pain
"Xiao Fuzhou, I'm really trying to get better for you," Xu Yanchi murmured repeatedly on that rainy night. "But I'm in so much pain. I want to go back to Qingfan No. 1 High School, I want to hear the songs on the radio again, I want to go back to Class 7 and spend time with my classmates, I want to take the college entrance exam." Xu Yanchi repeated these words to herself over and over, as if speaking to Xiao Fuzhou, yet also as if speaking to herself. Sitting on the hospital bed, she coldly watched her shiny black hair being shaved off. Looking at herself in the mirror, she felt so much hatred, hatred for the injustice of the world, hatred for her repeated treatments. She tried to regain her composure, forcing herself to smile in front of the mirror every day. Since being diagnosed with liver cancer, Xu Yanchi had never felt so distressed. Not long ago, Xiao Fuzhou had visited her, and his anxious yet pitying gaze drove her mad. She was a normal person; she didn't need to be looked at with pity and sympathy. For the first time in the hospital, Xu Yanchi shed tears.
The corridor on the seventh floor of the inpatient department was filled with the mixed smell of disinfectant and medicine. Song Shi clutched the admission notice and followed the nurse through the long corridor, each step feeling like walking on cotton. The ward was a double room, and the bed by the window was empty. When the nurse moved Xu Yanchi from the gurney to the bed, she was still unconscious. Her face was paler than when she was at school. The bloodstains on her lips had been wiped clean, but they still had a bluish tinge.
"Let's start with IV fluids to replenish electrolytes and nutrients. The nurse will come to draw blood in a bit to complete the pre-operative examinations," the nurse said to Song Shi while inserting the IV needle into Xu Yanchi. The fluid dripped slowly, each drop hitting Song Shi's heart. She pulled up a chair and sat on the edge of the bed, gently holding her daughter's cold hand. Her fingertips caressed the fine veins on the back of Xu Yanchi's hand, and tears welled up again. Xu Yanchi, however, was already used to it. She patted her mother's hand, indicating that she could do it.
Not long after, a nurse pushed in a treatment cart, holding several blood collection tubes. "We need to draw five tubes of blood for coagulation, liver function, and tumor marker retests." The nurse used a tourniquet to tighten Xu Yanchi's arm, gently patting it to make the veins stand out. When the needle went in, Xu Yanchi's fingers trembled involuntarily. Song Shi quickly turned her face away, not daring to look at the dark red blood gushing from the needle. She could only hear the "glug-glug" sound of the blood collection tubes sucking blood, as if it were draining the strength from her heart.
That afternoon, the attending physician and his team came to make rounds, carrying a thick folder of medical records. "Ms. Song, we've developed a preliminary treatment plan. We'll start with interventional therapy to control tumor progression, while simultaneously using targeted therapy as an adjunct. We'll adjust the plan based on the treatment response." The doctor pointed to the plan in the medical record. Song Shi leaned closer to look; the pages full of technical jargon seemed like gibberish. She only understood "interventional therapy requires puncturing a blood vessel" and "there might be a painful reaction." She bit her lip and nodded. As long as her daughter could get better, she could endure any hardship.
The first interventional treatment was scheduled for the third day after hospitalization. At seven o'clock in the morning, the nurse came to prepare Xu Yanchi for the operation, shaving the hair in her right groin and repeatedly disinfecting it with iodine. Xu Yanchi finally woke up a little, looking at the disinfectant cotton in the nurse's hand, her voice hoarse like sandpaper: "Mom, does it hurt?" Song Shi squatted by the bed, holding her hand, and forced a smile: "It doesn't hurt, it's just a small puncture, it'll be over after a nap."
When the operating room trolley arrived to pick her up, Xu Yanchi clung to Song Shi's clothes, her eyes filled with panic. "Mom will wait for you outside, I'll definitely wait for you to come out." Song Shi tucked her daughter's hand under the blanket, watching the trolley slowly disappear at the end of the corridor. She leaned against the wall to keep from collapsing; she already had a huge hole in her body. After Xu Yanchi fell ill, Song Shi ran to the doors of many relatives, desperately grabbing the doorframes with both hands. "I've lent you everything I can! When are you going to pay back the 155,800 yuan you owe me from last week?! If it weren't for our kinship, I wouldn't have dared to come to your house! Get out of here!" The relatives tried to drive Song Shi out with sticks, but Song Shi didn't know where the strength came from. After being hit several times, she was finally driven out by the relatives.
The interventional treatment lasted for more than two hours. When Xu Yanchi was wheeled out, her face was as pale as paper, her brows were tightly furrowed, and she was groaning intermittently, "It hurts." "Postoperative pain is a normal reaction. Observe her first, and use painkillers if the pain becomes severe," the doctor said. Song Shi ran after the wheelchair, reaching out to touch her daughter's face, but afraid of touching the wound, she could only say again and again, "Yanchi, bear with it, Mom is here."
Back in the ward, Xu Yanchi's pain gradually subsided, but she was too weak to speak. Lying on her side, gazing at the gray sky outside the window, tears suddenly welled up—not from the pain, but from the bitterness in her heart, like cotton soaked in vinegar, too heavy to bear. She turned to look at Song Shi sitting by the bed, her lips moved, her voice hoarse as if veiled: "Mom, I didn't tell you I wasn't feeling well before..."
