Speed and passion in the emergency room
Here, time is a verb
Time, in Jin Hongyi's view, is a verb.
As the deputy chief physician of the Emergency Department of the First Medical Center of the PLA General Hospital, Jin Hongyi often has an hourglass in his mind, "The fine sand cannot stop falling."
In life, many things of Jin Hongyi are quietly accelerated by this "countdown".
Breakfast: a bottle of yogurt, a plate of side dishes, a steamed bun.
Within 3 minutes, he resolved the "fight".
The navigation map shows that it takes 10 minutes for an adult to walk 1 km.
On New Year's Eve, 500 meters from the overpass parking lot opposite the PLA General Hospital to the emergency building, Jin Hongyi walked to the comprehensive emergency department in less than 4 minutes—this is his daily speed.
When not speaking, Jin Hongyi would quietly organize files beside the computer.
The characteristics of emergency doctors are revealed as soon as they speak.
Handover at 5 pm on New Year's Eve, Jin Hongyi arrived at the hospital at 4 to start preparations.
He speaks extremely fast, and when giving medical advice, if the new nurse does not listen carefully, he often cannot keep up with the rhythm.
After explaining a patient's handling measures, Jin Hongyi will deliberately pause and leave time for nurses to ask questions.
"Speed" is contagious.
At 2 o'clock in the afternoon that day, an 80-year-old grandfather was sent to the rescue room.
At that time, Grandpa had difficulty breathing.
After a quick exchange of illness with his family, the head nurse Pan Fei of the emergency department immediately opened the airway and took out half of the dumpling from the throat. The grandfather turned the crisis into peace.
"The old man's life was taken back with time." Jin Hongyi said, "If a minute is delayed, it will be more dangerous. The medical staff in our emergency department speak fast."
It was late at night, and the rescue room was still brightly lit.
In the red file basket behind Jin Hongyi, more than 10 medical records are stacked.
"On the New Year's Eve, patients often do not want to see a doctor unless it is too late. Within a few hours of delay, the patient's condition will deteriorate rapidly and must be sent to the rescue room." Jin Hongyi said, "patients in the second half of the night. There will be more."
When speaking, Jin Hongyi's eyes never left the screen.
At this moment, the "cracking" sound of the keyboard was lowered by the "di" sound of the heartbeat monitor, and was also drowned out by the patient's groans.
Jin Hongyi has long been used to these voices.
"In the rescue room, these sounds mean hope." He said.
That feeling is an urgent need
The phone on the desk rang just after Jin Hongyi gave a medical order on the first morning of the New Year's Day.
From 1:30 in the morning to 3 in the morning, a total of 13 patients were sent to the rescue room.
"Each patient rescuing a patient is like fighting a battle." Jin Hongyi said, "In the emergency room, you must be brave to fight tough battles and be good at winning battles."
At 5 am, a middle-aged man suffered a cardiac arrest.
When he was sent to the rescue room, the patient's heart rate was already in a straight line.
Emergency tracheal intubation, chest compression...67 minutes later, the patient's heartbeat recovered and he subconsciously held Jin Hongyi's hand.
In the rescue room, Jin Hongyi will never forget the feeling of being held by the patient.
"That feeling is an urgent need." Shaking hands again and again, let Jin Hongyi strengthen the sense of mission as a military doctor.
He said that this is also the time when a military doctor "has the strongest presence."
In the emergency department, this sense of mission and presence is installed in the hearts of many medical staff.
This year's New Year's Eve is the last class of Liu Xin, a fever doctor in the emergency department.
On this day, several patients were discharged from the hospital in a row, and Liu Xin was in a great mood.
Liu Xin's lover, Chen Hua, is also an emergency doctor.
On this day, Liu Xin went to day shift and Chen Hua went to night shift.
At 8 o'clock in the evening, a middle-aged man was rushed to the hospital by 120.
With urgent judgment and decisive treatment, Chen Hua finally stabilized the patient's vital signs.
Taking advantage of the gap in rescuing the patient, Chen Hua quickly ate a few dumplings.
This military doctor with many years of front-line emergency experience said: "At the end of the new year, we can pass the rescue before the patient and family can have a good year."
On the third floor of the outpatient building, in an empty room, there is a simple restaurant with folding tables and chairs.
The number of nurses is so large that they can only take turns eating meals in a "wheel war" method.
15 dumplings and a bowl of porridge will be finished in 7 minutes.
Just as nurse Song Jia was about to pack her lunchboxes, the head nurse Song Hainan called to her and told her to finish the few dumplings left.
"She is anxious, and sometimes she runs downstairs before she finishes eating." Song Hainan said, "Why don't you eat? She just donated blood two days ago and told her to rest. This child must come to work."
"Every pack of red blood is hope." Song Jia said, "I am a reserve party member. I hope to pass on my strength to more people."
Behind that curtain, the thirst for life surged
The head nurse Song Hainan has many group photos of medical staff in the department stored in her cell phone, each with a few fewer people.
"The emergency department nurses have many shifts and night shifts, and there are very few opportunities for all the staff to take photos," she said.
In the rescue room, the race against time is repeated.
The nurses in area A went to eat in shifts, and the nurses in area B ran back and forth between the two areas with a car filled with liquid.
At that moment, the hope of life was pinned in bags of various liquids.
This evening, Song Hainan had a heavy task.
She is responsible for multiple locations such as the rescue room and emergency area at the same time.
As soon as he got out of the rescue room, the emergency landline at the triage table rang, and Song Hainan rushed over to answer the phone.
The work of the triage table is arduous and trivial.
From 7 pm to 12 midnight, nurse Zhao Fangjie saw 46 patients in 5 hours, one every 7 minutes on average.
Zhao Fangjie must conduct emergency triage only after screening for the new coronary pneumonia epidemic and physical signs of each patient.
Putting down the triage desk phone, Song Hainan's cell phone rang, and her mother told her to drink more water in her free time.
Putting down the phone, Song Hainan thought of her colleague Zhai Yongzhi—he would never receive a call from his mother again this year.
Zhai Yongzhi is a fever clinic doctor in the emergency department.
Earlier last year, he took his family back to Inner Mongolia to visit his mother who suffered from frostbite.
Before leaving, Zhai Yongzhi knew in his heart that this should be the last Spring Festival to be spent with his mother.
Boarding the train, Zhai Yongzhi received a call from Liu Gang, director of the fever clinic, asking him if he could continue to work due to the nervousness of the epidemic.
After Zhai Yongzhi and his wife explained the situation, they immediately got off the train and rushed back to the hospital.
Song Hainan remembered Zhai Yongzhi's words: "I am a military doctor. Wherever I am needed, I will go wherever I am."
Some people say that life is a circle, the beauty of a cycle and balance structure.
The cyclical work in the emergency room seems to be deforming the "circle" of Song Hainan's life-the head nurse has less and less time left with his family, and more and more guilt to his parents, to his lover and children.
At 1:30 in the morning, there were more and more patients in the rescue room, and Song Hainan raised the curtain of the rescue room again and again.
Behind the curtain, the thirst for life surged.