Professor Zhang didn't speak again. He just quietly stared at the MRI image on the electronic screen, squinting his eyes.
In his decades of practicing medicine, he had encountered this kind of helpless situation countless times. This was neither the first nor would it be the last.
"Do your best, try to improve the quality of life as much as possible, let the child suffer less. This can be done, right?"
Professor Zhang stood up, stretched his back, and then, hands clasped behind him, walked out of the doctor's office. Yang Ping watched his retreating figure, feeling somewhat heavy-hearted.
Actually, every doctor wishes to cure their patients, but often, they just can't.
After walking a few steps, Professor Zhang turned his head to glance back at the doctor's office and saw Zhang Lin instructing intern doctors on how to properly write medical records.
"Xiao Zhang, gather everyone, to the duty room for overtime!" Professor Zhang called out.