My father-in-law was in a car accident, his face mangled, and was rushed to the hospital for emergency treatment.
The female intern under my husband, the hospital director, insisted on operating.
“Master, I have to do this operation today! I’ll prove my skills are just as good as those of the other male surgical interns!”
My husband agreed without hesitation.
But she couldn’t even identify the surgical site and punctured a blood vessel.
Instead, she glared at the scalpel and complained, “This scalpel was clearly designed for male doctors! You’re deliberately making things difficult for us female doctors!”
My husband kept soothing her.
By the time she took up the scalpel again, the patient on the operating table had stopped breathing.
The two of them came out of the operating room and, when they saw me, brazenly said, “Sign this letter of forgiveness.”
“Your dad didn’t have much longer to live anyway. Lili is still young. You can’t ruin her future because of your dad!”
It turned out he still didn’t know that the person on the operating table wasn’t my father at all. It was his own father.
Looking at his utterly unrepentant face, I sneered. “I’m not the one who has the authority to write this letter of forgiveness.”
