The Little Match Girl shrank into the corner of the wall, pressing herself against the wall, not daring to move.
The doctor went to the bathroom to wash his hands, kicked open the half-closed bathroom door with his foot, and walked to the bedside with his hands raised, looking at Gao Yi, who was stripped bare with his clothes cut open and thrown on the bed.
"Heartbeat."
"36."
"Blood pressure."
"60/40."
As they spoke, the nurse handed over rubber gloves. The doctor cleaned his hands with solid alcohol before putting on the rubber gloves himself.
"Prepare for surgery, anesthetic."
Both of Gao Yi's hands were fitted with intravenous cannulas. The nurse was pushing anesthetic into the needle while quickly glancing at a simple blood type test paper placed aside, and said promptly, "Blood type B."
"Prepare blood products."
There was no fresh plasma, nor could there be. In such an emergency, blood products had to be mixed on site.
