I'm really an intern

Chapter 227 If There Really Are Gods

At noon, the dormitory of Oriental Medical University was silent.

Students who are still in the stage of learning basic knowledge are recharging their batteries and waiting for the afternoon class.

The young doctors who have already practiced take the time to rest and prepare for the work in the afternoon.

Little A and little B went to bed and lay dead as expected.

While playing games, Little C glanced at Lin Ke'an who was quietly reading the literature behind him, and didn't speak, but the sound of pressing the keyboard was a little softer.

They are all used to it.

A master of learning is not developed in a day.

but day after day, year after year

Zhang Tianyang didn't sleep either.

The three roommates sleep, those who play games play games, and those who fall in love fall in love.

He just sat at the desk, propped his head on his arms, closed his eyes and meditated.

But the mind is completely immersed in the system.

Various patients with difficult lumbar punctures were simulated by the system and appeared in front of him in line waiting to be operated.

The old lady's condition was indeed critical, which put a lot of pressure on him.

The drainage tube on the top of the head has been kept up for ten days, and if it continues to be kept, the record of infection is very, very high.

Once complicated by intracranial infection, the condition of the old lady will deteriorate rapidly.

But the waist wear couldn't be worn out.

He couldn't even tell whether it was really not worn properly, or if there was a blood clot blocking the passage, which wasn't there in the first place.

But try hard anyway.

After all, if he fails again this afternoon, he will be prescribed anticoagulants.

For the old lady with subarachnoid hemorrhage, this is a life-threatening behavior.

If there is another way, no one wants to gamble.

At 15:[-] in the afternoon, Zhang Tianyang arrived at the internal medicine building [-] minutes earlier than the scheduled time.

It's still time to sleep, the elevator is far less crowded than when going to work in the morning and leaving get off work at noon.

The same goes for the ward.

In the hall where the Department of Neurology just entered, the family members who crowded here in the morning to wait for the results, go through hospitalization, and visit patients all disappeared, perhaps looking for a place to sleep somewhere.

The two nurses in the nurse's station were busy.

There was only one old man, pacing back and forth somewhat crampedly, and finally walked to the nurse's station.

"Well, waste the big sister's time."

"Excuse me, is Dr. Song here?"

The old man was referring to the ICU ward blocked by white walls and thick curtains.

Zhang Tianyang paused slightly and stopped.

In the ICU ward, there is only Director Song Changkong and a doctor surnamed Song.

At this point in time, if you come to see Dr. Song, it must be the family members of the old lady in bed 76, right?

Zhang Tianyang pretended to be playing with his mobile phone with his head down, and from the corner of his eye, he paid attention to this old man who was probably the old lady's family member.

The little nurse in the nurse's station explained to the old man in a soft voice, "It's not time for work yet, you can come back later, they will be here at three o'clock."

The old man was still a little embarrassed, "But, Doctor Song asked me to come at 02:30."

"Then wait for 02:30." The little nurse pointed to the time beside her, "It's only [-]:[-], so wait a little longer."

"Eh, yes, yes."

The old man hurriedly agreed, for fear of disturbing the work of the two little nurses, he walked aside at every step.

No young man approached him to talk to him, or offer him water, and he seemed to have come alone.

Thinking of what Lin Lin revealed at noon about the rumor that the old lady's family lost their son, Zhang Tianyang felt more and more that this old man should be the old lady's family.

It looks normal.

Be reasonable.

There should be no problem with the conversation later.

Just be afraid, the family members are unreasonable, so the doctor doesn't even give the old lady a chance to fight for her life.

He felt at ease, and just about to go inside, he saw the old man pacing for a while from the corner of his eye, and walked to the side of the bulletin board.

On the old man's waist was a black canvas bag that looked a bit old.

He looked up for a while, then took out a stack of A4 papers and a pen from his bag.

The old ladies in the ICU ward are all 76 years old, and the old man should be older.

His thin hands and arms are covered with brown age spots of different shades.

After all, I am getting old, and the hand holding the pen can be visibly trembling.

But he still held the pen stubbornly, then spread out the stack of A4 papers, picked them up one by one and compared them with the text on the bulletin board.

Zhang Tianyang quietly took two steps closer.

On the bulletin board, printed is a popular science with pictures and texts, "Key Points of Home Care for Stroke Patients".

In the hands of the old man, half of the entire stack of A4 paper was already covered with dense handwriting.

Finally, he compared the handwriting on the bulletin board to the paragraph he had copied.

Zhang Tianyang seemed to see a moment of joy on his face.

Then, some trembling pen tips landed on the paper.

One stroke, one stroke, the old man struggled to write.

But still stubbornly copied.

Zhang Tianyang couldn't help it suddenly.

A few steps forward, "These can be photographed with a mobile phone or printed out. If you don't know how, I can help you."

The old man was a little dazed and waved his hands awkwardly.

"No, no, I just want to copy it myself."

Fearing that Zhang Tianyang would think he was refusing, he even took out his mobile phone to show him.

"Old man, I can use my mobile phone."

"However, if it is photographed, I will copy it and remember it."

"A good memory is not as good as a bad pen!"

As the old man talked, his old face was wrinkled with a smile.

"My wife will come out in a few days, and I have to take care of her, old man!"

Does he really not know the old lady's condition?

There are so many consent forms, so many critical illness notifications, and so many rescue records in the medical record, would he not know it?

But he still copied these things stroke by stroke.

I still firmly believe that my wife will get better and will need his care.

Zhang Tianyang didn't know what to say for a moment, but he swallowed the words again.

He could only find the little nurse at the nurse's station and borrow a chair to make it easier for the old man to copy.

When bypassing the nurse's station again and passing through the iron gate separating the ward and the office area, Zhang Tianyang glanced back.

The old man sat on the chair for a while, stretching his head to read the text on the bulletin board.

But perhaps because he thought he couldn't see clearly, he stood up again, lying on the glass of the bulletin board, and continued to stroke.

"Boom!"

The iron gate closed behind him.

The conversation went smoothly as expected.

Zhang Tianyang changed into a white coat, put on a mask and hat, and followed behind the attending doctor and Song Changkong, listening silently without any sense of presence, without the old man recognizing him.

Silently listening to the two white coats explain the critical situation of the old lady to the old man in detail.

Silently listening to the old man with tears in his eyes, he said that he knew.

Silently watching the old man pinch the tip of the pen with slightly trembling hands, and sign his name on the consent form.

That serious look is like him lying in front of the glass of the bulletin board, copying down the hope in his heart stroke by stroke.

Then, the conversation is over and the waist piercing is ready.

When standing in front of the old lady's bed and ready to start posing, Zhang Tianyang involuntarily pinched his breastplate.

Inside the badge was a golden amulet given to him by Lin Lin when he was still in the nephrology department.

Zhang Tianyang has never believed in ghosts and gods.

But at this moment, he had inexplicable expectations.

The fingertips touched the cold touch of the small golden sign.

He prayed silently in his heart.

"If there really are gods.

If you are really lucky.

So can you.

Apparition once. "

　An'an has a fever, buzzing!

　　

　

(End of this chapter)