Yang Zimei opened the door to the ward and saw Song Xuanzheng, wearing a light blue hospital gown, standing in front of the window with his back to the door.
It had only been a week since we last saw him, and he seemed to have lost a lot of weight, making the hospital gown look a bit empty.
The hair that was exposed to the sun showed a little bit of gray.
Seeing his back, Yang Zimei felt sad, and a layer of mist filled his eyes.
"Mr. Song——"
Yang Zimei stepped forward and called softly.
Song Xuan turned around...
His originally gentle face became visibly thin, with sunken eye sockets, stubble growing out, and a haggard look on his face.
"I am coming."
Yang Zimei's voice was choked with sobs.
Song Xuan smiled slightly at her, the smile was a bit broken and forced, "Oh, Xiaomei, you're here. Thank you for your hard work. Sit down quickly."
Yang Zimei sat down on the chair next to her.
Song Xuan sat on the bed opposite, looked at her, and asked softly, "Have you eaten?"
"I'm not hungry."
Yang Zimei shook his head, "Mr. Song, are you going to undergo chemotherapy?"
"The doctor said there is no need for it at the moment. He is doing red blood cell activation treatment. If it can be successful, it will be easy to recover. If not..."
Song Xuan said sadly, "It may start to get worse in three months."
"Mr. Song, I will not let your condition worsen. If you believe me and cooperate with my treatment, you should be able to activate your red blood cells in a month."
That day, thunder destroyed the Taoist temple, and Yang Zimei also found an ancient medical book in the ruins, which contained acupuncture methods for treating sepsis.
Yang Zimei studied it all night and conducted experiments with white mice for several days. She found that the effect was very good. Therefore, she had the confidence to come to Song Xuan.
Looking at her firm eyes, Song Xuan nodded unconsciously, "I believe you! Zimei, I don't want to stay in the hospital anymore. I want you to treat me specifically."
"Why? I'm still thinking about combining acupuncture with the hospital's treatment." After all, there has been no real clinical trial, it was only tested on mice, and it was related to Song Xuan's life, but Yang Zimei didn't have that much confidence.
"It's impossible for the hospital to let you participate in the treatment cooperation. I can only choose one of them. I really don't feel any effect from the treatment these days. I only feel despair every day."
Song Xuan looked at her and said, "This kind of despair makes me sleepless day and night, and I really want to die. Xiaomei, Luo Bai's condition was so serious that day, even if he was sent to the hospital, he would die, but you only used a few injections to save him."
I have leukemia. Letting the hospital treat me will only extend my pain infinitely. I will watch the same terminally ill patients around me die one by one. The psychological pressure is really unbearable. I might as well just talk to you quietly.
Treatment, I leave my fate to you. If the treatment really fails, I also believe that you can let me die with dignity, instead of losing all my hair, covering my face with dark spots, and becoming less human and ghost-like.
Die like a ghost..."
Listening to his words, Yang Zimei's heart was broken.
Yes, unlimited chemotherapy brings only pain but not much hope for terminally ill patients.
Song Xuan's current condition has not worsened. His few silver needles, combined with the marrow cleansing vitality, should be able to activate his red blood cells that died due to radiation.
Lin Qingmei will give birth in three months, and she must make sure he is healthy before then, and cannot let the little fat boy face the tragic scene of his father as soon as he is born.