Xun Zhen could finally breathe a sigh of relief.
The surgery probably has accounted for all possible unexpected events, and all the news coming out of the ICU is good news.
Each awakening was successful, there was no cerebrospinal fluid leakage, hearing and vision were normal, limb reactions were normal, and the baby could give simple answers.
There was no suffocation or respiratory dysfunction, and vital signs remained stable.
Although there was a large amount of blood loss, the bleeding was stopped promptly and thoroughly, and there was no secondary bleeding or hematoma, and no irreversible damage to the nerves was caused...
The ICU wakes up the patient every twenty minutes, and Dean Xun comes to report the situation every twenty minutes.
This went on until late at night, and even he felt it was too much of a bother, so he hesitated at the door of the lounge: "...Manager Ming?"
"Hurry up." Minglu's expression became more and more relaxed. He put down his pocket watch and nodded with a smile, "The sir is waiting for you."
Xun Zhen breathed a sigh of relief, quickly walked into the lounge, and roughly explained the next arrangements to Ming Weiting.
"Ming——" Xun Zhen's heart was basically settled, and he could finally say this name without any more anxiety, "Ming Chi."
It must be said that these two words put together are indeed much more compatible than the previous combination.
If he were asked to pick a name at random, he would definitely choose a name like this that looks bright and impressive.
"So far, there have been no complications and no signs of infection," Xun Zhen said. "He was kept in the ICU overnight because we wanted to keep him on the pain pump for a while longer."
Xun Zhen hesitated for a moment, then added: "We must strictly keep him calm now. The nurse didn't ask him anything more, but just had a simple conversation with him... We can't judge the extent of his memory damage yet."
"It's okay." Ming Weiting nodded, "Thank you."
"It's our job."
Xun Zhen breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that he didn't care, and quickly shook his head: "You may have cerebral edema in the early morning. It's unavoidable due to too much blood loss, but it won't be too serious. You can return to the ward when the swelling is stable. Someone will be watching you at all times."
He quickly finished explaining the rest of the story: "The next step is to rest and recuperate, and be careful not to get an intracranial infection... The duration of the surgery has been controlled as much as possible, and the operation has been performed with caution, so there shouldn't be any infection."
"The operation on that little girl was also quite successful after his." Xun Zhen said with a smile, "Here we call it a one-hundred-best luck. The next operation table will have good luck. It's because of him that brought the good luck. I have to give him a red envelope later."
Ming Weiting looked at Ming Lu, who nodded: "That's true, sir."
This is a real saying in hospitals. You can say it's a bit superstitious and a way to get good luck, or you can say it's influenced by psychological factors.
After all, if the first operation of the day is a great success, the following operations on this operating table will go more and more smoothly, and most of the patients who undergo subsequent operations will be safe and sound.
Minglu briefly explained it and added, "There is another saying - if even the doctor is in the mood to joke, it means that the patient is out of danger and there will be basically no more problems in the future."
Xun Zhen nodded, and then he realized that he seemed to have forgotten to say this sentence, and quickly added: "In fact, it can be determined that it is out of danger now, and it is basically okay."
After he said this, he saw Ming Weiting finally look relaxed, and his heart finally settled down.
——Even after the operation was successful, Xun Zhen and the psychological team were still worried about this matter.
Such cases are not uncommon. After brain surgery, the patient and those around him may not be able to accept the consequences of memory damage and adapt to the new life.
But now it seems that this matter is not so important.
Dean Xun's steps finally relaxed and he quickly left the lounge.
The situation on the other side was also smooth. The next morning, the ICU sent the patient back to the ward safely.
…
The only one who had a little trouble was the steward of the Ming family.
After a night, Ming Lu still failed to persuade Ming Weiting to rest.
Manager Ming, who was nearly 70 years old, no longer had the physical strength to accompany the previous master for three days and three nights. After sleeping for half the night with his clothes on, he woke up and saw Ming Weiting still sitting beside the bed.
