When He Hongchi first saw the penicillin extraction method written by Wenwen in the notebook, he didn't believe it.
Is this the penicillin that foreigners exchanged 0.12 grams for several gold bars a few years ago?
He was so called a miracle doctor that he was depressed for several days before he comforted himself. What else could he do if he still couldn't figure it out? Even if someone offered him a cartload of gold in exchange for penicillin made from Penicillium mold, he wouldn't be able to produce it. This is technology.
He Hongchi now used the same stubbornness he had when he was studying medicine to fight against this penicillin. He didn't believe that he couldn't make it even though he already knew the detailed production steps. If others knew about it, his career as a miracle doctor would be over.
While the master and apprentice were scratching their heads over how to make penicillin, anti-inflammatory drugs were also effectively tested.
A hospital in Beijing: "Director, thirty-three critically ill patients have died today."
The dean sat down on a chair, covering his face with his hands in frustration. "How many severe cases have increased?"
The middle-aged doctor said solemnly: "There are 65 more critically ill patients today than yesterday." That is to say, if these 65 people are not treated today, they will die tomorrow.
The middle-aged doctor looked haggard. If Wenwen saw him, she would recognize that this was the handsome uncle who treated her when she first came here. Now he is not handsome at all.
"Dean, aren't the higher-ups doing anything about this? If this continues, everyone will die."
"Why not do anything? But can we do anything about it? There are no effective medicines, and we can only rely on fighting to the death. That's all we can do." People with poor resistance will die if they can't resist, and those who survive can only be considered lucky.
The dean rubbed his face and said, "You should also be careful not to get infected. There are not many doctors in the hospital, and there are still so many patients." Many medical staff in the hospital also died.
"How could this happen?" The doctor slumped on the ground. He was extremely tired and hadn't slept for two days.
This is a war without the smoke of gunpowder. According to incomplete statistics from Beijing, 20,000 to 30,000 people have died in this epidemic. Everyone faces enormous challenges and tests. The virus spreads relentlessly, not only devouring the lives of ordinary people, but also taking the precious lives of many medical staff.
The hospital and the wards were filled with an atmosphere of tension and sadness. Every day, many people who had been alive the day before were covered with white sheets and carried away.
The dean looked at the doctor's pale face with concern: "You should go to sleep quickly. It will be very dangerous if your body's resistance is poor." Now is different from usual. People with poor resistance are more likely to be infected with diseases.
Sadness filled the doctor's eyes. "Director, I might have been infected too." He smiled sadly. "My son is getting married soon, and it looks like I won't be able to see him start a family."
He now felt trembling all over, had a splitting headache, and an uncontrollable feeling of nausea.
The dean stood up suddenly and staggered towards him: "You can't be in trouble. Even you are in trouble..." The dean wanted to help him up.
"Dean, please don't come over here. Don't let me infect you too."
"Do you think I can escape? I'll just die." The dean helped him sit on the chair.
I just didn’t expect that if he didn’t die on the battlefield that year, he might die from the plague now.
"Dean, Dean..." The young nurse's voice came from outside.
The young nurse came to the office and tried to suppress her voice: "Director, the People's Liberation Army has arrived outside. They said they are delivering medicine and need you to go and receive it."
"Really? Where is it?" This was the best news I had heard in the past few days. The dean put on a mask and left in a hurry.
A military jeep stopped at the hospital entrance, and a soldier wearing a mask saluted the dean.
"This is a special anti-inflammatory drug newly developed by Renxin Pharmaceutical Factory. It has not undergone clinical trials, so we don't know whether it will be effective for this inflammatory membrane disease. The hospital was told to use it on critically ill patients first, and any results must be reported to us. This is our phone number." The PLA handed the dean a piece of paper with the number written on it, and then gave him a small box.
The PLA soldiers saluted and said, "We still have medicine to deliver to other hospitals."
The dean held the box, and his joy faded again. It was just a small amount of medicine, and it had not been tested in clinical trials.
The dean returned to his office, put the medicine on the table, took out a bottle from the box, poured out a pill and took a look at it. The medicine was very rough and it was obvious that it was made in a hurry.
He handed the medicine to the middle-aged doctor who was still sitting in the chair. "This is a newly developed special anti-inflammatory drug. It hasn't been clinically tested yet. If it works, you will be the first test subject."
The doctor tried hard to suppress the urge to vomit and felt dizzy: "Which pharmaceutical company produced this?" He put the medicine into his mouth and chewed it without taking it with water.
The dean looked at the empty medicine bottle and said, "Renxin Pharmaceutical Factory." That's what the People's Liberation Army would say, right?
"What? Is it really Renxin Pharmaceutical Factory?" The doctor was a little excited when he heard it.
The dean nodded.
"Hurry up and distribute the medicine." The doctor was anxious.
The director called the head nurse and said, "Give this medicine to the critically ill patient. Record the patient's reaction and report it to me at any time." The director left two bottles and gave the box to the head nurse.
"Is Renxin Pharmaceutical Factory really that powerful? You're so excited."
The doctor signaled to the dean to pour him a glass of water, saying that the medicine was too bitter.
The dean stuffed the cup into his hand, and the good boy was ordering the old man around.
The doctor drank a few sips of water. Maybe it was because the medicine was too bitter, but he no longer felt like vomiting.
"You don't remember! The two granules in the hospital are produced by Renxin Pharmaceutical Factory. They also released two new drugs this year, but their production capacity is too low. Our hospital is still waiting for orders. According to feedback from other hospitals, the effects are very good."
The dean finally understood. No wonder the medicine was delivered directly by the military district. It was said that there were people from higher-ups behind this pharmaceutical factory.
"Does that mean this medicine should be effective?"
The doctor nodded. "That's right, judging by the quality of this pharmaceutical company."
The dean stared at him with a smile on his face.
doctor……
"How do you feel now? You're the first one to take the medicine, and you're a doctor, so you have to feel it carefully."
"Dean, this is an anti-inflammatory drug, not a panacea." How could it work so quickly?
"But I see that your complexion has improved a lot. It's been a quarter of an hour since you took it. The good herbs should have taken effect."
"I don't know if it's a psychological effect, but I really wanted to vomit, but the feeling went down as soon as I took this medicine." The doctor began to comment.
"That's good, that's good, it's really great." The dean rubbed his hands and walked back and forth, his joy beyond words.
He suddenly sat back at his desk and took out a pen and paper. "Tell me again how you felt and what changes happened after taking the medicine. From now on, I will be your clinician responsible for taking medication after you get infected."
Middle-aged doctor...
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