They Regretted it After Their Hearts Turned to Ashes

Xun Zhen was finally able to breathe a sigh of relief.

Probably all the accidents that could have happened have been eliminated from the operation, and all the good news came out of the intensive care unit.

Each awakening was successful, no leakage of cerebrospinal fluid, normal hearing and vision, normal limb response, and simple answering.

There was no suffocation and respiratory dysfunction, and the vital signs remained stable.

Although a large amount of blood loss, the bleeding should be stopped in time and completely, there will be no secondary bleeding and hematoma, and no irreversible damage to the nerves...

The intensive care unit wakes up the patient every 20 minutes, and Dean Xun will explain the situation every 20 minutes.

Going back and forth like this until late at night, even he himself felt too disturbed, he hesitated at the door of the lounge: "...Mr. Ming?"

"Quick." Ming Lu's expression became more and more relaxed, he put down his pocket watch and nodded with a smile, "Sir is waiting for you."

Xun Zhen breathed a sigh of relief, walked quickly into the lounge, and roughly explained the next arrangements with Ming Weiting.

"Ming—" Xun Zhen's heart was basically settled, and he was finally able to pronounce the name without hesitation, "Ming Chi."

I have to say that these two words together are indeed far more compatible than the previous combination.

If he was asked to pick whatever name he wanted, he would definitely pick a name that looked bright and dignified.

"So far, there have been no complications and no signs of infection." Xun Zhen said, "I was observed in the intensive care unit overnight because I wanted to give him an analgesic pump for a while longer."

Xun Zhen hesitated for a while, but added: "Now we must strictly ensure emotional stability. The nurse didn't ask him anything more, but just made the simplest basic conversation with him... I can't judge the memory damage for the time being."

"It's okay." Ming Weiting nodded, "It's work."

"It was originally our responsibility."

Seeing that he didn't care, Xun Zhen breathed a sigh of relief and shook his head quickly: "There may be cerebral edema in the early morning, and the blood loss is too much to avoid, but it will not be too serious. When the swelling is stable, you can go back to the ward, and there will be people paying attention at any time. "

He quickly explained the rest of the words: "The next step is to recuperate, recuperate, and be careful not to cause intracranial infection... The operation time has been controlled as much as possible, and the operation during the operation is also cautious, and there should be no infection."

"The little girl's surgery followed him, and it was quite successful." Xun Zhen said with a smile, "It's called Yishun Baishun here. The next operating table will be very lucky, it's the good luck that he brought, look back. Gotta give him a red envelope."

Ming Weiting looked at Ming Lu, who nodded: "There is indeed such a saying, sir."

This is true in the hospital. It is okay to say that it is a bit superstitious to ask for a lottery, or that there are psychological factors.

After all, if the first operation of the day is a great success, the back of the operating table will become smoother and smoother, and most patients who go up will be safe and smooth.

Minglu explained it briefly, and added: "There is another way of saying that if even the doctor is in the mood to joke, it means that he is out of danger, and there will be basically no problems in the future."

Xun Zhen nodded along, and he realized that he seemed to have forgotten to say this sentence, and quickly added: "Actually, it can be judged to be out of danger now, it basically doesn't matter."

After he finished saying this, seeing Ming Weiting finally showing a relaxed look, his heart finally settled down.

- Even after the successful operation, Xun Zhen and the team at the psychological direction were worried about it.

Such cases are not rare. After brain surgery, patients and those around them may not be able to accept the consequences of memory impairment and adapt to their new life.

But now it doesn't seem like it matters much anymore.

Dean Xun's footsteps finally relaxed, and quickly left the lounge.

The other side also went well. The next morning, the intensive care unit sent the person back to the ward safely.

…

The only thing that didn't go well was the head of the Ming family.

After the night passed, Ming Lu still failed to persuade Ming Weiting to rest.

Director Ming, who was nearly seventy years old, no longer had the physical strength to accompany his predecessor for three days and three nights. He woke up after sleeping with clothes for half the night, and saw Ming Weiting still sitting beside the hospital bed.

Mingweiting's posture was slightly different from before, and his body seemed to be relaxed. Ming Lu Fang approached quietly and found more differences.

The hospital bed, which was empty before, was already lying down again this time.

Ming Lu squatted down and checked the data card on the new hospital bed.

He straightened the information card, and when he saw Ming Weiting looking over, he smiled and said softly, "Ming Chi."

Ming Weiting's expression was much more relaxed than before. Hearing the name, he also smiled slightly. He nodded and looked at the man sleeping peacefully on the hospital bed.

"Ming Chi."

With a new name, the young master of the Ming family closed his eyes, one hand was held by Ming Weiting, and the indwelling needle in the other hand was connected to the pain pump. His breathing was long and steady, and he was sleeping soundly.

Ming Lu asked softly, "Have you woken up yet?"

