Home Sports Medicine Master System Chapter 462 - 398: Too Many Matches

Sports Medicine Master System

Chapter 462 - 398: Too Many Matches
  • Prev Chapter
  • Next Chapter
  • Background
    Font family
    Font size
    Line height
    New Read mode
    Reading width
    No line breaks
    Translate & Text to Speech
    New Translate

Chapter 462: Chapter 398: Too Many Matches

The match was still going on.

But on the field, the players from both the Cameroon and United States teams had their minds elsewhere.

The moment Vivian Foe collapsed was terrifying. One moment, he’s your teammate—the one you were just excitedly discussing where to celebrate after the match, the one you were complaining with about the blind referee and the opponent’s dirty tackles. He’s your roommate, the one who couldn’t sleep late at night and shared stories about how his rambunctious seven-year-old son was driving him crazy, how his wife was always complaining that he never spent time with her. The next moment, he suddenly collapses beside you and is rushed off the field on a stretcher.

The psychological impact of that scene was simply immense.

Lucen Metomo, the first to see Vivian Foe fall, sat on the bench with his face in his hands, crying uncontrollably.

His teammates around him were all silent.

Some had red, tear-filled eyes.

Others anxiously bit their nails, their legs shaking uncontrollably.

Cameroon’s coach, Frank Schaefer, no longer concerned with a match whose outcome wouldn’t affect the group standings, came to the sideline. He grabbed Metomo’s shoulders, comforting him as best he could, telling him it wasn’t his fault, that he didn’t need to blame himself, that it was just an accident.

"Coach, you don’t understand! It’s all my fault, all my fault!"

Metomo looked up, his face a mess from crying, and mumbled, "Near the end of the first half, during a defensive play, I noticed something was wrong with him. I even asked him what was the matter. He said it was nothing, just that he was a little out of breath."

"Damn it, if I had just done something then, like ask Servet to check on him, he might have been okay."

"It’s all my fault, Coach. His little girl is only two months old! Just yesterday, he told me he saw a really beautiful doll in the gift shop and was planning to buy it after the match today to take back to Laila. Oh God, I’m a monster."

He began to frantically beat his own head.

Schaefer and the teammates beside him quickly restrained him.

Schaefer’s eyes were also red and moist. He repeated, "Mark will be fine. Chen is here. He’s the best doctor in the world. He can definitely save Mark."

He said it over and over, as if trying to convince himself as well.

Earlier, as Vivian Foe was being loaded into the ambulance, he had pulled aside a doctor from the stadium’s medical team and asked what was wrong. The doctor had explained the consequences of a ruptured aortic sinus aneurysm, and only then did Schaefer understand the disease Vivian Foe was suffering from and just how perilous it was.

The only thing he could do now was pray that Chen Yu could save Vivian Foe.

But deep down, Schaefer knew how slim that hope was.

After all, Chen Yu was just an orthopedic surgeon.

Just then, the Cameroon Team scored a goal on the field.

But no one celebrated. The forward who scored, Pius Endefi, dropped to his knees and burst into tears right after the goal.

Perhaps if Vivian Foe had been on the field, he would have been the one to deliver that brilliant pass.

A sparse, scattered applause rose from the stands.

The spectators were also in shock. No one cared about the outcome of the match anymore. They were more concerned about Vivian Foe’s condition.

Many Cameroon fans prayed silently, dreading any bad news.

But right up until the end of the match, the event organizers released no new information.

There was no post-match press conference. The reporters had already bolted, all of them heading to the nearby Lyon Medical Center.

Schaefer didn’t bother with the press conference either. As soon as the match ended, he hurriedly took the entire team to the hospital.

"Brui, let’s go too," team leader August Martin said in a low voice as he tugged on Alina’s arm.

Alina nodded. He saw Reina looking at him, clearly wanting to go as well.

As his teammates, the Cameroon players blamed themselves.

But as his opponents, could the United States Team players have a clear conscience?

Reina was a midfielder. He had tangled with Vivian Foe plenty in the first half—tackles, shoves. He couldn’t help but wonder, ’Could one of my own actions have been too forceful, causing him to ultimately collapse?’

’If Vivian Foe actually dies from this, I might be a murderer!’

This feeling hung over the United States Team players. How could they possibly be in good spirits?

Alina thought for a moment, then said, "Claudio, you come with me to the hospital. Everyone else, go back to the hotel and wait for news."

He then added with a serious expression, "Everyone, we don’t know anything right now. I need you all to stay calm and not overthink it. You have to believe in Chen. He’s the best doctor. He can definitely save Foe."

He said that, but Alina was panicking inside too.

He had never seen Chen Yu so anxious.

The Chen Yu he knew was always calm and composed, no matter the situation, even when faced with a torn ligament or a broken bone.

This could only mean that Vivian Foe was in grave danger.

The three of them borrowed a car and hurried to the medical center.

When they arrived, a surging crowd of reporters had already blocked the emergency entrance.

There were also some fans who had come on their own, gathered outside the emergency center, praying silently for Vivian Foe.

The event organizers and officials from FIFA were also arriving one after another.

The scene was chaotic, with a TV news helicopter circling overhead.

Alina struggled to push through the crowd of reporters, ignoring their questions as he made his way into the emergency center.

The corridor in front of the emergency operating rooms on the second floor was packed with people.

At the far end, the red light for Operating Room 2 was on.

"Where’s Chen?" Martin looked around but didn’t see any sign of Chen Yu.

After asking around, the three learned that Chen Yu had actually gone into the operating room—and was the lead surgeon.

"Isn’t he an orthopedic surgeon?" Alina asked, confused.

Up ahead, a doctor from the hospital was explaining Vivian Foe’s condition to Schaefer and a FIFA official.

