After cooking dinner at home, I went to the clinic. Just as I approached the ward, I saw Song Hengjue rushing out: "Doctor!"
Yang Qingheng suddenly had a bad feeling and rushed over after dropping her lunchbox.
Yao Ying lay on the bed with her eyes closed, her lips even paler than yesterday.
The doctor examined Yao Ying's eyes, took her pulse, and asked with a serious expression, "How has the patient been feeling lately? Has she had a headache, dizziness, or been vomiting?" He then looked at Song Hengjue.
Song Hengjue was stunned for a moment, then hesitated for a few seconds.
Yang Qingheng pushed him aside, grabbed the doctor's hand urgently, her voice trembling with tears, but her words were clear and coherent.
"Yes, she said she had a headache a while ago, so she got some medicine from your Dr. Li. He said she was worrying too much and told her to relax in the future. She stopped vomiting and felt much better after taking the medicine, but her head still hurts."
At first, Yao Ying insisted that she was already better after taking the medicine, afraid that she would worry. It was only when she got up at night and saw a light in Yao Ying's room that she realized it and took her to the health clinic in the next town.
The doctor looked grave and sighed, "I think these symptoms are not just high blood pressure, but may also indicate a stroke. We don't have much medical equipment in our small town, so you should take the elderly person to the hospital for a check-up as soon as possible."
As he spoke, he gave Song Hengjue a disdainful look.
A son who doesn't even know his own mother's health condition is a truly unsuccessful son.
She had been so careful about Yao Ying's health, but she still couldn't avoid it.
Yang Qingheng's mind went blank, and she almost fell to the ground.
Wiping away her tears, she followed behind Song Hengjue. After several detours, the group finally arrived at the Municipal People's Hospital.
Outside the ward, Yang Qingheng sat blankly on a hospital bench, her fingers unconsciously digging into the edge of the bench, her nails already broken and her fingertips red and prickly.
Song Hengjue frowned, quickly grabbed her hand, wiped it clean on his sleeve, looked at it carefully for a few moments, and his brow twitched.
He patted her thin back, unsure whether he was trying to convince himself or comfort her: "Mom will be alright."
Yang Qingheng shook off his hand, staring intently into his eyes, her gaze chillingly cold.
Suddenly, she slapped him across the face, hysterically yelling, "Of course you don't care if she's alright! You can't find her every few days! Where were you when Mom wanted to see you? All you did was give her money! What good is giving her so much money? She's so old, what does she need so much money for! Why isn't it you lying in there? Why isn't it you?"
She had only been gone for one night when her mother had this accident!
Song Hengjue didn't dodge, taking the slap head-on, his eyes red as if they could drip blood, letting the woman punch and kick him.
The doctor opened the door and came out: "Yao Ying's family member."
"Doctor, how is my mother?" Song Hengjue asked in a quick step.
Even faster than him was Yang Qingheng: "Doctor, is my mother alright?"
The doctor looked at the two of them for a long time, then sighed: "The CT results are in. It's a cerebral hemorrhage. The situation is quite serious. Surgery is needed as soon as possible, but the next surgery is scheduled for three days from now. You can decide for yourselves whether to transfer to another hospital or continue waiting."
He glanced at the time, put the pen back in his jacket pocket, and left.
Yang Qingheng was a little stunned. A cerebral hemorrhage is something that needs to be resolved as soon as possible; there's no time to wait.
Song Hengjue pursed his lips: "Don't be too anxious. Go inside and take care of Mom first. I'll figure out how to handle the surgery."
Yang Qingheng belatedly nodded, walked directly into the ward, met Yao Ying's eyes, forced a smile and quickly approached: "Mom, how are you feeling now?"
"It doesn't hurt as much anymore," Yao Ying touched her head, cautiously probing, "Qingheng, what kind of illness is Mom? Can she still live?"
Yang Qingheng pouted, almost unable to hold back her tears, and glared at her fiercely: "What do you mean by living or dying? What nonsense are you talking about? I just need to have a minor surgery, and I'll be fine after it's done. Then we can go home together."
"That's good, that's good," Yao Ying breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing that she wouldn't die, and held her hand tightly. "Mom has caused you trouble."
Yang Qingheng shook her head, her eyes crinkling: "What nonsense are you talking about? You're my mother, how could your affairs be troublesome? Just focus on recovering."
She called out "Mom" so naturally that it felt perfectly natural.
Over time, she developed a genuine affection for this elderly woman. Even without Song Hengjue's connection, she truly considered her family.
Song Hengjue went somewhere to pull strings to find a doctor, and he couldn't find him until late at night. He didn't rush back until the next morning.
Yang Qingheng rushed forward to greet him, and Song Hengjue nodded: "It's scheduled for tomorrow afternoon."
Yang Qingheng's heart finally settled back into her stomach.
Yao Ying was annoyed when she saw her son and turned her head away. Yang Qingheng, on the other hand, was calm and handed him a bowl: "Take it out and wash it. There's still half a box of porridge left. You can make do with this for now."
Song Hengjue followed her out.
The woman was washing a square aluminum lunchbox by the sink. Song Hengjue looked at her beautiful and serene profile, feeling a mix of tenderness and bitterness in his heart, unable to quite describe his feelings.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com