgery, surgeons arguing over surgical plans, surgeons clashing with anesthesiologists over medication protocols…

Yet all these disputes revolved around patient care. Even after heated exchanges, they maintained professional courtesy in private.

Liu Zhiping’s actions were utterly irresponsible. Canceling her surgery out of personal spite was a betrayal of the patients scheduled for today’s procedures.

These patients had undergone countless preparations and mustered immense resolve to await this surgery. Being told at the last minute that it couldn’t proceed was like a bolt from the blue.

This incident was even more outrageous and absurd than yesterday’s attempt to push the patient out.

Tang Menghua and Shen Shuo exchanged a glance and hurriedly followed Gu Jihuan out, their footsteps quickening to keep up with her.

Gu Jihuan suppressed her anger, knocked on the door, and then pushed it open.

Maintaining her usual calm tone, she said loudly, “Director Liu, I’d like to know what reasonable grounds you have for suspending my surgeries.”

“What’s this?” Liu Zhiping’s expression darkened. “Doctor Gu, are you here to demand answers?”

“No, Director Liu, that’s not our intention,” Shen Shuo quickly interjected. “We simply want to understand the reason behind this decision.”

Having worked with Gu Jihuan for over a year, Shen Shuo had initially dismissed her as a nepotistic hire. However, he had gradually become awestruck by her surgical skills.

Moreover, he knew Gu Jihuan’s personality well. She was typically approachable and warm-hearted, rarely clashing with others.

He couldn’t fathom what could have driven her to disregard all caution and confront Liu Zhiping directly in his office.

Liu Zhiping scoffed coldly. “You’ve been reported for violating medical protocols. The medical affairs department has accepted the complaint. Isn’t it perfectly normal to suspend your surgeries under such circumstances?”

“But the complaint is baseless,” Gu Jihuan countered. “I can present a surgical case review. The family is just being unreasonable. Are you really going to jump to conclusions based on rumors? As an experienced surgeon, you’ve reviewed the medical records and surgical reports. Don’t you have any professional judgment?”

“Doctor Gu, this isn’t something I can decide. Do you realize how big this has become?” Liu Zhiping slammed his hand on the desk. “Go check the views on Feng Chun’s family’s video from last night. How many people are scrutinizing Jianghuan Hospital’s Cardiothoracic Surgery department now? The hospital is under immense public pressure. Can you stop acting like a child, pretending I’m bullying you?”

“We’ll resolve this with Vice President Zhou,” Gu Jihuan said, settling into a chair in Liu Zhiping’s office.

She couldn’t believe that a baseless complaint, a fabricated accusation, could halt her surgeries.

While waiting for Vice President Zhou, Gu Jihuan pulled out her phone and watched the video Liu Zhiping had mentioned.

The video, posted on a short-video social media platform, had already garnered over a million views. It showed a woman speaking in a Jianghuan Hospital patient room, recounting Feng Chun’s entire medical journey—from his admission to Anren Hospital to his transfer to Jianghuan Hospital—and presenting various medical reports and payment receipts as evidence.

The woman meticulously recounted the entire story, even providing a detailed explanation of the treatment options for Type A aortic dissection: endovascular intervention and open-chest surgery. She emphasized that Jianghuan Hospital had chosen the more invasive open-chest surgery without consulting the family.

Her conclusion was clear: Jianghuan Hospital had prioritized profit over patient well-being by opting for the more expensive open-chest surgery.

By the end of the video, Gu Jihuan’s brow was furrowed in a deep frown.

While endovascular intervention was indeed an option, the reality was that Type A aortic dissections varied widely, and the patient’s specific condition made endovascular treatment unsuitable.

The video was skillfully crafted, presenting not only hospital bills but also citing research papers from CNKI to demonstrate successful cases of Type A aortic dissection treated with endovascular intervention. It presented itself as a factual and logical account.

The comment section naturally rallied behind this seemingly “rigorous” video, displaying remarkable “unity.”

The current healthcare system is like this: they refuse to prescribe affordable medications and instead push expensive traditional Chinese medicine.

Jianghuan Hospital thought they could get away with it, but they’ve finally met their match—someone who understands medicine. I’m waiting for the follow-up.

I just looked up the chief surgeon. She used to work abroad. Did she come back with a taste for foreign capital?

It’s the same everywhere, whether domestic or international. What do you think doctors live on?

Upstairs, I saw her photo. She’s a real beauty. I bet she got into Jianghuan Hospital through connections. She’s so young to already be a department head and professor.

The netizens’ ability to speculate was remarkable, even digging up every last detail of Gu Jihuan’s personal information.

“Professor Gu, don’t listen to their nonsense,” Tang Menghua said, her voice indignant. “If they really understood medicine, they wouldn’t be spouting such nonsense.”

“It’s fine. I don’t care,” Gu Jihuan replied, casually slipping her phone back into her pocket.

Medicine is a complex field. Understanding the nuances of Type A aortic dissection requires specialized knowledge, so it’s understandable that the public would misunderstand.

But Liu Zhiping, a renowned expert in cardiothoracic surgery, should know better.

