This Doctor Is Too Wealthy

A thought suddenly flashed through Du Heng’s mind. He then asked Lu Guangying, after a moment’s thought, ”Is this kind of abandonment common?”

Lu Guangying sighed heavily and slowly said, ”It depends on the hospital. In ours, we might encounter it two or three times a year, which is already quite a lot. After all, our hospital’s strength is a known factor, but its reputation in society isn’t very prominent.

But at the Provincial Women and Children’s Hospital and the Children’s Hospital of JZU Second Hospital, cases of abandoned children occur two or three times a week, sometimes even more. They’re already used to it there.

Cases like today, where parents directly abandon a child in the hall, aren’t considered too extreme; it often means the parents have been pushed to their limits.

For example, at the Provincial Women and Children’s Hospital, it’s not unheard of for parents to disappear without a trace while their newborns are still in the ICU.”

Du Heng pursed his lips, unsure what to say. No one wants to see such things happen. But every person and every family has their own unspeakable difficulties, and it’s not something one can scrutinize too closely.

Some people lead good lives, while others are merely struggling to survive.

”Then, Vice Dean Lu, I’ll trouble you to handle this child’s hospitalization procedures. I’ll go to the ward now to check on the child’s condition.” There’s no need to delve further into this topic, Du Heng thought. The more said, the worse I’ll feel, and it won’t help solve the actual problem at all.

Lu Guangying seemed to share this sentiment. He nodded slightly, then turned and left the office.

Du Heng left right after him and went straight to the ward.

Doctor Ma was not on outpatient service today, so the task of admitting this child had fallen directly to him.

Du Heng entered the ward and saw Doctor Ma bustling around the pediatric patient. He asked softly, ”Ma, how’s the child’s condition?”

Doctor Ma looked grave. He said solemnly, ”The pediatric patient has a high fever and chills, with a body temperature of 40°C. When she was first brought to the ward, she had a nosebleed, which we’ve just managed to control.

Based on the pediatric patient’s presentation so far, what the note said might be true. However, we still need to conduct further examinations to confirm the exact situation.”

Leukemia, or blood cancer... While treatment can now prolong a person’s life, the cost and the suffering endured by both the patient and their family are often enough to cause a breakdown. Even relatively affluent families might not be able to bear such a burden.

Doctor Ma was very anxious; this was his first time handling such a critically ill patient.

However, Du Heng wasn’t concerned about whether it was leukemia or not. Even if it was, it wouldn’t affect his treatment approach. So, from Doctor Ma’s lengthy explanation, the only truly useful information for Du Heng was in the first two points: high fever, chills, and a body temperature of 40°C. The rest, to him, was superfluous.

Du Heng quickly walked to the pediatric patient’s bedside and began his own physical examination. The pediatric patient was somewhat listless and not very cooperative, which made his examination more difficult.

Fortunately, Doctor Ma was there to assist. With his help, Du Heng’s examination proceeded much more smoothly.

Vexing heat in the palms, soles, and chest; heart palpitations so strong they seemed to shake her clothes; profuse sweating, as if in a downpour; and dull, unfocused eyes. These glaringly obvious signs alone made Du Heng’s heart sink.

He then examined the pediatric patient’s tongue. Its color was akin to a pig’s kidney—a dark, blackish-purple—and it was bare, without any coating. The entire surface of the tongue was extremely dry, devoid of any moisture or luster.

Du Heng took a moment to steady himself, his expression growing even more serious and cautious. With such symptoms, the pediatric patient was already at the Gates of Hell.

He reached out to take the pediatric patient’s pulse. It was floating, wiry, and forceful, beating seven times or more per breath. A rapid heartbeat, a racing pulse—so fast it seemed to have no upper limit. Such a speed was definitely an extreme overload for the heart.

Du Heng straightened up, looked at the little girl on the sickbed, and let out a long breath. This condition doesn’t require complex syndrome differentiation. It’s a very clear case of dual depletion of qi and yin—a fatal condition. What defines a fatal condition? Thinking about this, Du Heng couldn’t help but swallow hard. To date, he had encountered only three cases of such severe, fatal conditions. One hadn’t made it; two had been saved. The odds might sound decent, but the two who were saved had fatal conditions stemming from insufficient cardiopulmonary function. That was very different from this little girl’s dual depletion of qi and yin. Still, Du Heng had a few ideas. He wasn’t ready to give up.

According to the characteristics of leukemia as defined by Western medicine, combined with the pediatric patient’s current condition—especially the high fever and massive hemorrhage—it aligned well with the characteristics of blood-related disorders in traditional Chinese medicine.

Du Heng’s mind raced, rapidly sifting through and matching relevant reference materials. In no time, he had formulated a preliminary treatment framework. But one question remained: could she be saved? He had once told someone from the Provincial Tumor Hospital, ”Where there is stomach qi, there is life; where stomach qi is absent, there is death.” And this was a fundamental prerequisite in traditional Chinese medicine when treating critical and severe illnesses.

Du Heng had considered many possibilities in his mind. To an observer, however, it merely looked as though he had straightened up, let out a long breath, and then bent down once more to continue the examination.