Ming Weiting's posture was slightly different from before, and his body seemed to be relaxed. Minglu approached quietly with light steps and indeed discovered more differences.
The previously empty hospital bed now had someone lying on it again.
Minglu half squatted down and checked the data card on the new bed.
He straightened the data card, and when he saw Ming Weiting looking at him, he smiled and said softly, "Ming Chi."
Ming Weiting's expression was much more relaxed than before. When he heard the name, he also smiled slightly. He nodded and looked at the person sleeping peacefully on the bed.
"Ming Chi."
The young master of the Ming family, who had a new name, closed his eyes, one of his hands was held by Ming Weiting, and the indwelling needle in the other hand was still connected to the pain pump. His breathing was long and steady, and he was sleeping soundly without being startled even if the sky fell.
Ming Lu asked softly, "You haven't woken up yet?"
Ming Weiting nodded. He had asked Xun Zhen, so he was not in a hurry at all, and whispered: "I'm too tired, so I need to sleep a little longer."
Minglu stood up and walked quietly to the bedside.
In private, he and his husband have actually mentioned this name many times, so he doesn't feel unfamiliar with it at all.
The "Ming" of the Ming family was not originally inherited entirely by blood. It was just that a group of people who were originally in the shadows gathered together, lit a bonfire to break the darkness and turn it into light, and thus it was passed down in this way.
Mingchi sleeps next to his husband.
——There is nothing special about this sentence. It sounds like the most ordinary words, but it is just describing the situation at hand.
The young master of the Ming family survived that life-and-death situation and is now sleeping soundly beside his master.
But it seems that it is precisely because it is ordinary that it seems particularly special.
It was so special that when one thinks about those few hours yesterday, and then brings one's mind back to the present, one can't help but find something to express gratitude for.
The Ming family has never had much faith. Ming Lu decided to refer to Xun Zhen's method and go back to give red envelopes to all the gods to show his gratitude. He smiled and nodded: "Then sleep a little longer."
Ming Weiting sat on the edge of the bed. He bent his shoulders and rested his forehead on the hand he was holding.
Minglu walked over, squatted down, and whispered, "Sir."
"I'm not thinking about anything." Ming Weiting knew what Uncle Lu was going to ask and shook his head slightly, "I just wanted to thank him."
After coming out of the ICU, the patient was basically confirmed to be out of danger, and some of the intraoperative conditions were finally told to his family.
The biggest surprise is insufficient anesthesia during surgery, which is difficult to detect through any examination. Once agitation, struggle or even awakening during surgery occurs, it may lead to unimaginable consequences.
But no matter how many times the heart monitor sounded the alarm, the patient's heart never stopped beating. The beating of the heart was more stable than in any surgical simulation.
It seemed like they had really agreed that they would never stop this time, so they kept dancing for him to see.
"When the young master wakes up and knows about this, he will be very proud."
Minglu already had experience, and whispered, "Sir, remember to tell him."
Ming Weiting responded, still maintaining the same posture, with his forehead resting quietly on his hand.
He kept his eyes closed for so long that Ming Lu almost thought he had fallen asleep. He stood up and wanted to get a thin blanket, then he heard Ming Weiting speak again: "Xun Zhen said."
Minglu stopped.
"When he first wakes up, he will be completely confused," Ming Weiting said. "He won't remember anything."
Ming Weiting continued slowly, "He lost too much blood. He had a mild cerebral edema in the early morning. Although it subsided quickly, it still caused temporary cognitive impairment."
Ming Lu's expression turned serious, and he asked in a low voice: "How short?"
"One to two hours." Ming Weiting paused for a while before slowly speaking, "There are no sequelae. It's like being in a daze when compared to an ordinary person."
Ming Lu's heart dropped with a thump. He stood there speechless for a long time. Suddenly, he noticed that Mr. Ming, who was lowering his head, had a subtle smile on his face. He was half surprised and half amused: "When did you learn to joke, sir?"