Gu Jihuan wasn’t concerned about public opinion. All she wanted was for today’s surgery to proceed smoothly.

A gray-haired man in a white coat entered the room, his face beaming. “Xiao Gu, Lao Liu, you two are at it again, arguing over such a trivial matter.”

“Vice President Zhou,” Gu Jihuan said, rising to her feet and nodding in greeting.

Vice President Zhou sat down, paused thoughtfully, and said, “This is about Xiao Gu’s suspension from surgery, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Gu Jihuan replied with a nod. “I believe the complaint is baseless. My patients can’t afford to wait for elective procedures.”

“Xiao Gu, listen,” Vice President Zhou interrupted. “This decision wasn’t made by Lao Liu alone. I was aware of it too. The truth is, there’s been significant public pressure. Of course, I know your handling of the situation was flawless. But even so, we need time to investigate and clarify matters. Consider this a short vacation. Take a couple of days to rest at home.”

“Vice President Zhou, I don’t understand,” Shen Shuo interjected, his voice laced with anger. “The public doesn’t understand medicine, and you…”

“Never mind, I understand,” Gu Jihuan said, rising to her feet and turning to Vice President Zhou. “I hope the hospital will truly address this matter.”

“Xiao Gu, what do you mean by that?” Vice President Zhou’s smile vanished.

After so many years as a renowned figure in Cardiothoracic Surgery and having served as Vice President for so long, few dared to speak to her in such a manner.

“Professor Gu, is this really the end of it?” Tang Menghua asked, her voice filled with resentment. “It’s clear they just don’t want to take responsibility.”

“It’s alright,” Gu Jihuan replied, a heavy sense of helplessness weighing on her. “Just remember to reassure the patient. We still need to do what we can.”

Once everyone had left the office, silence descended. Gu Jihuan held her water cup, gazing out the window.

Autumn had arrived. Though the rain last night hadn’t been heavy, a layer of fallen leaves carpeted the ground. Steam rose from the hot water, forming a hazy mist on the glass.

Her office faced the main entrance of Jianghuan Hospital, located on the fifteenth floor. Two floors above was the office where her father had once worked.

Suddenly, she seemed to understand the helplessness her parents must have felt. Medical practice wasn’t just about mastering complex knowledge; managing patient relationships was even more challenging. This kind of difficulty left one feeling powerless—knowing you had the ability to heal and save lives, yet being unable to act, no matter how hard you tried.

Knock, knock, knock—three sharp knocks echoed from the door.

Gu Jihuan opened the door to find a face etched with wrinkles.

The woman clutched the hem of her dress nervously, her voice hesitant. “Doctor Gu,” she began cautiously, “Doctor Tang said our surgery was canceled. Could it be something I fed Yanyan these past few days? Are there any test results that aren’t up to par? Please tell me, and I’ll change it. Yanyan can’t wait any longer. She’s waited so many years…”

Gu Jihuan recognized her as the mother of a patient with a congenital atrial septal defect.

The patient’s heart condition had gone undetected for the first nineteen years of her life. Her family had never taken her to the hospital for checkups, assuming her weakness and poor health were simply due to a frail constitution.

It wasn’t until last year that the heart defect was discovered. Fortunately, the hole wasn’t too large, preventing a fatal outcome.

However, this realization left the mother consumed by guilt, convinced that her negligence had caused her daughter’s suffering.

She had traveled all the way from their mountain village to Jiang City, borrowing money to seek medical care, determined to find the best doctors and secure the best treatment for her daughter.

With Gu Jihuan’s surgery canceled, another doctor would have to perform the procedure. But other surgeons’ schedules were already tight, and some were forced to postpone the operation.

Every day spent in Jiang City drained their meager funds on basic living expenses. They couldn’t afford to wait, yet Gu Jihuan was powerless to help.

Gu Jihuan smiled reassuringly. “It’s not your fault. I reviewed Yanyan’s tests, and everything looks normal. The hospital had to reschedule my surgeries, so I can’t perform the procedure myself. I’ll contact another cardiothoracic surgeon to get Yanyan’s surgery done as soon as possible so you can return home.”

“But…” The woman hesitated. “You’re the one who admitted Yanyan to the hospital. We trust you.”

Gu Jihuan patiently explained for a long time before the mother finally understood. Pressed by financial constraints, she reluctantly nodded and left, her eyes lingering with reluctance.

As she reached the door, she turned back. “Doctor Gu, could you visit Yanyan when she’s discharged?”

She explained, “Yanyan always says you’re her favorite. She says you’re not only beautiful but also a brilliant doctor, her idol. She wants to become a doctor like you—a good doctor…”

Gu Jihuan’s eyes flickered slightly, and her voice softened. “Of course. I’ll definitely visit her and encourage her to study hard.”

Gu Jihuan didn’t promise to encourage her to become a doctor.

She had witnessed her own father being pushed from a building and personally experienced the suffocating helplessness of being trapped in quicksand.

Putting herself in Yanyan’s shoes, Gu Jihuan couldn’t decide whether she should advise her to pursue medicine.