"I have to be frank, the surgical risk is extremely high. The patient could die at any moment."

The doctor’s words sent a chill of fear through everyone present.

He went on to explain the details of a ruptured aortic sinus aneurysm, then perhaps realizing his words were too frightening, added, "Fortunately, he was brought to the hospital very quickly. And in the ambulance, after he unexpectedly suffered a cardiac tamponade, Chen also administered proper treatment immediately. So there is still hope."

Finally, he didn’t forget to pull everyone aside and ask who would be signing as the representative.

A pile of surgical consent forms still needed to be signed.

Although in Europe, in extremely urgent situations, a doctor’s diagnosis and the principle of prioritizing life take precedence, this was an incredibly high-risk surgery on a famous member of Cameroon’s National Team.

Chen Yu had a big reputation and could afford to not fear the risk, but the hospital couldn’t.

Even if the law later found them not liable, they were still afraid.

The people present looked at each other; no one dared to act as representative. Schaefer said he had already contacted Foe’s wife in the United Kingdom, and she was on her way with people from the Manchester City Club. They would arrive soon.

Alina quietly stepped away from the crowd.

From that whole conversation, he took away only one thing: Vivian Foe’s condition was critical, and he could die at any moment.

The three found a quiet corner to sit and wait. Amid the silence, Reina couldn’t help but complain, "It’s possible he was just exhausted."

Seeing the other two look at him, Reina continued his complaint. "The league season is already long enough."

For someone like him in the Premier League, it starts in August and runs until May of the next year.

In between, there are the Alliance Cup and the FA Cup tournaments.

He played for a weaker team. The stronger teams might also have the Community Shield, UEFA, and Champions League.

And that’s not even counting the National Team matches.

Finally, at the end of the year, just when the league season is over, you have to play some meaningless friendlies.

"There are club matches and National Team matches. We get no time to rest. How can we not get injured?" Last year, after the World Cup, he had mostly recovered with Chen Yu’s help. But from the start of this league season to today, he was once again riddled with minor injuries.

Alina sighed. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but swallowed his words.

He was well aware of the situation.

Take this Confederations Cup. If it were really meaningful and valuable, would Italy have withdrawn? Would Brazil and Argentina have sent their B-teams?

In the end, it was all for commercial interests, for those FIFA officials, and for Blatter’s personal reputation and legacy.

"Don’t, Claudio. What’s happened has happened, and there are many things we can’t do anything about," Martin said, trying to console him.

The clubs need results, and the national Football Associations need results. A lot of the time, the players’ opinions no longer matter.

Reina snorted softly and fell silent.

During the long wait, more people kept arriving.

People from the Cameroon embassy, Vivian Foe’s family, the Manchester City Club.

Finally, Blatter, who had been in Paris, also rushed to the hospital.

Not long after he arrived, the red light of the operating room finally went out.

Chen Yu was the first to push the door open and walk out.

Following behind him was Professor Henderson, the attending physician of cardiology at the Lyon Medical Center.

Instantly, everyone in the hallway surged forward.

"Everyone, be quiet!"

Chen Yu waved his hand, silencing the crowd.

His gaze swept over everyone in the hallway before stopping on a mother and son.

The boy wasn’t very old, maybe eight or nine. His mother gripped his shoulders nervously, looking at Chen Yu with dread.

A child that age obviously understood everything. His eyes were frantic with anxiety and fear.

"Don’t worry. Your father’s surgery was a success. He’s going to be okay," Chen Yu said with a smile, walking over and ruffling the boy’s hair.

Vivian Foe’s wife instantly went weak, nearly collapsing to the floor.

Some of the surrounding Cameroon players couldn’t help but cheer.

"Chen, thank you."

"Thank you!"

In an instant, a crowd of people pushed forward.

Schaefer was the first to embrace Chen Yu, holding on for a long time.

Countless hands reached out to express their gratitude.

Those who couldn’t get close applauded and cheered.

The boy, caught in the crowd, watched everything unfold in a daze.

Chen Yu wanted to ask his name, but there was no chance.

"Chen, thank you. It was Foe’s good fortune that you happened to be on the sidelines." Blatter also pushed through the crowd, grabbing Chen Yu’s hand and not letting go.

The Confederations Cup was a tournament he had personally championed during his tenure.

If Vivian Foe hadn’t been saved today, if he had died, it would have been a massive blow to the Confederations Cup.

Chen Yu still didn’t have a good impression of Blatter. He gave a simple nod and tried to pull his hand away.

Unexpectedly, Blatter didn’t let go. "Chen, can we talk for a moment?" he asked.

Chen Yu forcefully pulled his hand free and shook his head. "Sorry, I just finished surgery. I’m exhausted."

With that, he pushed through the crowd to leave.

He had only taken two steps when he heard someone call his name.

He turned to see it was Vivian Foe’s son, craning his neck and waving his hand, asking for Chen Yu’s name.

Chen Yu waved back at him, pushed through the crowd, and came over to Alina and the other two.

"He should be fine."

Chen Yu first gave the three of them the good news, then said, "Bruce, you go back to the hotel first. Gather all the players and tell them the situation. Most importantly, tell them that Foe’s condition had nothing to do with them."

"I still have some things to take care of here. When I get back to the hotel tonight, if they’re not asleep, I’ll talk with them."

An incident like this, happening so close, is a huge psychological shock for anyone.

Chen Yu was also worried that the players on the United States Team might be left with some psychological trauma.

Alina opened his mouth. He had so much he wanted to say, but for a moment, he didn’t know where to start. He just hugged Chen Yu, then left with Reina and Martin.

Use arrow keys (or A / D) to PREV/NEXT chapter