Chapter 152: [152] Medicine only cares about scientific evidence.
Zhao Zhaowei’s face turned as red as a tomato, “I’m sorry, teacher.”
“If you don’t know, you don’t know. What’s the point of pretending? This is medicine, the last place where you should try to show off. It’s okay to generously admit you don’t know something. It’s pretending to know that can lead to serious mistakes!” Doctor Lin criticized the student severely in private.
“Yes, teacher.” Zhao Zhaowei lowered his head.
“You’ve looked at the electrocardiogram, what do you think?” Doctor Lin asked.
Zhao Zhaowei felt an unprecedented pressure. Wow, clinical teachers are different. After criticizing you, unlike in the classroom where the teacher would consider your feelings and give you time to cool down and reflect, a clinical teacher would just move on to the next question.
Clinical medicine is like that; you might have just been criticized, but in the next second, you must continue to save lives. Clinical doctors never have time to soothe themselves, especially in emergencies, when patients are waiting to be saved, and there is no time to leisurely take a break.
This is the reality of medicine, demanding that doctors maintain the clearest mind at all times.
“Yes—” Zhao Zhaowei struggled to adjust his emotions, “the rhythm seems irregular.”
When you say it “seems,” you also need to present evidence. Medicine only values scientific evidence.
Zhao Zhaowei kind of wanted to cry inside. He had just started his clinical internship two days ago, today being the third.
At this moment, he understood how the class president felt on the first day being dragged into the operating room and then splashed with blood on the face. It could only be said that, because of their class’s top female student, many teachers, including Doctor Lin before him, had estimated the level of their classmates to be almost the same as Xie Wanying’s.
How to present evidence to the teacher or how to answer in a way that met Doctor Lin’s expectations, he didn’t understand. Truth be told, he had been idle the previous two days in neurosurgery. After all, everyone knew he was just an intern, so they initially just let him watch.
It seemed that Doctor Lin, having experienced Xie Wanying’s nimble responses, assumed that since he had been taught in the same class, he should be able to answer as well.
“Teacher, I don’t know.” This time, Zhao Zhaowei didn’t dare to pretend to know.
“You don’t know, yet you say the patient seems to have an irregular heart rhythm?” Doctor Lin didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at this answer, as now was the time for teachers and students to discuss, and students were welcome to express their thoughts without being accused of showing off.
Zhao Zhaowei, just a few days into his clinical rotation, didn’t understand these nuances. He wasn’t like Xie Wanying, who had been reborn.
“Let’s hear it then. You said the patient seems to have an irregular heart rhythm—is there anything you saw that made you say that?” Fundamentally, Doctor Lin was a good teacher and mentor, patiently continuing to guide the student to answer. Although this student seemed to have some issues with his level, particularly when compared to Xie Wanying, he was nevertheless from the same class as her, which had taken him by surprise.
After the teacher gave a couple of hints, Zhao Zhaowei thought for a moment and said, “The electrocardiogram curve is irregular. There are problems with the intervals between waveforms.”
“Do you know what a complete electrocardiogram looks like?” Doctor Lin continued to ask.
Zhao Zhaowei became nervous again, confused, and subconsciously turned his head to look at Xie Wanying.
Xie Wanying gave him a meaningful glance.
Seeing the two exchanging looks, Doctor Lin was speechless and this time said to Xie Wanying, “Do you like helping others cheat too?”
“No, she didn’t,” Zhao Zhaowei hurriedly denied it. No matter what, he couldn’t drag a classmate down with him and continued, “I remember now, there’s the P wave, PR interval, QRS complex, ST segment, T wave, QT interval, U wave.”