Ming Lu quickly reacted, and before Ming Weiting could answer, he nodded first: "Yes, I learned this from the young master these days... I was nervous for a whole day and night, so I wanted to scare the old man."
Ming Weiting's expression finally relaxed completely. He slowly held the hand, looked up with a smile, and looked at the always calm and steady steward of the Ming family: "When did Uncle Lu learn to joke?"
Minglu was a natural at making jokes, but he was no longer at the age where he could act like a youngster.
He hadn't felt so relaxed in many years. He watched the matter being settled with the two young men, and even looked forward to the days ahead. "These days," Ming Lu said with a smile, "I learned it from the young master."
Ming Weiting's smile became more obvious, he raised his hand and touched the young master's earlobe: "So amazing."
Minglu had asked Xun Zhen before, as long as the person wakes up, he can drink a small amount of water and eat, so he also took out a piece of peach candy from his pocket and placed it next to the bed: "So amazing."
Ming Weiting looked at the candy. He sat quietly for a while, finally moved his palm away, put the warmed hand back into the quilt, and carefully covered the edge of the quilt.
He did all of these things very seriously, and after finishing each task, he bent his fingers and tapped the quietly closed eyelashes.
Ming Weiting stood up. He had been sitting by the bed for too long. He paused for a few seconds before the numbness in his legs subsided. "Uncle Lu."
Minglu looked at his movements and came back to his senses: "Sir?"
"I'll go inside. Tell me what happens immediately." Ming Weiting said, "Please take care of him for the time being."
The "inside" he mentioned is a separate compartment in the single ward, which is provided for accompanying family members to rest.
The area of the compartment is not very large. It is located behind the screen in the corner of the ward. Once the door is closed, it is almost invisible from the outside.
Ming Lu was stunned for a moment, then he immediately responded after a moment of hesitation: "What else did Xun Zhen say? Sir, he doesn't fully understand the situation after all. Some things can be discussed in light of the specific circumstances."
Ming Weiting shook his head: "What he said makes sense, and I agree with him."
After confirming Ming Weiting's attitude, Xun Zhen spoke much bolder and further explained to him in detail the most suitable plan for early postoperative recovery of patients with this type of memory damage.
The most taboo thing for patients undergoing brain surgery is emotional fluctuations. Any even slightly drastic emotional change may lead to increased intracranial pressure and instability of unhealed hemostatic points.
To achieve the best prognosis, such emotional fluctuations should of course be avoided as much as possible.
"Ming Chi's condition," Xun Zhen said, "We are not sure how much memory he has left... but according to the medical records, he had a headache caused by forced recall."
Xun Zhen hesitated for a while, and then whispered, "We are somewhat worried."
——If the young master of the Ming family wakes up and sees someone he has no memory of but must remember no matter what, will he desperately try to search for his memories? They are not sure about this.
After listening to this, Minglu didn't know what to say, but he couldn't help but frowned slowly.
"It's just that during this period of time, once his physical condition is completely stable, there will no longer be such concerns."
Ming Weiting explained simply that he did not think this incident would lead to any fundamental changes: "Uncle Lu, I have made a 95-page plan. Sooner or later, I will chase him."
Minglu immediately remembered the ninety-five pages of overly detailed plan. He felt a headache and laughed at himself, so he nodded: "Yes."
Ming Lu could probably guess that what Ming Weiting meant by "chasing him" was a shorthand way of saying "chasing his star."
After all, having to say so many words every time is really not in line with the taciturn personality of Mr. Ming. As for whether this statement has any other meaning...even if it does, it is unlikely to appear in Ming Weiting's knowledge base.
But this time Minglu didn't intend to correct him, but just gave him a piece of peach candy: "Sir, work hard."
Ming Weiting nodded solemnly: "I'll recite it."
