Chapter 2072: Chapter 1787: A Way to Live (2)

Doctor Meng smiled wryly, "It’s because he was too well, and that’s why it went wrong."

Zhaxi didn’t understand.

Yang Ping said, "The patient suddenly requested discharge this morning, saying he was already well and didn’t want to stay in the hospital for another minute. His family was also chiming in, saying there’s a pile of work waiting to be handled at the company, and he must leave immediately."

Zhaxi frowned, "But his intestinal infection hasn’t completely healed yet, he needs to continue medication after discharge and have regular check-ups..."

"We all know," Doctor Meng said, "but the family doesn’t see it that way. They think the aneurysm is gone, and what’s left are minor issues that can be managed at home."

Yang Ping said nothing, after listening to Doctor Meng’s report, they went together to see the patient.

In the ward, the patient was already in casual clothes, sitting by the bed, his wife was packing up his belongings. Seeing Yang Ping come in, the patient stood up and said with a smile, "Professor Yang, I was just about to come find you to say goodbye, thank you for saving my life."

Yang Ping nodded but did not stop him nor attempted to persuade him to stay. He simply walked over, sat by the bed, and pointed to the chair opposite, "Sit, let’s chat a bit before you leave."

The patient hesitated for a moment, looked at his wife, then at Yang Ping, and sat down.

Yang Ping asked, "Back home, is your work schedule packed?"

The patient nodded, "Two months’ worth of tasks piled up, contracts, meetings, projects, all waiting for me. Thousands of people at the company are waiting for their meals, I can’t be lying in the hospital all the time."

Yang Ping said, "I understand, but I want to ask you a question. Don’t thank me yet. My second question is, if you discharge now and go home, what if Clostridioides difficile recurs?"

The patient opened his mouth but didn’t speak.

Yang Ping said, "You might have diarrhea, leading to dehydration, electrolyte disturbance, and even collapse. Then you’d go back to the hospital, undergo exams, and be admitted again. If you’re lucky, the doctor will know you have Clostridioides difficile infection and prescribe vancomycin. If unlucky, they might prescribe cephalosporins, worsening your condition."

The patient’s face changed.

His wife chimed in, "Professor Yang, we’ll take our medicine on time when we go back, and we’ll be careful with our diet. We are not neglecting this; we truly have no choice. The company..."

Yang Ping turned to her, his tone calm, "I ask you one question, which do you think is more important—your husband’s health or his work?"

The woman was stunned.

Yang Ping said, "You just mentioned that the company has thousands of people waiting for their meals. But if your husband’s health fails, how will those thousands eat?"

He paused, pointing to the patient’s stomach, "The Clostridioides difficile in your intestines is not ordinary diarrhea. It can invade your blood vessels, travel to your brain, break your blood vessels, and cause cerebral hemorrhage. We were lucky this time because we found the cause and checked it with antibiotics. But it hasn’t been eradicated; it’s still in your intestinal tract. If you go home and don’t take medication properly or rest well, it will return with a vengeance."

The patient’s face turned completely pale.

Yang Ping looked at him, "You can leave now, I won’t stop you. But I ask you one thing—are you afraid of another cerebral hemorrhage?"

The patient lowered his head, was silent for a long time, and his wife was silent too, not packing her belongings anymore.

After a long while, the patient raised his head, his eyes a bit red, "Professor Yang, it’s not that I’m not afraid. It’s just... I’m used to it. Used to bearing, used to enduring. All these years, stuff from the company and home, I’ve done it all alone. I bear it when I’m sick, bear it when it hurts, and even when I can’t take it, I have to bear it."

His voice was a little hoarse, "You’re right, I’m indeed afraid. I’m afraid if it happens again, I really can’t bear it anymore."

Yang Ping said to him, "When you can’t bear it anymore, don’t bear it. Let others bear it for you; your body can’t handle so much. The company will run without you, but your body may not be so manageable if it misses the best treatment window."

Director Tian, sitting beside, said, "When you go back, hand over work to the vice president, hand over business to the department manager, pass off social engagements to your subordinates. Your sole task is to recover. When you recover, the company can thrive. If you fall apart, so does the company. Stay another week. After a week, get the stool tested again. If it turns negative, you can leave. If not, continue to stay. Deal?"

Yang Ping added, "Be kinder to yourself, being kind to yourself isn’t selfishness; it’s a form of responsibility. Only when you’re well can you take care of your family, and only when your family is cared for can you care for your employees."

The patient hesitated for a moment, then nodded, "Deal."

Yang Ping patted the patient’s shoulder, turned, and left.

Zhaxi followed after him. As they walked out of the ward, heading to the doctor’s office, Yang Ping spoke to Zhaxi.

"Remember, being a doctor isn’t just about treating illnesses. It’s about treating people, complete people. His body, his mind, his family, his work, they’re all part of the treatment. If you only care for his illness and not the person, even if cured, it might recur."

In the evening, Zhaxi did not revise his thesis. He sat in his dormitory, holding his notebook and wrote down a long passage.

He wrote about the patient.

This patient, fifty-four years old, an entrepreneur, rich, powerful, with a company and hundreds of employees. But he doesn’t have health. Six months without good sleep, six months without good meals, six months of diarrhea, and six months of fever. He doesn’t know there’s something wrong with his body, or he knows but has no time to deal with it.

Professor Yang used two weeks to heal his aneurysm. But how long will it take to cure his lifestyle habits? Will he still stay up late once he goes back? Will he still go to social engagements? Will he still bear every burden alone?