Chapter 2296: 2218 Leaking Pulse

"Drink a little less; drinking too much harms the body." Zheng Ren said with a smile.

"Uh..." The man forgot to cry, staring blankly at Zheng Ren.

"Which hospital is your elderly family member hospitalized in, and what was the final diagnosis?" Zheng Ren asked again.

Although the Big Pig Trotter is formidable, it cannot grant him the ability to view the System Panel from a distance, nor can it let him see the patient's condition through the patient's relatives.

The key information Zheng Ren obtained was merely that the patient is old; if that were truly the case, there would be nothing he could do.

Just like Cui Lao, whose organs have all aged, this is not something a doctor can diagnose or treat. It's a natural law; no one can do anything about it.

"Great joy and great sorrow, plus drinking, inflict significant harm on the body." Zheng Ren crouched beside the man, smiling: "How did the doctor diagnose it? Tell me; perhaps there is a way."

"You are..."

"I'm also a doctor; meeting by chance is fate, so I'll just ask casually." Zheng Ren laughed, "Just consider it venting. If you tell others, they won't understand."

The man sighed and said, "I'm from out of town; my father's illness..."

Speaking, he paused for a moment.

Zheng Ren knew many patients' relatives couldn't utter overly professional medical terms; when doctors explained the condition, they could grasp how serious it was. But if one insisted on pinning down exactly what it was, the likelihood really wasn't high.

The man before him probably couldn't recall the specific disease name.

"Brain? Heart? Liver? Kidneys?" Zheng Ren asked.

"Heart." The man said, "When I was young, my father often had shortness of breath; everyone thought it was a lung problem, didn't think much of it, and resting a bit would make it better."

"Any other problems?"

"Uh... the lower limbs swell. When I was young, his legs weren't badly swollen; my father, after returning from the fields each day, would lie on the kang and put his legs on the quilt stack. Anyway, it didn't delay anything; after a while it would be fine, and no one paid attention."

Shortness of breath and bilateral lower limb edema, with onset in youth, the disease course can be quite long. Zheng Ren felt it a bit tricky, after all, with a long disease course, the patient's heart likely has little room for treatment left.

Moreover, Zheng Ren had a glimmer of hope: if it were illness rather than true old age, then it could be tried.

"Zheng Ren, Heizi is too thirsty; may I give it a drink?" Xie Yiren asked softly.

"Oh, boss lady, give me a bottle of 2.5 liang of strong liquor." Zheng Ren said to the boss lady.

"Sure." The boss lady eyed Zheng Ren and, behind him, Xie Yiren and Heizi suspiciously, turned and grabbed a bottle of strong liquor, asking, "Want some side dishes?"

"Any meat will do, okay?" Zheng Ren said, turning to look at Heizi.

Heizi had saliva hanging from the corner of his mouth, drawing out a strand three to five centimeters long.

Sigh, Heizi was led astray by Su Yun.

"Drinking a little less is no problem," Zheng Ren comforted himself. The man looked at the two strange young men and women and a black disabled dog before him, feeling absurd.

When the meat arrived, Zheng Ren portioned out half for the man, smiling: "Eat something before drinking; drinking on an empty stomach hurts the body."

"Oh, oh." The man stared in disbelief as Xie Yiren found a disposable bowl and poured a little less than half a bottle of liquor for Heizi. Heizi stuck out his tongue and licked the liquor into his mouth at a lightning speed.

"What do they do? Are they really doctors?" The man felt somewhat dazed.

"Then what happened? Is your grandfather's age making the symptoms worse?" Zheng Ren continued asking.

"Well, it started with discomfort after a day's farm work. Later, even slight activity caused palpitations and shortness of breath. The whole body lacked strength; at night he'd wake up gasping, drenched in sweat."

"Then what?"

"Back home we had an old Chinese doctor who came from the south years ago; he took my father's pulse and said it was serious. But in that small place, many medicines aren't available, so he urged us to come to the capital to seek treatment promptly." The man said, sighing.

He snapped apart the disposable chopsticks, didn't stand on ceremony, ate two bites of meat, and took a gulp of liquor.

"What did the old Chinese doctor say?"

"He said it was a leaking pulse, something like that; I can remember."

Leaking pulse is also called sparrow-peck pulse; Zheng Ren still knows this. In school, during a half-semester elective on traditional Chinese medicine, after leaking pulse came the note that it is perhaps often seen in patients with rapidly changing, severe, critical conditions.

This is the TCM term; in Western medicine it's called alternating pulse, referring to a pathological phenomenon where the pulse rhythm is normal but the pulse strength alternates weakly and strongly, most evident when sitting.

Alternating pulse or leaking pulse relates to alternating strength of ventricular contraction, often indicating left ventricular dysfunction. The occurrence of alternating pulse suggests myocardial injury and failure, strong evidence of covert heart failure.

Heart failure—this matches the earlier symptoms of shortness of breath and fatigue. Zheng Ren, like piecing together a puzzle, gradually clarified the patient's condition.

"That's serious; have you come to the capital before for treatment?" Zheng Ren asked.

"No." The man said glumly, "I'm still young; we have three older brothers at home, and my father said to save some money to find wives for us, with no money for medical care. Desperate, he even said he'd rather die himself."

"..." Zheng Ren sighed.

"Isn't he just old? In the family I have the final say, so I brought him to the capital. Anyway, he kept cursing along the way, saying I'm wasteful. He's over seventy; if he's going to die, let him die—why spend this money? Doctor, you say, can I avoid spending it? If it can be treated, I'd sell the house and land to do it."

"Where did you go for treatment?"

"Fuwai Hospital; registration is a real hassle." The man took another sip of liquor, treating his pent-up frustration as a snack, "The doctor said now only a heart transplant is possible, with no better alternative."

"That serious." Zheng Ren frowned, "Any imaging?"

"Yes, at the hospital." The man said anxiously, "My father refuses to take any medicine; when hooked up to an IV, he pulls the tube out himself. You say... sigh..."

He let out a long sigh.

"What are you planning to do?"

"I asked the doctor; he said a heart transplant would cost several hundred thousand and require waiting for a donor. This is a dead-end frustration, so I came out for a drink and to vent." The man looked at Zheng Ren, his mood slightly improved, "Little brother... Doctor, thank you."

"You're welcome." Zheng Ren smiled.

"Saying it out makes my chest feel less suffocated." The man rubbed his tears haphazardly, but couldn't wipe them clean.

"What next?" Zheng Ren asked.

"Nothing can be done; the doctor said another surgery is possible but the mortality is too high, not advised. I'll go back and discuss with the family, bring him back to wait for his father to grow old—what else can we do?"

Speaking, his tears flowed again.

Hearing the Fuwai Hospital doctor say surgery was still an option, his heart stirred. If surgery were still possible... Zheng Ren had already formed a preliminary judgment of the patient's condition,

"Yiren, take Heizi back first and call Su Yun down." Zheng Ren said.