Ming Weiting nodded. He had asked Xun Zhen, so he was not in a hurry at all, and said in a low voice, "I'm too tired, so I need to sleep a little longer."

Ming Lu stood up and walked lightly to the bedside.

In private, he and his husband have actually said this name many times, so it doesn't feel strange at all.

The "Ming" of the Ming family was not entirely inherited by blood, but a group of people who were originally in the shadows gathered together and lit a bonfire to turn the darkness into light, so it was passed down like this.

Ming Chi slept beside Mr.

—There is nothing special about this sentence at all. It's like a most common sentence, but it's just talking about the situation at hand.

The young master of the Ming family passed the life-and-death battle, and is now sleeping well beside his husband.

But it seems to be special because it is normal.

It's so special that it makes people think about the hours of yesterday, and then pulls their minds back to the front, and they can't help but find something to thank.

The Ming family has always had no faith, so Ming Lu decided to refer to Xun Zhen's method, and went back to send all the red envelopes to 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 down and put his forehead on the hand he was holding.

Minglu walked over and squatted down, whispering, "Sir."

"I'm not thinking about anything." Ming Weiting knew what Uncle Lu was going to ask, and shook his head slightly, "I just want to thank him very much."

After coming out of the intensive care unit, the patient has basically been confirmed to be out of danger, and some situations during the operation were finally informed to the family members.

Inadequate intraoperative anesthesia was the biggest accident, and it was difficult to detect by any examination. In the event of agitation, struggle or even awakening during surgery, it may bring unimaginable consequences.

But no matter how the heart rate monitor alarmed, it never stopped. That heart beat more firmly than any surgical simulation.

It seemed that it was because he made an appointment that Jue Rou would not stop this time, so he kept jumping to show him.

"The young master woke up and knew this, he must be very proud."

Minglu already had experience, so he reminded in a low voice, "Sir, remember to tell him."

Ming Weiting responded, he still maintained that posture, resting his forehead on the hand quietly.

He closed his eyes motionless, until Minglu almost thought he fell asleep like that, and got up to get a thin blanket, only to hear Mingweiting speak again: "Xun Zhen said."

Minglu stopped.

"When he woke up, he would be completely at a loss." Ming Weiting said, "I don't remember anything."

Ming Weiting continued in a slow voice: "There is too much blood loss, and mild cerebral edema occurred in the early morning. Although it subsided quickly, it will still lead to short-term cognitive impairment."

Ming Lu's expression turned solemn, and asked in a low voice, "How short?"

"One to two hours." Ming Weiting paused for a while before slowly opening his mouth, "There are no sequelae, analogous to ordinary people, it's like being drowsy."

Ming Lu's heart dropped with a thud, and he stood with his mouth open for a long time. Suddenly, he noticed that Mr. Ming, who was bowing his head, had an extraordinarily inconspicuous smile, half surprised and half funny: "When did you learn to joke?"

Ming Lu quickly reacted, and before Ming Weiting could answer, he nodded his head first: "Yeah, I've learned from the young master these days... I've been nervous all day and night, so I'm here to scare the old man."

Ming Weiting's expression finally relaxed completely. He slowly held that hand, raised his head with a smile, and looked at the headmaster of the Ming family, who had always been calm and steady: "When did Uncle Lu learn to joke?"

Minglu would have been joking, but he was too old to be like a young man.

He hadn't had such an easy time for many years, and he followed these two young people to see that this matter was completely settled, and even sincerely looked forward to the next days: "These days." Ming Lu said with a smile, "I learned from the young master. "

The smile in Ming Weiting's eyes became more obvious, and he raised his hand and touched the earlobe of the young master: "So powerful."

Ming Lu had asked Xun Zhen before that as long as people woke up, they could take a small amount of water to eat, so he also took out a piece of peach candy from his pocket and put it by the hospital bed: "It's so powerful."

Ming Weiting looked at the candy. He sat quietly for a while, and finally removed his palm, put the warmed hand back into the quilt, and carefully covered the edge of the quilt.

He took all these things very seriously, and after everything was done, he bent his fingers and tapped those quiet, closed eyelashes.

Ming Weiting stood up, he sat beside the bed for too long, and stopped for a few seconds before relieving the numbness in his legs: "Uncle Lu."

Minglu looked at his actions and came back to his senses: "Sir?"

"I'll go inside and tell me immediately if anything happens." Ming Weiting said, "It's hard for you to take care of him for the time being."

The "inside" he said was a separate compartment in the single ward, which was provided for the accompanying family members to rest.

The area of ​​the compartment is not large, behind the screen in the corner of the ward, once the door is closed, the outside can hardly be seen.

Ming Lu was stunned for a moment. After he pondered for a while, he immediately reacted: "What else did Xun Zhen say? Sir, after all, he doesn't fully understand the situation, and some things can be discussed in combination with the specific situation."

