The Night They Fired Me, the Whole Hospital Begged Me to Come Back

He Wujiao worked as a doctor at Renhe General Hospital for three years. Three years without a promotion, three years without performing surgery as lead surgeon, three years of being called “a freeloader.” On the new director’s first day, he slapped a dismissal notice in He Wujiao’s face. The charge: giving a needle to a patient in a vegetative state without authorization. He took off his white coat and left without a word of protest. As he walked out the door, he left them with one sentence: “Bed Three will have a seizure at eleven tonight. Get everything ready in advance.” The whole hospital laughed. At 11:04 that night, Bed Three began convulsing, their heart rate crashing to thirty. The deputy director tried and failed. Anesthesiology tried and failed. Everyone in the hospital who could help had tried, and the patient’s pupils were beginning to dilate. Someone dug up the notebook He Wujiao had left behind: 1,096 pages over three years, documenting every episode in advance. At two in the morning, the new director drove to the old neighborhood and knocked on a peeling metal door. The man inside was eating instant noodles. “Dr. He, the whole hospital is waiting for you.” He looked up. “I’ve already been fired.” Three months later, the last line on that hospital’s surgery schedule read: [All difficult cases are to be sent to Jingyuetang.]