Chapter 163: 0160 White……Small Pills

"Doctor, is Doctor Fang there?" a tall man asked politely.

Judging by his accent, he's probably from the nearby suburbs.

He was tall and sturdy, with a slightly stooped waist, a weather-beaten face, and covered in dirt.

"We don't have a doctor surnamed Fang here," Zheng Ren said.

"……" Both men fell into confusion.

They were somewhat timid, especially when facing a doctor in a white coat, making it even more obvious—they could hardly speak coherently.

Perhaps in their eyes, a doctor in a white coat wasn't an angel, and that kind of foreign thing was also unfamiliar to them.

All doctors were formidable figures who could decide whether people stayed in the living world or went to the underworld, so under this simple mindset, they naturally feared doctors.

Perhaps, describing it as awe would be more accurate.

Seeing their lips tremble slightly yet unable to utter a word, Zheng Ren's face immediately showed a gentle smile: "Come in and speak, don't be polite. Who sent you here?"

The two men followed Zheng Ren into the office.

The tidy, bright office made them even more nervous, afraid they would mess it up or dirty it.

Zheng Ren asked again, and the tall man finally said: "Doctor Zhou from Orthopedics sent us, saying we should look for Doctor Fang to see a doctor."

The answer was all over the place, and Zheng Ren still got no clue. However, Doctor Zhou from Orthopedics said……

Zheng Ren picked up the phone and dialed.

"Brother Zhou, this is Zheng Ren."

"Yes, two patients, saying they came to find Doctor Fang."

"Oh oh, I see. What illness?"

After a brief exchange, Zheng Ren hung up the phone, laughing and crying at the same time.

It turned out Doctor Zhou had sent them to find Zheng Ren; perhaps because they were nervous, they misunderstood Doctor Zheng as Doctor Fang.

Zheng Ren muttered to himself, wondering if the two characters "zheng" and "fang" could be swapped.

But when patients come to the hospital, they are usually tense—nervous about their own illness and in awe of the hospital, for various reasons.

So mishearing and misremembering things is quite common, not a big deal.

"Have a seat, Doctor Zhou sent you to see me. I'm Zheng Ren, surnamed Zheng." Zheng Ren tried to continue soothing the two men's tension with a gentle smile, but the effect……was still not obvious.

"I heard Doctor Zhou say it's early-stage avascular necrosis of the femoral head? Which one of you is the patient?" Zheng Ren got straight to the point.

"Me," the shorter man said, "Since I started staying indoors for winter, my hip bone hurts. It's fine if I don't move, but moving makes it worse—a piercing pain."

"Do you have the images?" Zheng Ren already knew the patient's condition from the system panel in the upper right of his view, but he still needed to look at the images and ask the patient—this was a hospital, and Zheng Ren didn't want to give the impression of being a witch doctor.

"Yes, yes." The tall man took out a roll of plastic bag, opened it, and carefully removed several sheets of film.

Stored like this again, Zheng Ren felt somewhat helpless.

The film should best be stored in a cool place, laid flat.

Rolled up like this, it's easy to store and retrieve, but putting it on the film viewer to look at the images is extremely difficult.

Zheng Ren didn't say these things to the two men, since they were already nervous; if he also pointed out their mistakes, taking the medical history afterward would probably be difficult.

"Did it hurt before?" Zheng Ren asked.

"No, it started only when I began staying indoors for winter."

"Mao dong" is an old saying from the Northeast; when it's freezing outside in winter, one can only stay indoors "catting," hence the term mao dong.

Zheng Ren looked at the images; he had a slight understanding of the orthopedics' nuclear magnetic resonance, but not much—just enough to get a general idea.

There were signs of avascular necrosis of the femoral head, but it wasn't severe.

Manager Zhou of Orthopedics said that this early-stage avascular necrosis of the femoral head doesn't require surgery; if hip replacement were considered, the cost would be too high for the patient to bear, and second, it's completely unnecessary—he had just returned from further training, and hospitals in the capital treat such cases with intervention.

Because Zheng Ren had performed two interventional hemostasis treatments for pelvic fractures, Manager Zhou had an impression of him.

For related patients who didn't need further handling, they were sent over to let Zheng Ren consult.

"Have you suffered any trauma?"

"No."

"Do you have a habit of standing on your left leg alone?"

"No."

"Then have you taken any medicine?"

"No."

"No, brother, during the busy farming season, you didn't take those little white pills, did you?" The tall man immediately corrected.

"Little white pills?" Zheng Ren quickly had an answer in mind.

"Yeah, but what does that little pill have to do with the leg pain?" the shorter man said.

"Is it dexamethasone?" Zheng Ren asked right away.

"……"

"……"

Geo……what sai……what misong, what the heck is that?

"Do you still have those little white pills at home?" Zheng Ren pressed.

Seeing Zheng Ren's solemn expression, the two grew a little fearful, their hands involuntarily trembling—could those little white pills be some kind of poison?

Zheng Ren immediately realized he had been too hasty; this would impose heavy psychological pressure on them.

After easing the mood a bit, Zheng Ren sat down nonchalantly, opened the workstation on his computer, and said: "It's nothing, just a minor issue. Give your family a call and ask what those little white pills are."

"Eh." The tall man indeed relaxed a bit, picked up his phone, and started calling home.

A few minutes later, he looked at Zheng Ren with admiration.

"Doctor Zheng, you're truly a divine doctor—those little white pills are dexamethasone."

Zheng Ren did not feel delighted by a single praise of being a divine doctor; he felt mostly helpless.

"Why are you taking dexamethasone?" Zheng Ren asked.

"During busy farming season I get especially tired every day; I heard from fellow villagers that if I take those little white pills, I won't feel tired." The short man answered somewhat tensely: "Taking them works great, I feel especially energetic, and the next day I have plenty of vigor for work."

Zheng Ren nodded, pondering the treatment plan.

Seeing Zheng Ren silent, the short man asked tensely: "Doctor Zheng, it couldn't be some fatal disease, could it? Bone cancer? If it's bone cancer, I won't get treatment."

"No, you won't die." Zheng Ren answered bluntly, directly, even somewhat rudely.

But at this moment, such an answer can give the patient full confidence.

Upon hearing it wasn't bone cancer, the short man's expression immediately relaxed.

"That quack in the village told me I had bone cancer; I'll beat him to death when I go back." He and the tall man laughed and joked, in high spirits.

"It's not bone cancer, but it's still troublesome." Zheng Ren said: "It's avascular necrosis of the femoral head."

"What is... femoral head... what kind of death?"

"It's just that the blood supply to your hip bone shaft is cut off, with many blood vessels blocked. It's like farming: if you don't water the field, can the crops still grow?" Zheng Ren explained in as plain language as possible.

Now the short man understood.

"To treat it, first you cannot take those little white pills." Zheng Ren said firmly: "Then you need surgery."

"How much will it cost?"