Ming Weiting shook his head: "What he said is very reasonable, and I agree."

After confirming Ming Weiting's attitude, Xun Zhen spoke with a lot more courage, and further elaborated with him on the most suitable plan for early postoperative recovery of such patients with memory impairment.

The most taboo for brain surgery patients is mood swings. Any change in mood, even slightly drastic, can lead to increased intracranial pressure and instability of the hemostatic point that has not yet healed.

To achieve the best prognosis, of course, such mood swings should be avoided as much as possible.

"Mingchi's situation." Xun Zhen said, "It's not certain how much memory he has left... But in the medical records, he had a situation where he had forcibly recalled a headache before."

Xun Zhen hesitated for a while, but still whispered: "We are somewhat worried."

- The young master of the Ming family who wakes up, if they see someone who doesn't remember at all, but must remember them anyway, will they go to look for memories desperately? They don't have much confidence in this matter.

After listening, Ming Lu didn't know what to say, but he couldn't help frowning slowly.

"It's just that during this time, when his physical condition is completely stable, he no longer has such concerns."

Ming Weiting briefly explained that he did not think this incident would lead to any change in principle: "Uncle Lu, I have made a ninety-five-page plan, and I will chase him sooner or later."

Minglu immediately remembered the 95-page plan that was too detailed, half a headache and half a laugh, so he nodded: "Yes."

Ming Lu can probably guess that the "chasing him" in Ming Weiting's mouth is a shorthand for "chasing his star".

After all, he had to say so many words every time, which really didn't fit the taciturn personality of this gentleman from the Ming family. As for whether this statement has any other meaning... Even if there is, it is unlikely to appear in Mingwei Pavilion's knowledge reserve.

But this time Minglu didn't plan to correct him, he just gave him a piece of peach candy: "Sir, work hard."

Ming Weiting nodded solemnly: "I'll take it down."

Ming Lu couldn't help laughing this time. He really wanted Mingwei Ting to sleep for a few hours, and he didn't make any further comments on this arrangement. He sat down beside the bed and watched the door of the compartment closed gently.

…

In the hours after that, Minglu sat in the chair beside the hospital bed, thinking about a lot of things.

In fact, he often felt that his husband seemed to be influenced by the young master, and he had changed a lot - this kind of change was very comfortable. It's probably because it's too comfortable, so if you want to stop here abruptly and start over, you'll always regret it.

But this kind of worry is indeed very reasonable, so even if it is somewhat regrettable, it does not seem to be completely unacceptable.

After all, that was a ninety-five page plan.

Don't talk about chasing stars, even chasing people can be accomplished.

Minglu didn't plan to remind Mingweiting specifically. But he did plan to find an opportunity to sort out the stories of the previous generation of Mr. and Mrs., and to find an opportunity to be dragged to play Truth or Dare again, as a story to tell to the two of them.

The old gentleman only became serious after the death of his wife, and he was actually very energetic when he was young. At that time, Ming Lu was also young, and he helped to come up with a lot of quite romantic methods, and finally let his wife jump on the ship with her suitcase and skirt.

Of course, the two situations are not the same, but if it can be said in a timely manner, it may provide some inspiration and inspiration for Mr.

Ming Lu came back to his senses, he noticed the movement on the hospital bed, got up and walked over quickly: "Little Master?"

The man on the bed slowly opened his eyes, looked around for a while with some difficulty, his expression was blank, and he wanted to sit up with one hand.

The strength in Ming Lu's hand was gentle, he stopped his movements in time, and raised the hospital bed slightly: "Your name is Ming Chi, you are sick and just had an operation."

Those eyes blinked twice, and then repeated: "Ming Chi."

"Ming Chi." Ming Lu nodded, took off the data card by the bedside, and showed it to him, "Do you like it?"

Obviously like it.

Even though everything was blank for a while, after recognizing these two words, the blankness in those eyes almost quickly faded, and then they lit up.

Minglu adjusted the height of the hospital bed and saw that even his ears became a little red, he couldn't help wondering: "What's wrong?"

"I like it." He replied softly, "Why does it sound so nice."

He sat there by himself, took out the cautious look of opening a gift, and repeated these two words over and over again.

Ming Lu laughed and called him softly, letting him get used to the name: "Ming Chi."

The young man whose name was called leaned on the hospital bed, his face was bloodless, and his body that had been recuperated with great care was also squeezed out by a major operation, but his eyes still brightened with the name: "It's calling me."

"I'm calling you." Ming Lu smiled and nodded, "Ming Chi."

His eyes suddenly curled up, and although he couldn't make too much noise, he still made a strong "um".

Minglu accompanies him to practice back and forth several times until he is completely used to the habit.

