Seeing the patient's face, Pan Shihua sighed and said, "It's him."
"Do you know him?" others asked.
"He was my middle school classmate. His name should be Chen Chengran," said Pan Shihua.
The patient recognized Pan Shihua, and his pale face flushed with excitement. Two rays of light shone from his lifeless eyes. He said to his doctor classmate, "It's you. Pan Shihua, are you really a doctor?"
"Yes." Pan Shihua's delicate face showed a little restrained.
He is a boy who is easily shy. The reunion with his middle school classmates at this moment is somewhat dramatic, which was hard to predict. When they were in the same school and in the same classroom, they never thought that several years later one of them would be critically ill in bed and the other would wear a white coat to treat his classmate.
"The doctor's uniform you are wearing suits you very well." Chen Chengran looked at his classmate as he worked as a doctor and said approvingly.
"I'm not a doctor yet, just a medical student." Pan Shihua explained to his classmates that he was following his teacher to treat patients.
"It doesn't matter." Chen Chengran said to him, "I know you are very good. Your college entrance examination score was ranked first in the class. You are the only one in the province who can be admitted to the eighth grade class of the National Association."
...
...
Feeling a little embarrassed by the praise from his classmates, Pan Shihua turned his head to the side and saw Teacher Jiang walking away, leaving him to ask about the patient's medical history alone.
"I don't remember you having this disease before." Pan Shihua asked about the origin of his classmate's illness.
"You studied at the National Association of China in the capital, and I came to the capital to study at the University of Geosciences. I originally thought it was because I left my hometown to live and study here, which caused me to have difficulty acclimatizing. I didn't expect that I would have endless stomach pains. Later, the situation became more and more serious." Speaking of his illness, Chen Chengran's tone was sad and desperate. "I am not sure if I can successfully complete my undergraduate studies. My undergraduate classmates graduated this year, and I am the only one who is taking a leave of absence to treat my illness. Forget about finding a job. No company will want someone like me who is unhealthy."
Hearing that the tone of the sick student was not right, Pan Shihua counseled him: "Medical science is becoming more and more advanced now, there will be hope."
Chen Chengran didn't feel comforted. His face was full of helplessness, especially when he saw his classmates in their prime, healthy and promising, and his future was bleak in comparison. He felt like half of his body was lying in a coffin. The only thing that made him feel bad was: "My parents have raised me up, but I failed to be filial to them. What are they going to do in the future? Pan Shihua, you are a doctor, can you tell me how long I can live? My parents may have told the doctor not to tell me about my condition."
Being asked this question by his classmates was very stressful, and Pan Shihua could feel his breathing becoming a little heavy.
Feng Yicong and Xie Wanying were watching from the side, feeling equally nervous and heavy in their hearts.
After careful consideration, Pan Shihua decided to respect the patient's family's choice and put his hand on his classmate's shoulder to comfort him: "I think you should trust the doctor instead of letting your imagination run wild. It's okay. We are here with you. You will definitely be able to overcome the disease. You are not terminally ill. You must not lose confidence in yourself."
Unexpectedly, after he finished speaking, Chen Chengran looked at his face and said, "Pan Shihua, do you know? People often say that if you were a girl, they would have married you long ago."
Pan Shihua was completely stunned.
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