Chapter 8 Pneumonia
Twenty-five family apartment buildings.
Gao Ming was very tactful in his dealings with people and things. Even though Chen Yun offered him the key, he didn't rush in.
First, they went to the housing affairs department to explain that Chen Yun's room was leaking, then took the repairman to Huang Lian, and only returned to the dormitory building with her assistance.
The maintenance workers quickly installed sealing strips on the windows, and Gao Ming even gave a few words of explanation to avoid Huang Lian misunderstanding.
"It was quite a coincidence this morning. I was originally entrusted by Li Huguo to check on the house for leaks, and I just happened to run into Comrade Chen downstairs."
Huang Lian smiled and said, "How could you misunderstand? We all work in the same factory, so it's only right that we help each other out."
Besides, she personally asked Gao Ming for help the day before yesterday. He was genuinely trying to help, so how could she possibly gossip about it?
"Comrade Chen is, after all, a young woman. It would be bad if she were misunderstood."
“Exactly.” Huang Lian’s gaze swept over Gao Ming’s face and landed on the house: “Comrade Chen is really skillful. Look how beautifully the house is decorated.”
Pulling the blue checkered curtain separates the room into an inner and outer room.
The old desk was covered with a piece of glass, and a few books were piled up in the corner. The green desk lamp was the same bad guy that Gao Ming had bought with him from the furniture store.
Although there was little furniture, it was neatly organized, but it still lacked a sense of life.
Gao Ming didn't say anything, but walked over and picked up the lamp.
Meanwhile, at the health center, everyone stopped gossiping and finally returned to their respective work posts.
Chen Yun looked up at the time... it was already 10:30.
I spent most of the morning getting water and listening to my colleagues' ramblings.
After closing the office door, Chen Yun took out her notebook and began to calculate how much of the three hundred yuan had been spent and how much more she would have to spend next.
I quickly wrote down the words: "Repairing the desk lamp and changing the light bulb, estimated at one yuan."
Knock knock knock—
"Please come in."
Chen Yun put the pen back in its cap and sat back down at the desk where she usually saw patients.
"Hello, doctor."
Two employees in work clothes helped a middle-aged man slowly move in. The man sat down weakly, barely managing to stay upright by supporting himself on the table with his hands.
Where does it hurt?
Chen Yun took off the stethoscope and hung it around her neck, then habitually raised her hands as if to type.
Only when he saw nothing did he realize and pick up his pen again.
The man didn't have time to notice Chen Yun's strange behavior. Suddenly, he clutched his stomach and started coughing violently until his face turned bright red.
"Cough...cough."
Chen Yun: "..."
The moment the man opened his mouth, a thick phlegm welled up inside. Perhaps feeling it was inappropriate to spit it out in front of the doctor, he swallowed it back down.
His coworkers behind him, seeing that he couldn't explain clearly for a long time, quickly helped him by describing his condition.
“Old Wu started coughing last week. We all thought he just had a cold and would get better in a few days... but we didn’t expect his cough to get worse and worse, and he was even shaking.”
Chen Yun nodded and wrote down the symptoms in her notebook, already certain that it was most likely related to the respiratory tract and lungs.
"Someone go to the nurses' station and get a mercury thermometer."
The short young man turned and left. After writing down the symptoms, Chen Yun picked up a stethoscope and placed it on the man's heart and lungs to conduct a physical examination.
Moist copper rales accompanied by respiratory murmurs are clear symptoms of pneumonia.
It's fortunate that this is a strong middle-aged man; if it were a child, his lungs would have turned white long ago.
"Stretch out your right hand."
After putting away the stethoscope, Chen Yun casually grabbed a towel, folded it, and placed it on the table, gesturing for the man to put his hand on it.
The young man who had just answered the patient's questions seemed to know Chen Yun and subconsciously asked, "Doctor Chen can also take a pulse?"
Chen Yun's gesture is clearly a pulse-taking gesture in traditional Chinese medicine.
"I learned a little bit from our school's homeroom teacher, which I used to aid in diagnosis."
The young man's name was Xia Jianjun. He was the one who picked up Chen Yun from the train station on the day Chen Yun came to Hongri Machinery Factory, and later he was responsible for carrying Chen Yun's luggage to the dormitory.
The two had no other interaction.
The original owner clearly did not remember Xia Jianjun, and Chen Yun simply answered casually without shifting her gaze at all.
"Doctor, what's wrong with me... Is my cold too bad?" The middle-aged man asked, his face full of worry.
"It should be pneumonia."
Although Chen Yun studied at a proper Western medical college in her previous life, she never rejected learning about traditional Chinese medicine because her grandparents were both traditional Chinese medicine practitioners.
Having been exposed to traditional Chinese medicine knowledge since childhood and having studied it specifically in university, few people know that Chen Yun is also a very skilled traditional Chinese medicine practitioner.
The pulse was typical of a floating pulse, and Chen Yun had already noticed the man's tongue was red when he swallowed phlegm, so it could be basically determined that it was early-stage pneumonia.
Fortunately, the man was in good health; otherwise, he would have developed complications long ago if the condition had dragged on for almost a week.
What is pneumonia?
The middle-aged man and the young man both looked at Chen Yun blankly, clearly having never heard of this disease.
“It’s inflammation of the lungs.” Chen Yun explained using a term commonly used by the locals, pointing to his ribs as he spoke: “If it’s not treated soon, the lungs will eventually lose their respiratory function, and the final result will be… suffocation.”
Most people try to save money wherever they can, so if you don't tell them the most serious consequences of the disease, they definitely won't take it seriously when they go back home.
