I was almost driven crazy by the doctor in front of me. I had no idea what disease was hidden behind those professional terms she used and how serious it was.
"Is it...serious?" I began to stutter unconsciously.
She nodded and said, "This is a rare disease. The symptoms are not particularly obvious, nor is it particularly painful, but it is like a flower that will slowly wither."
I just felt a chill run through my body and shivered uncontrollably: "Is there...is there any treatment?"
She shook her head helplessly: "The current five-year survival rate in China is only 20 to 30 percent. Although some large tertiary hospitals in Beijing and Shanghai have introduced targeted therapy, the survival rate is only 60 percent, and the cost is quite expensive."
I gritted my teeth and said, "Money is not a problem. I will do anything to live one more day."
She was affected by my emotions and her tone became no longer calm. She scolded, "I said it was just a normal situation. The patient is now seriously ill. She has one foot on the edge of the cliff."
I completely collapsed. I knelt down in front of the doctor and begged desperately, "Please, please save her. She is still so young, so passionate about life, and so kind..."
"That's enough!" the doctor interrupted me sharply, "If begging at the top of your lungs was useful, there would be no death in this world."
I collapsed on the ground, feeling a heart-wrenching pain in my chest, but no tears could flow from my eyes. I asked her in a hoarse voice: "Help her, let her live one more day, even one more second."
The doctor calmed himself down and his tone returned to its icy tone: "My obstetrics department has diagnosed that you need to abort the pregnancy immediately to reduce the burden on your respiratory and circulatory systems."
I kept mumbling, "Mid-pregnancy...mid-pregnancy..."
The doctor bent over and reached out to grab me, pulling me up from the ground, and said impatiently: "Family members, make a decision immediately, there is no time to delay. I hope you can face the reality rationally. The patient is no longer suitable for induced labor. If the labor process is too long, the heart and lungs will not be able to bear it. The best way is a cesarean section."
I suddenly woke up from a dream and shouted, "No, if we sacrifice this child, it would be like killing Qingwan."
Yang Ruining stared at me with wide eyes, looking puzzled: "Then are both adults and children going to die?"
These words came out of the mouth of a doctor who saved lives and healed the wounded, completely infuriating me. I stepped forward, grabbed her collar, and shouted hysterically: "What did you say? If you harm them both, I will kill you!"
She turned pale with fear, not knowing what drastic action I would take next. At this tense moment, the door was suddenly opened, and a group of people stood outside.
Lin Xun rushed to my side quickly and slapped me in the face: "Guan Hongjun, are you crazy?"
The slap sobered me up. I slowly loosened my hand and walked out without looking back.
This world is so cold and cruel, it will ruthlessly take away everything from you, including the life you love most. I returned to the ward, and the reality drained all my vitality. I crawled beside the bed, held Qingwan's hand in my palm, and gently rubbed it on my cheek.
I prayed devoutly in my heart, no matter which god could change this cold reality, I would rather go to hell and redeem myself.
My father-in-law also leaned over, tears streaming down his face. He was in as much pain as I was, and he patted me on the shoulder and said, "Hongjun, Qingwan is your wife. No matter what decision you make, I support you."
The sound of my mother-in-law sobbing kept coming, reminding me that time was running out. Every minute and every second of delay was increasing the power of the god of death to strangle Qingwan's throat.
I gently put down Qingwan's cold little hand and tucked it under the sheets. Then, I walked towards the doctor's office without looking back.
Outside the obstetrics operating room, I paced back and forth restlessly, and the time passed was agonizing and long.
Wang Yanshu's wife, Fu Hongjun, and Liu Yun came one after another. I mechanically exchanged greetings with them, but turned a deaf ear to their concerns and said nothing.
My parents Zhang Fangfang and Guan Ningyu were also brought here.
Seeing my parents' faces aged as if in just one day, tears welled up in my eyes, but I still controlled myself.
When Ningyu asked me where Aunt Zhu had gone, I couldn't hold it back any longer and burst into tears, hugging my son in my arms.
Qingwan is always so considerate, she treats Ningyu as her own child, and Ningyu relies on her even more than I, her lifeless father.
Seeing me, a grown man, crying, everyone present was moved. It was also the first time since the divorce that Zhang Fangfang showed such tolerance to me. She comforted me with her eyes, but she had already burst into tears.
This is Qingwan. She can transform a person who is hostile and rejects her into a close friend.
The moment the operating room door was opened, my heart rose to my throat and a NICU transfer cart was pushed out.
The nurse asked, "Who is the patient's family member?"
I stumbled forward a step and answered hoarsely, "I am."
"The mother had just undergone a cesarean section and successfully delivered a 29-week premature baby girl. The baby's vital signs were stable after birth and no special rescue was needed for the time being. She was immediately transferred to the NICU for observation. A specialist will take the family to the NICU to visit the baby later and explain the subsequent care plan in detail."
In the incubator, various tubes were connected to the baby in the cradle, and I could hardly see what my daughter looked like. I asked anxiously, "How is Dad?"
The nurse answered cordially: "The delivery is over, and the respiratory department is working on it. The specific situation will be announced later." This vague answer made me nervous again, and the joy that my daughter was temporarily safe disappeared in an instant.
I walked to the operating room and pressed my body against the door. I could hear the song "June Boat Song" that Qingwan played for me. So I hummed it softly with my hoarse voice. I hoped Qingwan could hear it, so that she could wake up her desire to survive and watch our daughter grow up together.
I don't know how long it took, but the door of the operating room finally opened slowly, and Yang Ruining walked out first. She took off her sweat-soaked mask and hood, looked at me tiredly, and asked, "Were you the one humming just now?"
I thought I had disturbed her work, so I nodded apologetically. A glimmer of disbelief flashed across her eyes, and she said weakly, "It's a miracle. The patient's heart had stopped beating, but after you hummed the song, her heart stubbornly resumed beating."
Need I put it more bluntly? I, Qingwan, made it through! I bowed deeply to Yang Ruining, joy surging out like a tide, rushing through every pore of my body.
"The patient will be sent to the ICU immediately. Family members, please move aside." She returned to her cold tone.
The news that Qingwan and her daughter were temporarily safe did not dispel my sorrow. I stood on the rooftop of the hospital.
The night wind blowing on my cheeks is more painful than the slaps from the mushrooms on my face.
Looking at the starry sky, I felt small and powerless for the first time in my life.