This Doctor Is Too Wealthy
Chapter 81 - 081 Intracranial hemorrhage

Chapter 81: 081 Intracranial hemorrhage

Du Heng, clutching his aching waist, followed the crowd out. Du Fei asked in a low voice, "Xiao Heng, will this man be all right?"

Du Heng glanced worriedly at Zhang Xi, who was being carried ahead. "It’s hard to say right now; we need to observe him. But with such a large beam hitting his forehead, I’m quite concerned."

"What are you worried about?"

"I’m afraid he has a cerebral hemorrhage. If so, it’ll be very troublesome. We still don’t know if the road has been cleared. If it has, he can be taken straight to the hospital. Even if there’s blood accumulation in his brain, surgery can be performed. But if the road is still blocked, given our current conditions, his survival will likely depend on luck."

Du Fei also sighed. "Is there nothing you can do?"

"All I can say is I’ll do my best."

The two fell silent, following behind the main group.

When they emerged from the village ruins, Du Heng saw that many people had gathered at the edge of the village.

Some people in orange uniforms were already engaged in disaster relief. Others, dressed in shirts and jackets and covered in mud, stood stupefied at the edge of the village, gazing at the scene before them.

Some of them Du Heng didn’t recognize; they all looked surprised, bewildered, and angry. However, he knew some of them quite well—they were workers from the Township Government office next to the Health Clinic. They all looked frightened and terrified.

Du Heng glanced at them but paid them no mind, instead directing the others to carry Zhang Xi into his vehicle.

Honestly, Du Heng felt he really should thank Wei Kaida. If Wei Kaida hadn’t lent him the vehicle last night, many things would have been delayed. Moreover, the uluxury off-road vehicle was spacious enough for him to get Zhang Xi inside and transport him back to the clinic.

Carried on the early morning breeze, Du Heng vaguely heard someone say, "Where did the 3 million yuan special fund for old and dilapidated house renovation go? I want that report on my desk by this afternoon."

Du Heng glanced back and, through the crowd, thought he saw someone slump to the ground.

This has nothing to do with me, Du Heng thought as he got into the car. He needed to look after Zhang Xi and also call Song.

Du Fei, accustomed to driving a Wuling Hongguang, was handling such a vehicle for the first time and drove with extreme caution. From Du Heng’s phone, he also heard the new Dean’s roar.

It was some distance from Shang Ling Village to Duke Village. At times like these, everyone appreciated the country’s good policies, such as the wide, flat asphalt road that allowed them to drive comfortably.

With a good car and a smooth road, even though Du Fei drove slowly, it only took them a little over ten minutes to reach his clinic.

The two of them struggled to get Zhang Xi into the clinic.

Du Fei sighed in relief, but Du Heng’s expression turned grave as he watched Zhang Xi’s convulsing throat. Before he could say anything, Zhang Xi, who had just been moved, started to vomit. The stench of overnight alcohol mixed with food almost made Du Heng and Du Fei retch as well.

They quickly grabbed masks and put them on, but the masks didn’t seem very effective against the stench. Du Fei then went to open all the doors and windows of the clinic.

Du Heng, mask on, could no longer be bothered by the nauseating smell. He immediately rushed to Zhang Xi’s side.

At this point, Zhang Xi was continuously gagging and vomiting. Because the vomiting was involuntary, he didn’t expel all of it. Instead, much of the vomit flowed back down his throat, triggering a coughing fit.

Du Heng ignored the foul odor. He quickly turned Zhang Xi’s head to the side, pried open his mouth, and used his other hand to clear the filth from the man’s oral cavity.

After cleaning him out and once Zhang Xi’s breathing became unobstructed, he still showed signs of frequent nausea.

Du Fei was dumbfounded; he had never seen such a condition and asked Du Heng in a panic, "Xiao Heng, what’s happening to him?"

Du Heng’s expression was exceptionally grim; what he had feared most had indeed happened. Intracranial hemorrhage!

"Fei, take his blood pressure."

Although Du Heng was fairly certain it was an intracranial hemorrhage, he still needed to confirm the patient’s vital signs. After instructing Du Fei, Du Heng quickly grabbed the stethoscope and began his examination. When he saw the blood pressure reading Du Fei had taken, any lingering hope vanished.

Just then, Du Fei’s father, having received the news, rushed over from their house. This was the first time his clinic had dealt with such a severe head injury, and it was the first such case he had encountered in his life. Nervous and unsure, but especially concerned for the two young men, he had hurried over.

As he stepped into the clinic, he heard Du Heng giving instructions, "Fei, the patient has an intracranial hemorrhage and is vomiting. We need to dispel blood stasis and promote new blood generation, and soothe his stomach to stop the vomiting. Give him 6g of bupleurum, asarum..."

He rattled off the names of six or seven medicinal herbs without a moment’s hesitation. Then, after a brief pause, he added, "Also add coptis and prepared pinellia. Quickly."

Du Fei’s foundational knowledge was solid; he remembered all the herbs Du Heng listed. The moment Du Heng finished speaking, Du Fei was already pulling open drawers to retrieve them.

Their coordination was so smooth and efficient it stunned Du Fei’s father, who had just entered. He had only thought it was a head injury, not an intracranial hemorrhage, and stood there, momentarily at a loss. Truthfully, he wouldn’t have known what to do anyway.

Du Heng took out his needle tool kit, which hadn’t been sterilized yet, quickly wiped it down with the clinic’s alcohol cotton, and prepared to administer acupuncture again.

Catching a glance at Du Fei’s father standing by the door, Du Heng called out, "Mr. Hai, come over and help me hold his arm so he doesn’t thrash about."

"Oh, oh, okay," Mr. Hai responded in a fluster and quickly walked over.

Du Heng took a moment to compose himself, then, holding a needle in each hand, inserted them into the PC-06 acupoints on both wrists simultaneously.

After adjusting the needles for some time, Zhang Xi still showed signs of nausea. Du Heng then stopped stimulating the PC-06 points and instead inserted needles into the ST-36 and CV-12 acupoints.

Only after about three or four minutes did Zhang Xi’s nausea completely subside. Du Heng felt a wave of relief. He stimulated the acupoints for a short while longer before finally removing the needles.

Seeing Du Heng finish, Du Fei’s father hesitantly asked, "Xiao Heng, how is the patient’s condition?"

Looking at Zhang Xi, who was beginning to regain consciousness, Du Heng didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he took the needles he had just removed and walked to a quieter spot.

Then he whispered, "The patient most likely has an intracranial hemorrhage. I’ve prescribed some medicine to disperse blood stasis and promote new blood generation. If it’s not too severe, he might recover on his own. My biggest fear is a skull fracture with continued bleeding; that would be very difficult. Our clinic isn’t equipped for further treatment in that case."

Du Fei’s father’s heart pounded. He was worried about the patient’s condition, but even more terrified that the patient might die in his clinic. If the patient really died in my clinic, my business would likely be finished, he thought. Although the circumstances are unusual and the higher-ups probably wouldn’t hold me responsible, I still have to face the local villagers. If word got out that someone died at this clinic, it’s doubtful anyone would ever come through these doors again.

"How could it be this severe?"

"He was hit on the head by a roof beam from his own house," Du Heng explained. "It’s a miracle he wasn’t killed instantly."

"Hit by a main beam?" Du Fei’s father exclaimed in surprise. He knew all too well what those main beams were. Older houses all had main beams, typically made from a single, long, thick log. Even the shortest ones were at least three meters long, and their weight was considerable.