Last year, there was an incident where Ye Yuanjun failed to clearly explain the seriousness of the situation, which led to a sudden worsening of the patient's condition a few days after returning home. Although the patient was saved at the county hospital, the family ultimately had to pay for the medical expenses at the local health center.
The factory publicly criticized the health center for this incident, and the director was so angry that he deducted all of Ye Yuanjun's bonuses for that year.
"It's that serious!" The middle-aged man's previously flushed face instantly turned deathly pale, and he gripped the corner of the office desk tightly with both hands: "Can...can it be cured?"
Chen Yun nodded a second before the man could say that if it couldn't be cured, then it wouldn't be treated: "It can be cured. A few days of antibiotics at the county hospital will do the trick."
"To the county hospital?"
These words seemed to hurt the middle-aged man even more than the incurable condition. Despair slowly crept onto his face, and in the end, only a deep sigh remained.
"If you have any difficulties, you can apply to the factory. Although pneumonia is a serious illness, it is easy to treat."
For employees facing financial difficulties, the factory will prepay three months' wages, so ordinary employees don't need to worry about not having enough money for life-saving medical treatment.
"Dr. Chen, you don't know, my master's situation is special."
Chen Yun then looked up and saw that the young man still had engine oil on his face, so he must be a technician working in the workshop.
Moreover, Chen Yun quickly remembered the young man's name—Zhao Zhiguo.
Zhao Zhiguo frowned deeply, his eyes filled with deep worry as if he were the one who was sick.
The middle-aged man's surname was Niu, and he was Zhao Zhiguo and Hu Zi's mentor.
Master Niu is a lathe operator who supports a family of seven on his own.
My mother and wife are in poor health and have to buy medicine from the county town every year. Over the years, we haven't saved a penny.
Last month, his wife developed a high fever after being caught in the rain and was taken to the county hospital. Mr. Niu had already received an advance of four months' salary.
“These past few months, the family’s living expenses have all been covered by loans from Zhiguo and Huzi. How can I possibly borrow any more money…” Master Niu covered his face in anguish.
The pain in his body, combined with the burdens of life, almost made him unable to breathe. He considered giving up and not seeking treatment, but then he thought that his whole family depended on him, and he couldn't even die if he wanted to.
Tiger took the thermometer and returned to the office, just in time to hear what Master Niu said. He quickly and loudly assured him, "Master, please go ahead and treat the illness. Zhiguo and I will go out and borrow the money for you."
The two young people also need to send money home every month. The money they had finally saved over the years had already been used for their teacher's wife's medical treatment, and now they can only borrow from their coworkers.
“No way! I’m not going to treat this illness.” Master Niu said as he stood up.
"Master Niu, don't be anxious." Chen Yun quickly supported the man, whose breathing was becoming more rapid due to excitement, and gently advised, "Sit down first, and I'll help you think of a solution."
Master Niu sighed, "I appreciate Dr. Chen's kindness, but I know what lung inflammation is like. Didn't Old Liu die from this disease in the county hospital? We spent money and he's gone... How are his family supposed to survive?"
Master Niu didn't know what pneumonia was, but the mention of lung inflammation immediately reminded him of his coworker who had just passed away last year. The treatment ended in financial ruin and he still hadn't paid off the debts he owed.
In my past life, the abuse of antibiotics was quite serious, but now I can't even get antibiotics if I want to.
After two years of applying to the county hospital, the health center finally received four vials of penicillin, each containing 800,000 units. Now, it is kept as a treasure locked in a cabinet in the director's office.
Chen Yun didn't say anything, but shook the thermometer and stuffed it into Master Niu's armpit.
Although there was no white blood cell count test, based on Chen Yun's many years of experience, at least two injections of penicillin per day for a week would be needed to alleviate the condition.
Not only was there still a significant shortage of penicillin, but the county hospital also had a rule that ordinary patients would only receive a three-day supply.
"Has Master Niu ever had penicillin injections before?"
After thinking for a moment, Chen Yun spoke.
Master Niu shook his head, clearly still immersed in pain.
“Here’s the situation…” Chen Yun explained the county hospital’s regulations and difficulties to Master Niu, then paused and continued, “My suggestion is to inject penicillin for two days first. If it works, then apply to the county hospital for treatment. But we can only get one day’s worth of medication. The rest will either have to be paid for out of pocket or we can try traditional Chinese medicine treatments.”
The three of them, master and apprentice, suddenly brightened up, and Master Niu became very energetic.
"Does your health center have traditional Chinese medicine practitioners?" Zhao Zhiguo asked in surprise.
"If Master Niu trusts me, I can give it a try." Chen Yun smiled and took out a thermometer.
A body temperature of 39 degrees Celsius, a high fever, is also a typical symptom of pneumonia.
"I believe you. Dr. Chen, please treat me. I'm telling you this: if I die from the illness, I won't blame Dr. Chen at all."
Zhao Zhiguo and Hu Zi nodded repeatedly.
They knew very well that Chen Yun was their master's last lifeline; if it were any of the other two doctors, they would have sent him away long ago.
“Then whoever goes back and gets an old, broken bowl, and a few cloves of garlic.” Chen Yun finished writing the medical record, stood up, and said, “I’ll go to the dean’s office to apply for penicillin.”
Whether two days' worth of medication can alleviate the symptoms is another matter; getting the precious penicillin from the hospital director is the first hurdle.
If it weren't for the lack of acupuncture needles and traditional Chinese medicine on hand, Chen Yun could have been treated entirely with traditional Chinese medicine.
Now... the only thing to do is face Dean Tao.
The heavens are enraged.
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