When I discovered that my metacarpal was broken, I decided to go to the hospital to hear the doctor's opinion. After enduring a day of pain, I made an appointment at the orthopedic department of the provincial second hospital the next day.

I arrived at the provincial second hospital early in the morning because I couldn't sleep at night due to the pain. After waiting outside the department for a short while, it was finally my turn for a consultation. After the doctor inquired about the situation, he directly sent me for digital imaging. So, I took the doctor's order to pay the fee and then queued to scan my injured hand. After waiting for over an hour without any results, I went to the scanning room to ask, and the male doctor inside said directly, it’s broken, you can go to orthopedics now.

When I returned to orthopedics and waited in line for a while, I finally entered. After looking at the digital imaging, the doctor told me that my bone had rotated and displaced, and asked if I wanted conservative treatment or surgical treatment.

I inquired if there was any difference between conservative treatment and surgical treatment?

The doctor replied that conservative treatment involves putting on a plaster cast, as long as you can accept the defect in your finger.

Ultimately, after discussing with my family over the phone, I decided to undergo surgical treatment. My first surgery in life became a reality. However, once the surgery was performed, I had to be hospitalized. The doctor gave me a hospitalization order, saying I could come in tomorrow and then start the surgery.

Thus, my injury was delayed for another day. The next morning, my wife accompanied me to the hospital, and we completed the admission procedures at the hospitalization payment area, first paying a deposit of three thousand.

Finally hospitalized, the nurse informed me that surgery could not be performed that day and could only be scheduled for the next day. So, I effectively wasted another day.

To thank my wife for accompanying me, I specially took her to a Northeast dumpling restaurant for a big meal at noon. When we returned to the hospital, the nurse said the chief surgeon was looking for me, asking me to confirm what type of surgery I wanted, including external fixation, internal fixation, and different material options. Since I had delayed time by going out for lunch, the doctor was now unavailable, so I could only confirm it the next day.

I felt that if this continued, my wound might heal, and the damage would be even greater then. Although I thought this in my heart, I did not say it out loud.

My wife said, my husband took me out to eat, so I didn’t come over. The nurses probably found it very funny and burst into laughter. My wife is so innocent; she still doesn’t know why they are laughing.

Later, my wife went home, and I stayed in the hospital. I had bought bread and water from the supermarket in advance, so I should be able to manage the meals. In the evening, the chief surgeon finally returned to work, and I consulted him about which option to choose. The chief surgeon told me that I could have surgery the next morning; it was just a matter of choosing the option.

After the doctor explained, I decided to choose external fixation because it could be removed after a few months of wound healing without needing a second surgery. At the same time, I also told my mother back home about this, and she said to choose external fixation, as it would be less painful.

However, this matter also needed to be discussed with my wife's family. As a result, my wife and mother-in-law had opposing opinions, saying that internal fixation should be used. My mother-in-law had seen someone who had internal fixation when she was hospitalized, so she believed that internal fixation was the most reliable. Later, I learned that the person my mother-in-law saw was someone who had surgery on their spine, which required internal fixation; otherwise, it would be difficult to sleep.

I then discussed this matter with the chief surgeon and repeatedly asked if internal fixation was better than external fixation. The chief surgeon said they were the same. So, I called my mother-in-law to let them communicate with the doctor. However, after half an hour of communication, when I inquired again, they still insisted that I choose internal fixation.

At this point, I called my mother back home and said, my wife and mother-in-law both want me to choose internal fixation, and if I don’t choose, it might cause some misunderstandings.

My mother back home said, they are also doing it for your good; choosing internal fixation is fine, but you will have to undergo another surgery and suffer again.

In the end, I chose the internal fixation option, opting for the method with plates and screws. However, after enduring another night of pain, the next morning, the relevant doctors came to the ward and said they were going to start the surgery. At that moment, they found that the hospital did not have the plates and needed to get them from outside, so the surgery could not be performed temporarily, and I had to wait another day.

I endured the pain and waited another night. The next morning, before my wife arrived, they announced that I was going to have surgery. Seeing others having surgery with their family members comforting them, I could only accept the arrangement alone, feeling a bit lost. Plus, I couldn’t eat or drink for ten hours before the surgery, which made me feel somewhat dehydrated due to anxiety.

When I entered the operating room, the nurses began to inject anesthesia into me. First, they injected anesthesia into the artery of my arm, which was very painful, but I could still endure it. Next, they aimed for the artery in my neck to inject anesthesia, which was extremely painful, making me feel like I was about to collapse, with a strong urge to vomit that almost made me throw up my entire stomach, followed by uncontrollable dizziness. One nurse fanned my face, telling me not to fall asleep and to stay awake.

Then, another nurse started injecting anesthesia into my wound and pressed on the broken area, asking if I could feel pain?

Whenever I said I could feel it, they would press harder. I was a bit angry at that moment and said, don’t press so hard, it’s broken there, pressing so hard will misalign it even more.

Unexpectedly, after hearing my words, the nurse became displeased and said, this area shouldn’t have any sensation; I’ll inject you with more anesthesia, otherwise, it will hurt a lot during the surgery. We are doing this for your own good.

The chief surgeon came with an intern and used a white cloth covering me to create a barrier so I couldn’t see the details of the surgery. Then the chief surgeon began to cut open the back of my hand with a scalpel and started teaching.

Just at that moment, I suddenly felt difficulty breathing, and the nurses began to panic as my blood pressure continued to drop, reaching as low as twenty. The chief surgeon stopped and instructed someone to quickly get me oxygen to breathe.

At this time, one nurse remained somewhat calm and loudly said, you all continue with the surgery, don’t worry about this.

As I breathed in the oxygen, I felt the difficulty in breathing gradually disappear, and my blood pressure slowly returned to normal. Thus, I passed through the dangerous moment without incident. However, the subsequent actions of the doctors made me feel like a lamb to be slaughtered.

Not only was the chief surgeon teaching, but he also had the intern do some work. To make matters worse, during the surgery, he kept answering phone calls, dealing with matters outside of the surgery. I distinctly remember one family member called him, asking him to arrange for their relative's surgery promptly, and they chatted for a long time. Although I was dissatisfied, I couldn’t say much, as they held the initiative now.