Minglu really couldn't help laughing this time. He really wanted Ming Weiting to sleep for a few hours, so he didn't object to the arrangement. He sat down beside the bed and watched the door of the compartment close gently.
…
In the next few hours, Minglu sat in a chair next to the bed and thought about a lot of things.
In fact, he often felt that his master seemed to have been influenced by the young master and had changed a lot - this change was very comfortable. Maybe it's because it's too comfortable, so if I were to stop it here and start over again, there would always be some regrets.
But this worry is indeed reasonable, so even if it is somewhat regrettable, it does not seem completely unacceptable.
After all, it was a ninety-five-page plan.
Not to mention chasing stars, even chasing people will probably work.
Ming Lu didn't intend to remind Ming Weiting specifically. But he did plan to find an opportunity to sort out the story of the previous generation's gentleman and lady, and find an opportunity to be dragged into playing Truth or Dare again, and tell it to the two of them as a story.
Mr. Shang became serious only after his wife passed away. He was actually very energetic when he was young. Minglu was also young at that time, and he helped to come up with a lot of romantic methods, and finally got the lady to jump onto the ship with her suitcase and skirt in hand.
The two situations are of course not exactly the same, but if I can tell them at the right time, it might provide some enlightenment and inspiration to you...
Ming Lu came back to his senses. He noticed the movement on the bed and stood up and walked over quickly: "Young Master?"
The person on the bed slowly opened his eyes, looked around with some difficulty for a while, looked confused, and tried to sit up with one hand.
Ming Lu's hands were gentle, and he stopped his movements in time and raised the bed slightly: "Your name is Ming Chi, you are sick, and you just had surgery."
The eyes blinked twice and repeated: "Bright and fierce."
"Mingchi." Minglu nodded, took down the data card on the bedside table and showed it to him, "Do you like it?"
Obviously like it.
Even though everything was still blank for the time being, after recognizing the two words, the confusion in those eyes almost quickly faded away and then brightened up.
Minglu adjusted the height of the bed and saw that even his ears had turned a little red. He couldn't help but be curious: "What's wrong?"
"I like it." He replied softly, "Why does it sound so good?"
He sat there, with the serious look of someone opening a present, repeating these two words over and over in his mind several times.
Minglu laughed and called him softly, letting him get used to the name: "Mingchi."
The young man whose name was called leaned against the hospital bed. His face was pale and his body, which had been well recovered, was drained of most of its energy by the major surgery. However, his eyes still brightened up as he heard the name: "It's me."
"It's you." Minglu nodded with a smile, "Mingchi."
His eyes suddenly curved, and although he couldn't make a loud sound, he still made a forceful "hmm" sound.
Minglu accompanied him to practice back and forth several times, and did not stop until he was completely used to it.
It is only a temporary reversible cognitive impairment and will not affect one's personality. Minglu calmed down his expression, took the water, and held Mingchi's hand to help him hold it steady: "Call me Uncle Lu."
Mingchi blinked and raised his head.
"I'm here to take care of you. You can ask me anything you want..." Minglu stopped talking halfway, "What's wrong?"
Mingchi looked at the thing that was stuffed into his hand.
After recalling the special circumstances that may exist for cognitive impairment, Minglu paused for a moment and explained to him: "This is a cup. It contains water. It can quench your thirst."
Minglu helped him lift the cup up and put it to his lips: "Take a sip slowly, don't drink too much."
Ming Chi first called out "Uncle Lu", and then slowly took a sip of water as he said.
He hadn't had any water for more than forty-eight hours and had to rely on intravenous fluids. He tried to swallow the water, and his dry and burning throat instantly felt cool and comfortable, and his eyes brightened again.
"I have a little bit." Ming Chi thought for a moment, "Anomial aphasia."
His thinking logic is still normal, but he can't remember anything for the time being. He can't remember anyone's name, and he can't tell the names of the things around him.
Ming Chi hesitated for a moment, but still asked Uncle Lu in a low voice: "Is it temporary?"
