In the doctor’s office, Chen Yu was writing the surgical report and post-operative treatment plan.
This was an open-chest surgery. The sternum alone would take over three months to heal.
Even though Vivian Foe was a professional athlete with a stronger body, it would still take him nearly a year to recover fully.
But the good thing was, his life had been saved.
And Chen Yu couldn’t possibly stay in France that long, so the post-operative treatment plan had to be handed over to the local doctors.
Chen Yu didn’t write too much. After all, he wasn’t a professional cardiologist, so his treatment plan was bound to be less than comprehensive.
As he was writing, Henderson returned and plopped down in the chair opposite Chen Yu.
He was in his forties, with a large nose, a severely receding hairline, and a slightly plump figure. Having just finished the post-op press conference, he looked as if he’d been fished out of a pool of sweat, panting heavily.
After catching his breath, Henderson said, "Chen, you should have gone. This was your achievement."
From the quick diagnosis on the field to the immediate transport to the hospital, you even performed a precise pericardiocentesis en route. And to top it all off, you personally stepped in and completed the heart surgery. It’s safe to say that Vivian Foe is alive entirely because of you.
"Go where? To be interrogated by reporters? Forget it. I don’t have the time to deal with them." Chen Yu waved his hand dismissively and pushed aside the medical file.
Henderson asked, "Chen, do you not like reporters?"
Chen Yu shook his head. "It’s not that I don’t like them. I just feel that dealing with them is a waste of time. Besides, I don’t need their thanks, nor do I need them to report on how successful my surgery was."
’I’m long past the stage of needing media reports to build my reputation.’
’My name itself is a gold standard.’
"Compared to interviews with reporters, I’d much rather receive the family’s gratitude."
Chen Yu picked up a necklace from the desk and dangled it in front of Henderson. "A lion’s."
A short while ago, Vivian Foe’s son, Scott Ford, had specifically sought out Chen Yu to give it to him.
It was a lion’s canine tooth, a gift from Vivian Foe to his son, hoping he would grow up to be as strong as a lion.
The little guy then passed it on to Chen Yu, thanking him for saving his father.
"He certainly has every reason to thank you." Henderson nodded in deep agreement. After a moment of silence, he asked, "Chen, how do you know how to perform heart surgery?"
There are general practitioners, but there are absolutely no surgeons who can perform every type of surgery.
Nowadays, medical departments are increasingly specialized, and surgeries are more and more complex. A person’s energy is limited; mastering one specialty is difficult enough, let alone all of them.
The key thing was that Chen Yu came from an orthopedic background, yet he could jump over to cardiology to perform surgery. The leap was just too great.
Chen Yu had already prepared his excuse. "Our clinic is short-staffed, so we all have to wear multiple hats. I studied cardiology with our clinic’s cardiac surgeon, so I know a little."
Henderson remained silent. He didn’t quite believe that explanation.
’Back in the operating room, Chen Yu’s delicate technique, his precise suturing in such a confined space... that was far more than just ’knowing a little.’’
Just as they were speaking, an intern came over to inform them that Vivian Foe had woken up.
In the ICU, Chen Yu saw Vivian Foe.
He was wearing a chest binder and couldn’t move.
He was also extremely weak, his gaze vacant. Having collapsed so suddenly, he had no memory of what had happened.
However, he was clearly taken aback when he saw Chen Yu.
He had met Chen Yu before the match.
"How are you feeling?" Chen Yu stepped forward, the Eye of All-Seeing scanning his body.
’It must be due to the surgery’s effect. There’s almost no post-operative inflammation or infection.’
With such a major surgery, post-operative infections and inflammation are the biggest problems.
Vivian Foe nodded slightly to indicate he was okay, then asked, "Dr. Chen, why am I here? What happened to me? Oh, and how did the match go?"
His last memory was of halftime.
Chen Yu patted his shoulder and said, "Your family is here. I’ll arrange for them to visit in a little while. Don’t think about anything right now, just focus on resting."
After speaking, he couldn’t help but sigh inwardly.
’His professional career is over.’
’It’s nearly impossible for him to return to the professional field. Or rather, even if his body could recover, no club would dare to sign him again.’
’The risk of reinjury is too great.’
’And he’s only 28 this year, in the prime of his career, and the father of three children.’
Vivian Foe opened his mouth, seeming to guess what had happened. His eyes grew red and moist. He grabbed Chen Yu’s arm with his free left hand and said a heartfelt "thank you."
"Get some rest."
With a final word of advice, Chen Yu left the ward.
After saying goodbye to Henderson, Chen Yu prepared to leave the hospital.
The sky had long since turned dark.
But a crowd of reporters still surrounded the entrance to the emergency center.
As Chen Yu passed through the ground floor lobby, he saw reporters swarming around Blatter for an interview in the distance.
’The old man still hasn’t left.’
Just then, Blatter caught sight of Chen Yu out of the corner of his eye and quickly pushed through the reporters to run over.
The moment before the elevator doors to the underground garage were about to close, Blatter squeezed in.
He squeezed into the elevator, smiled at Chen Yu, and thanked him once again.