Song Shi quickly moved closer and propped up the pillow to make her more comfortable: "Silly child, it's not too late to say it now, Mom is listening."
“I used to run 800 meters without feeling tired at the finish line, but since the beginning of this semester, I can’t even finish 200 meters. I feel chest tightness halfway through and have to squat on the ground panting for a long time.” Xu Yanchi’s tears slid down her cheeks and fell onto the quilt. “My gums are always bleeding, and there’s blood in the foam when I brush my teeth. I get sleepy in class and want to fall asleep on the desk. I thought it was just low blood sugar and that eating more candy would help, so I didn’t take it seriously at all…”
She choked up more and more as she spoke, her shoulders trembling slightly: "I never thought I was sick. I even told Xue Su that I'd run a couple of laps around the track after the monthly exams to get my stamina back... Now I realize that all those discomforts were just it reminding me..." Before she could finish, tears suddenly streamed down her face. She gripped Song Shi's hand and broke down in sobs: "Mom, I regret it so much. If I had told you sooner, would things have turned out differently...?"
Song Shi hugged her daughter tightly, gently patting her back, her own tears falling as well: "It's not your fault, it's Mom's fault for not paying attention. Mom should have asked you more questions... Don't cry, it's not too late to treat her now, okay?" Xu Yanchi buried her face in Song Shi's arms and cried, letting out all the fear and regret she had been holding in for the past few days. She cried until she was exhausted, then stopped sobbing and leaned on her mother's shoulder, her eyes slowly clearing up.
Through her blurred vision, she remembered Xiao Fuzhou's flushed ears standing under the sycamore tree, the slight tremor in his fingertips as he took the bookmark; she remembered Xue Su's smile as he leaned over her desk, trying to snatch a pen refill; she even remembered the most mischievous boy in the class, his embarrassment when caught passing notes by the teacher. The word "death," which she had only ever seen in textbooks before, now felt like a cold mist pressed against her nose, so close and real. But she didn't want to die, she really didn't—she hadn't yet smelled the sun-warmed sycamore leaves at the school gate, hadn't finished going over that half-page of history timeline with Xiao Fuzhou, hadn't made a promise with Xue Su to go see the sea after the college entrance exam.
A soft knock sounded at the door, just as Xu Yanchi had finished wiping away her tears. Song Shi got up to open the door and saw Xue Su carrying a bulging cloth bag, with Xiao Fuzhou following behind, holding a thermos. Both were wearing school uniforms and stood awkwardly at the door. "Auntie, we... came to see Yanchi." Xue Su's voice was very soft as she glanced into the ward. Seeing that Xu Yanchi was awake, she quickly handed the bag to Song Shi. "This contains milk and protein powder. My classmate said that I need to supplement my nutrition when I'm sick. There's also some red date porridge that my mom cooked, which is in a thermos."
Xiao Fuzhou didn't speak, but quickly walked to the bedside, his gaze falling on Xu Yanchi's pale face and the IV needle on the back of his hand. His Adam's apple bobbed slightly. He was still clutching a small box in his hand, and handed it over very gently: "The bookmark you gave me last time, I... found a matching bookend, thinking you could use it when you read in the future." The box opened, revealing a light-colored wooden bookend with delicate pine branches carved along the edges, echoing the pattern of the "Pine Trees in the Sun" bookmark.
Xu Yanchi looked at the books, and tears welled up in her eyes again, but this time it wasn't the breakdown from before; it was a warm feeling. She opened her mouth, her voice still hoarse, but with a hint of a smile: "Thank you... How's class? Where are we in biology class?"
"They're talking about the laws of inheritance. The teacher said she'll give you some notes when you get back!" Xue Su leaned closer to the bed, took her hand that wasn't pricked by the needle, and gently squeezed it. "You don't know, when you're not here, the boys in the back row don't dare to pass notes anymore. Also, Xiao Fuzhou did a group discussion last week and compiled the timeline you mentioned into a table. He said he'll bring it to you when you feel better."
Xiao Fuzhou stood to the side, listening to Xue Su speak, his gaze never leaving Xu Yanchi's face. After a while, he said softly, "Focus on getting better and don't worry about school. I asked the doctor, and he said that a good mood helps with recovery. If you feel down, we'll bring you textbooks next time and we can go over them slowly."
Xu Yanchi nodded, wiping away her tears only to have them fall again, but her smile was brighter than before. Song Shi stood at the door, watching the three children talk, and quietly wiped her eyes—the porridge in the thermos was still steaming, and the pine branches on the book stand were finely carved. These small, warm feelings, like sunlight falling on snow, made the smell of disinfectant in the ward seem less intense.
Xue Su and Xiao Fuzhou didn't stay long, afraid of disturbing Xu Yanchi's rest. As they left, Xue Su turned back and reminded him, "I'll come see you again tomorrow and bring you the latest comics!" Xiao Fuzhou squatted by the bed and whispered, "Keep the book stand safe. When you get back, we'll use it to hold our history textbooks together."
After the ward door closed, Xu Yanchi held the light-colored wooden bookend in her hand. Her fingertips touched the warmth of the engraved lines, and suddenly she felt less afraid. The sky outside the window slowly cleared, and a ray of sunlight shone through the glass onto the blankets, warm and comforting. She placed the bookend on the bedside table, next to the bookmark, her eyes filled with a touch of warmth.
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