"Yes, the minor complications caused by the surgery will soon be relieved." Ming Lu nodded. He remembered Ming Weiting's joke and laughed softly, "One or two hours."
Minglu explained the situation to him, and subconsciously looked up at the compartment behind the screen, which was still closed.
When Minglu said "young master", someone in the cubicle walked to the door and listened.
Ming Lu didn't give him too much water to drink. He just let him moisten his lips and throat a little, then put the cup aside: "You can recover faster if you communicate more. Do you want to get better quickly?"
Ming Chi certainly wanted to, but it was inconvenient for him to nod, so he just said "um" again: "Uncle Lu."
Minglu pulled a chair over and sat down next to the bed: "What's wrong?"
Ming Chi asked, "What is that?"
Looking in the direction he pointed, Ming Lu took Ming Weiting's computer and said, "This? It's a computer."
Ming Chi immediately remembered how to use a computer. He suddenly became interested in the game and asked another question: "What is this?"
"It's candy. You like it very much." Minglu smiled, "We always give it to you."
Although this condition would ease in an hour or two, Mingchi was so energetic once he woke up, and Minglu was willing to talk to him more.
Taking this opportunity, Minglu tried to say "we". Seeing that he didn't show any special expression, he felt relieved: "Who else do you want to know?"
Ming Chi blinked and looked at the piano bag beside the bed.
"It's the guitar. You play it very well." Minglu said, "You have very loyal fans."
Mingchi remembered more and more things - he could even feel that the information evoked by these words was slowly forming a web of clues in his mind. This feeling was very novel, and he tried to continue following this web.
Minglu was able to quickly find where his gaze was and answer him accurately.
"The pencil you used to sketch on the note."
"The conch, the handicraft you made before, you gave it to someone, and it will make a sound when you shake it."
“The pavilions made of shells, the handicrafts, the gifts you received.”
"Hangers are used to hang clothes..."
…
Minglu answered one by one, and finally gradually realized the common points between these things, and his answering speed slowed down a little.
Ming Chi was looking towards the corner of the room.
There was a clothes hanger there - he had just remembered the term and associated it with its function. His eyes moved up along the clothes rack, paused, and looked at Uncle Lu beside him.
"Coat." Ming Lu did not explain the word. He paused and was silent for a while. Suddenly he smiled, "Huo Miao, what do you want to ask?"
After answering this question, Minglu realized that he had subconsciously said the word "flame". He felt a little nervous and carefully watched his reaction.
After hearing this word, the young man lowered his eyes and thought seriously for a while.
"Flame." Mingchi said slowly, "Coat."
His voice was steady, even with a soft, bright warmth, as if these two words were particularly special.
It is so special that as long as you can find a way to connect these two words on another level - a non-logical, non-information level, you can get another sentence.
Ming Chi asked, "Are we waiting for him?"
The ward suddenly became quiet. Minglu walked up to him and squatted down.
"I don't have a headache, my emotions are stable." Ming Chi saw what Uncle Lu was going to do at a glance. He just couldn't think of anything for the time being, but his logical thinking was very clear. "This is a very happy thing."
Happy, but blurry, with barely any recognizable trace.
He couldn't find any words that spelled out the answer. Uncle Lu said that he had just had an operation, and after the operation he had to take good care of his body, so there was no need to be impatient.
He promised someone that he would take good care of his health, so he just sat here and waited without going to look for her yet.
…It doesn’t matter if you don’t look for it.
A lot of repetition and recitation always has some other effects - for example, when a sentence has been repeated so many times that it can be blurted out without thinking, the mouth and throat are purely responsible for saying it.
Ming Chi repeated these words over and over again, and then his mouth brought out the word that he had memorized too many times in time: "Mr. Shadow."
Flame, coat, Mr. Shadow.
Ming Chi fluently recited in a low voice: "When will Mr. Shadow come back?"
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