It is only a short-term reversible cognitive impairment and will not affect its own personality. Ming Lu kept his expression mild, brought the water over, and held Ming Chi's hand to help him hold it steady: "You call me Uncle Lu."

Ming Chi rolled his eyes and raised his head.

"I'm here to take care of you, you can ask me anything..." Ming Lu stopped halfway through, "What's the matter?"

Ming Chi looked at the thing that was stuffed into his hand.

Recalling the possible special circumstances of cognitive impairment, Ming Lu pondered for a while and explained to him: "This is a cup with water in it to quench thirst."

Minglu helped him lift the water glass up and put it against his lips: "Take a sip slowly, don't drink too much."

Ming Chi called out "Uncle Lu" first, and then followed what he said and slowly took a sip of water.

He hadn't drank water for more than 48 hours. He relied on a hanging bottle for rehydration. He tried to swallow the water. His thirst-scorching throat was instantly cool and comfortable, and his eyes lit up again.

"I have a point." Ming Chi thought for a while, "Named aphasia."

His thinking and logic are still normal, but he can't remember anything for the time being. He can't remember anyone's name, and he can't say what the things around him are called.

Mingchi hesitated for a while, but asked Uncle Lu in a low voice, "Is it temporary?"

"Yes, the minor complications caused by the operation will soon be relieved." Ming Lu nodded, he remembered Ming Weiting's joke again, and smiled lightly, "An hour or two."

Minglu explained the situation to him, then subconsciously raised his head and looked at the compartment with the door still closed behind the screen.

When Ming Lu said "little master", someone in that compartment walked to the door and listened.

Minglu didn't give him too much water, let him moisten his lips and throat a little, and put the water glass aside: "If you communicate more, you can recover faster. Do you want to get better soon?"

Of course Mingchi thought, but it was inconvenient for him to nod his head, so he said "um" again: "Uncle Lu."

Minglu pulled over the chair and sat down beside the hospital bed: "What's wrong?"

Ming Chi asked, "What is that?"

Looking in the direction he pointed, Ming Lu brought Ming Weiting's computer over: "This? It's a computer."

Mingchi immediately remembered how to use the computer. He suddenly became interested in this 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 state can be relieved in an hour or two, Ming Chi is in such good spirits when he wakes up, and Ming Lu is willing to chat with him more.

Taking this opportunity, Minglu tried to say "we", and when he saw that he didn't show any special expression, he was relieved: "Which one do you want to know?"

Ming Chi blinked and looked at the piano bag beside the bed.

"It's the guitar, you play very well." Minglu said, "There are very loyal fans."

Ming Chi remembered more and more things - he could even feel that the information awakened by these words was slowly pulling a web of clues in his mind. This feeling was very novel, and he tried to continue walking along this web.

Ming Lu was able to quickly find where his line of sight was and answer him accurately.

"Pencil, you used to sketch on sticky notes."

"Conch, the handiwork you made before, you gave it to someone, and it would ring in a flash."

"Kiosks made of shells, handicrafts, gifts you received."

"A hanger, for hanging clothes..."

…

Minglu replied the same, and finally gradually realized the common ground of these things, and the speed of his answer slowed down a little.

Ming Chi was looking at the corner of the room.

There was a hanger there—he had just remembered the term and associated it with the hanger. His eyes moved up along the hanger, stopped, and looked at Uncle Lu beside him.

"Coat." Minglu didn't explain the word, he stopped and was silent for a while, then suddenly smiled, "Huo Miao, what exactly do you want to ask?"

After answering this sentence, Minglu realized that he subconsciously said "fire", his heart was slightly suspended, and he carefully checked his reaction.

After hearing the word, the young man lowered his eyes and thought for a while.

"Flame." Mingchi said slowly, "coat."

His voice was steady, even a little soft and bright, as if these two words were very special.

It is so special that as long as you can connect these two words at another level—the non-logical and non-information level, and find a way to connect them, you can get another sentence.

Ming Chi asked, "Are we waiting for him?"

The ward suddenly became quiet, Ming Lu walked up to him and squatted down.

"I don't have a headache, my mood is very stable." Ming Chi saw at a glance what Uncle Lu was going to do. He just couldn't remember 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 traces.

He couldn't find any words that spelled the answer. Uncle Lu said that he had just had an operation, and he had to take good care of his body after the operation, so he couldn't be in a hurry.

He promised a person to take good care of his body, so he sat here and waited, and didn't look for it.

...it doesn't matter if you don't look for it.

A lot of retelling and recitation always has other effects—like when a sentence has been said so many times that it can be blurted out without even thinking about it, it's just the mouth and throat that say it.

Mingchi recited these words back and forth, and then his mouth brought up the word that he had memorized too many times in time: "Mr. Shadow."

Flame, Coat, Mr. Shadow.

Mingchi whispered back smoothly: "When will Mr. Shadow come back?"