Early the next morning, Ou Shaowen was the first to wake up. He turned his head. Ou Renjin was still asleep. He was frowning slightly and his cheeks were a little red.
Ou Shaowen didnât disturb him, got out of bed and went to the bathroom to wash. Then he glanced at Ou Renjin on the bed again. He suddenly remembered that he seemed to have said yesterday that his throat was sore.
Ou Renjinâs personal kitchen was on the sixth floor last time he was there. Ou Shaowen quietly closed the door and went there to make breakfast for him.
The ingredients in the fridge seemed to have just been replenished and there was no trace of anything being used. He steamed two bowls of egg custard, cooked some white porridge and brought it down together.
He forgot to bring his mobile phone and was afraid that Ou Renjin would wake up and wouldnât find him, so he was in a bit of a hurry. Fortunately, back in the ward, Ou Renjin hadnât woken up yet.
Ou Shaowen set up the breakfast, and then went over and called him, âOu Renjin, wake up, itâs time for breakfast.â
Ou Renjinâs eyelashes moved slightly, but he didnât open his eyes and his expression was somewhat uncomfortable.
âOu Renjin?â Ou Shaowenâs heart skipped a beat suddenly as he reached out to touch his face, then shrank back in shock feeling the higher-than-normal temperature.
Dr. Chen had just finished answering the phone; the hospice notified him that the patient was in a bad condition and might die tonight or tomorrow. They had already done one round of resuscitation and there would probably not be a second round, according to the wishes of the family.
He called Dr. Wu, who was in touch with him but had been in a neighbouring city for the past few days conducting a seminar on heart transplantation and had flown over afterwards to wait.
The hospital had arranged for him to live nearby, and as soon as the heart was in place, the operation could begin immediately.
Everything was going well.
Before Dr. Chen could show a smile of relief, a nurse hurriedly knocked on the door of his office.
At the moment he looked at the anxious face of the nurse, his eardrums buzzed, as if a bucket of icy water was poured onto his head. His heart jolted, and before she spoke, he somehow had a feeling that this would definitely not be the news he wanted to hear.
Is there always Murphyâs Law in this world?
The more you fear something, the more it will happen.
âDr. Chen, Mr. Ou Renjin, he has a fever. It is a cold, and fever symptoms are caused by inflammation of the tonsils.â The nurse took a few breaths, âWhat do you think we should do next?â
For ordinary people, a cold was just a common and harmless disease. Even if you didnât take the medicine, you would generally be fine in a week. However, for patients with heart disease, colds were their archenemy. They could seriously affect heart and lung function and aggravate heart insufficiency, easily becoming a cause of heart attack.
Therefore, once he had a fever, Ou Renjinâs condition would become precarious. And it was absolutely impossible to perform surgery in this situation.
Chen Sui had been a doctor for many years. At this moment, he suddenly understood why their director never operated on people he knew. The more personal feelings you had, the more unable you were to make even basic judgments calmly.
At this time, he was sitting somewhat helplessly, slumped in his chair, and his mind was in a mess. After a while, he raised his head and said to the nurse who had been waiting for a long time, âFirst ask Director Li to come over and take a look to determine⌠whether it is still possible to perform the surgery as planned and whether we need to call the hospice immediately and let themâŚâ
He had a hard time saying the remaining half of the sentence, ââŚcontact other patients who are suitable for heart source.â
Something like a heart source was inherently rare and precious, there was no way it could be saved for when you had a suitable time for surgery. A missed opportunity was a missed opportunity, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.
He suddenly regretted that he hadnât done anything when Guan Qijun had made that suggestion yesterday.
Why did fate always have to be so cruel to a person? He couldnât help but feel indignant for Ou Renjin, for his destiny seemed to have been sealed by the heavens.
A group of doctors surrounded Ou Renjinâs bed for a long time, and soon a nurse came in with a trolley full of needles, syringes and drip bottles.
Then, the ECG monitor was immediately connected to the bedside.
âBeep. Beep.â
The instrument was beeping continuously, and Ou Shaowen sat aside like a piece of wood, with cold white porridge and egg custard on the table in front of him.
âItâs okay,â he whispered, his voice so low that it was practically a murmur, âHeâll be fine.â
As long as Ou Renjin was okay this time, after a period of time to adjust, his heart could be transplanted.
You see, the heavens also felt it was better to use his heart.
So when Dr. Chen and Guan Qijun came together, he behaved even more calmly than them.
He turned his head when he heard the voices and said, âI was just about to call the nurse, the medicine is almost over.â
Guan Qijun pressed the call button at the head of the bed and slowed down the drip that was about to be finished, âShe will be here soon.â
The two people were both very calm.
Dr. Chen glanced at the two of them, âThe current situation is to see if the inflammation can subside and the temperature can go down. There might be good news from the heart source. Maybe the patient is more tenacious and can hold on for a few more days, just in time for Ou Renjin to get better.â
In the end, his tone became weaker and weaker, as if he couldnât even convince himself.
âItâs okay, if you miss it, you miss it. Thereâs still me,â Ou Shaowen said.
Guan Qijunâs fingers that had been clenched into fists loosened slightly. He looked up at Ou Shaowen, and suddenly laughed softly.
âOu Shaowen, letâs talk,â he said.
Dr. Chen frowned. He knew better than anyone else why Guan Qijun had left Ou Renjinâs side. âGuan Qijun, donât mess around while Ou Renjin is unconscious.â
Guan Qijun turned his head and smiled at him meaningfully, then turned back and said to Ou Shaowen, âShall we just talk here?â
âYeah.â He glanced at Ou Renjin on the hospital bed, âI have to look at him.â
âWell, then letâs talk here.â Guan Qijun didnât even ask Dr. Chen to leave and said directly, âYou said that your organs can regrow. They donât believe it, but I believe it.â
Ou Shaowenâs attention seemed to be hooked, and he looked at Guan Qijun.
âOu Renjinâs condition has always made me very depressed. It seems that I have tried everything, but I always make mistakes, and there is nothing I can do. I even consulted a friend who was studying artificial hearts abroad. He said that the current artificial heart technology can only last for one to two years, but you definitely donât want Ou Renjin to have only one to two years of life left, right?â
Ou Shaowen looked at him quietly. Guan Qijun lowered his gaze and asked, âHow long will it take for your heart to regrow?â
âGuan Qijun.â Dr. Chenâs face is already extremely ugly. âThings havenât reached that final stage yet, donât go crazy here.â
âAbout two months.â Ou Shaowen replied, his expression calm and determined.
âThen in the two months while it grows again, what do you live on?â
No one cared about Chen Sui.
âThe extracorporeal blood supply instrument.â For some reason, Guan Qijunâs calm expression and tone brought Ou Shaowen a wonderful sense of trust. He knew that the two of them had the same purpose.