"No need."
Blatter paid no mind to Chen Yu’s coldness. When the elevator doors opened, he immediately followed him out and said quickly, "Chen, I am deeply saddened by what happened today, but it has also exposed many problems. Chen, do you remember the invitation I extended to you during last year’s World Cup?"
"I still believe you are the most suitable candidate to head FIFA’s Medical Committee. After an incident like this, we must make changes. So I sincerely hope you will come to FIFA, help me push this forward, and save more players."
During last year’s World Cup, he had invited Chen Yu to be the head of FIFA’s Medical Committee, but Chen Yu had refused.
Today, he was bringing up the old matter again.
The car the hospital had arranged for Chen Yu had already pulled up.
Chen Yu got into the car as if he hadn’t heard a word.
Just as he was about to tell the driver to go, Chen Yu stopped and rolled down the window.
Blatter’s eyes lit up, and he stared intently at Chen Yu.
’If you really care that much, then maybe you should organize fewer meaningless matches.’
But the words remained on the tip of his tongue; Chen Yu didn’t say them out loud.
’Every match involves enormous commercial interests. Even if he wanted to cancel them, the people behind the scenes wouldn’t allow it.’
So saying it would be useless, just a waste of breath.
However, after what had happened, Chen Yu still felt he had to do something.
If he hadn’t been there, tomorrow’s headline in the world of soccer would have been the news of Cameroon international Vivian Foe’s death from sudden cardiac arrest at the Confederations Cup.
"Tomorrow at ten in the morning. The hotel coffee shop. I’ll be waiting for you."
Chen Yu rolled up the window and signaled the driver to go.
It was already past one in the morning by the time he returned to the hotel.
But many of the United States Team players were still awake.
So Chen Yu decided to gather the players for a support group-style meeting, letting them talk and share their feelings.
After all that, it was nearly three in the morning.
Chen Yu had completely lost the urge to sleep, so he decided not to and opened his laptop.
First, he dealt with his usual work emails and sent a message to Lexi and the others to let them know he was safe.
With the internet and mobile networks, news spread faster and faster these days.
The live broadcast, all the media outlets... without even turning on the TV, Chen Yu knew it would be covered in footage of him running onto the field and diagnosing Vivian Foe. The news would surely reach the United States soon.
After finishing all that, he thought for a moment, then went online to search for related reports.
Chen Yu felt that Vivian Foe’s case was by no means an isolated incident.
He wouldn’t have known if he hadn’t looked, but what he found was shocking.
More recently, just last year in October ’02, Marcio dos Santos, a Brazilian striker for the Peruvian league’s Wanka Team, died of a sudden heart attack four hours after a match while celebrating with his wife.
Also last year, in Cyprus, a player named Michalis Michael, a striker for the Onisilos Sotiras Team, suddenly felt nauseous while running on the field, collapsed, and died shortly after.
In 2000, Ecuadorian player Mario Renoso died suddenly during a fitness test at the young age of 23.
There were cases in China, too. In October 2000, a young player named Cao Chunpeng died suddenly from acute myocarditis during a National Youth League match.
Going back further, there were many more.
In ’90, 25-year-old York City striker Dave Longhurst also died of a sudden heart attack during a league match.
The year before that, in August ’89, Nigerian player Okechukwu Okeke died of sudden heart failure during a World Cup qualifier.
The earliest case of sudden death on a soccer field could be traced all the way back to 1889, and incomplete statistics showed over eighty such cases to date.
Chen Yu also saw a report.
It said a medical team had conducted a study and found that in the early years, player deaths were mostly caused by trauma or inflammation resulting from illnesses like the common cold.
But starting from the 1970s and 80s, heart disease became the leading cause of sudden death among players.
They believed the most significant reason was that, compared to the past, both the intensity of matches and the level of player training had increased dramatically.
At the same time, however, the level of medical care had not kept pace.
Or perhaps, no one was studying these things—studying whether such high-intensity training could cause harm to the body.
The report also cited many examples.
For example, the Premier League once revered the use of a "magic sponge" to eliminate pain for players.
And in the 80s and 90s, 62 percent of team doctors in the Five Major Leagues did not have a medical license.
Cases of misdiagnosis were also rampant.
The brother of Liverpool star Xiaolei Redknapp had an ankle fracture that went untreated for a year, constantly misdiagnosed as a ligament strain. In the end, this talented player had to end his soccer career prematurely.
Even Xiaolei himself suffered greatly at the hands of incompetent doctors. In ’93, he tore his meniscus, and the doctor actually chose to remove the entire meniscus in his right knee. What’s more, he was sent back to the field just ten days after the surgery.
This botched treatment directly led to continuous knee injuries, completely dimming his professional career.
And besides heart disease, there were also performance-enhancing drugs.
For example, in Romania, due to rampant doping, four players died suddenly on the field in a 15-month period starting in ’99.
As Chen Yu read these reports, an inexplicable mix of sorrow and indignation filled his heart.
’I have to do something.’
’Not just because it’s necessary, but because I have the ability.’

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