Chapter 133: 0130 Guarding Dignity with Life

"The patient's illness isn't transmitted via the respiratory route; it's just that the ward smells rather strong, so we absolutely shouldn't wear masks." Zheng Ren said expressionlessly.

Everyone knows which ward has the strong smell.

Ordinary wards don't prohibit air circulation; although the number of patients plus their families is relatively high, making the air somewhat turbid, there is no strange odor.

The patients infected with tetanus bacilli come from rural areas, where sanitary conditions are somewhat worse than average. Moreover, the doors are tightly shut and windows cannot be opened, so the air pollution is much more severe than in ordinary wards.

Everyone originally thought that during the next round, others would wear masks, but not a single person did.

Only doctors can understand the subtle thoughts in between.

Patients' families will see doctors not wearing masks when making rounds in other wards, but wearing them when entering their own relatives' ward, which could possibly hurt some people's self-esteem.

Although this has nothing to do with treating the illness, doctors and nurses have sufficient reasons to wear masks while making rounds, but Zheng Ren, Chang Yue, and Su Yun all felt it was wrong, so they all unanimously entered without masks.

The patient's condition is stable; the opisthotonic posture is quite bizarre, and after administration of tetanus antitoxin it eased slightly, with the limbs fixed by restraining straps.

Zheng Ren then carefully observed the patient's limb circulation; if ischemic necrosis were to occur… things would become serious.

Every half hour, this being the sixth round, Chang Yue kept detailed records of each time's muscle tone and opisthotonus angle.

Although each change isn't much, looking at the whole record one can clearly sense that the patient's condition is progressing in a favorable direction.

That must be it; Zheng Ren finally relaxed.

After all, treating tetanus bacilli infection is just what's written in books; lacking personal experience, who knows what weird things might be encountered.

Perhaps the textbook is more reliable; Zheng Ren mused, wondering whether he should buy the new edition and read it again.

Back when he was in university, it was the fourth edition of surgery; now I don't know if it's been updated to the eighth or ninth edition. Looking back at it now, the gain would certainly be greater than before.

After leaving the tetanus patient's ward, Chang Yue greeted the family members caring for the patient inside, then gently closed the door, and everyone let out a sigh of relief.

Glancing at the time, it was nearly lunchtime, so Zheng Ren took the opportunity to lead everyone to check on the patients in the emergency ward.

Because the surgery was clean and neat, the patients recovered quickly.

Entering each ward, one is greeted with smiling faces.

As Zheng Ren, who especially has a keen sense in his heart, he knows that these smiles brimming with genuine feeling are mostly meant for Chang Yue.

Indeed, treatment is three parts, nursing seven; Chang Yue's psychological work is well done, earning recognition from patients and their families, and Zheng Ren isn't unhappy about it.

In one ward, a tall figure was folding blankets.

The ward's blankets are originally the nurses' responsibility to fold neatly each morning, but because there are many visiting relatives, they usually end up messy.

That person was earnestly folding the blankets; his hands seemed almost magical, and in a few motions he produced a neat, clean tofu‑block bundle.

The other two patients in this ward are postoperative cases of five days or more; after their IVs finish they sneak home, leaving the ward empty yet with a hint of tidiness.

"Fan Tian Shui." Chang Yue said.

"Hmm." The tall man turned around, saw it was Chang Yue, Zheng Ren and the others, and gave a simple, honest grin.

He is the patient with gangrenous appendicitis whom Chu Yan zhi picked up after Su Yun and Chang Yue drank eleven boxes of the big green sticks that day.

His recovery is truly rapid; despite suffering toxic shock from infection, he could be discharged in less than a week, and Zheng Ren felt moved.

This person's physical condition is probably not just ordinary good.

"Stay a few more days." Chang Yue said.

"No." Fan Tian Shui stood ramrod straight, like a gun, unbending, "I owe the hospital a lot of money; I'll repay it as soon as possible."

He spoke very sincerely and candidly.

"Chief Zheng, Fan Tian Shui requests self‑discharge. He's had no fever for the past four days, physical exam shows no abdominal positive signs. Dressing changes show no redness, swelling, or discharge, and the wound is healing well." Chang Yue routinely reported the patient's condition to Zheng Ren.

Although self‑discharge only requires a signature, Chang Yue still habitually gave the patient's status.

"Have you contacted that side?" Zheng Ren asked.

He recalled that this should have been the first thing Chang Yue asked him to do—find a job for this fellow.

At that time he contacted Xiao Liu, who found a security position at the Bu Family's company.

Although the earnings surely aren't much, it's enough to avoid starvation—better than drifting outside.

Observing Fan Tian Shui's conduct, he seems to be a retired serviceman; Zheng Ren has always held soldiers in enduring respect and reverence since childhood.

Fan Tian Shui indeed hasn't brought disgrace to the military; although Zheng Ren doesn't know what past story he carries, when penniless he drove himself to gangrenous appendicitis rather than do anything illegal.

He once guarded his country with his life; now he guards dignity with his life—this alone is enough to merit respect.

"I've contacted him; I persuaded him for two days before he agreed." Chang Yue smiled.

"Hmm, going there is fine too; didn't Director Pan settle the money matter?"

"Owing money must be repaid; that's only right." Fan Tian Shui said solemnly: "I also want to thank several of you for your care during this period."

"Don't mention it." Doctor Zheng waved his hand, preparing to give him a final check; if there really is no problem, self‑discharge can proceed.

Removing the stitches poses no difficulty; with thick needle and heavy thread, Fan Tian Shui estimates he could do it himself.

"Doctor Zheng, I'll send my contact information over as soon as possible." Fan Tian Shui stepped forward two paces, a vigorous aura bursting forth: "If anything comes up, feel free to contact me—I'm quite capable in a fight."

Looking at his earnest expression, Zheng Ren smiled.

"I'm telling the truth." Fan Tian Shui was a bit anxious, fearing Zheng Ren wouldn't believe him.

"I heard from Chang Yue that you'd rather lose money than slander those who framed you." Zheng Ren asked with a chuckle.

"We're all ordinary folk; back when we served, wasn't it just to defend home and country?" Fan Tian Shui scratched his head, a little embarrassed, "Doctor Zheng is a good person; in the unit, military medics basically all make it back alive. Once someone harms a medic, everyone is ready to fight to the death."

Zheng Ren suddenly recalled a battle decades ago in Nanjiang. The enemy raided the rear field hospital, and the soldiers, eyes red, literally plowed tens of square kilometers with artillery fire.

Fan Tian Shui stood at attention, gave a military salute to Zheng Ren and the others, then picked up his meager "luggage" and left the ward.

"Is Chief Zheng here?" Fan Tian Shui almost bumped into someone head‑on, nimbly stepped aside, gave an apologetic smile, and then left.