Just after the divorce, my wife begged for reconciliation

Chapter 459 I Will Definitely Not Use a Rescue Needle on a Dead Person

Ye Changqing had finished reading this page.

But he frowned.

I felt scared even in my own home.

Is this...is this a psychological problem?

What happened during the day?

Reach out and turn the page.

Continue reading the diary:

Everything that happened this morning is playing in my mind frame by frame like a movie.

In the morning, I just arrived at the hospital when my cousin called me suddenly.

My cousin Yang Chenyu is from my aunt's family. He is fifteen years older than me and started working after graduating from junior high school. He also got married early and his son is already sixteen years old this year.

I answered the phone and casually said hello: "Hello, cousin."

My cousin’s hoarse voice came from the phone: “Chunlai, where are you?

Have you arrived at the hospital?"

I suddenly had a bad feeling: "Brother, I'm in the hospital?

What's wrong? "

My cousin’s hoarse voice on the phone was filled with urgency: “Hurry…come quickly…come to the operating room of the inpatient department.

The fifth operating room.

It’s hard to explain over the phone.”

My head was buzzing and it felt like ten thousand bees were flying around it.

I knew something was wrong. I didn't have time to ask who it was.

I said hello to my colleagues and quickly ran to the inpatient department.

My mind was in a mess along the way and I didn't dare to make any random guesses.

I couldn't even wait for the elevator to come down from the roof, so I ran all the way to the eighth floor.

When I ran to the fifth operating room.

I saw my cousin sitting on the ground at the door of the operating room with red eyes.

I hurried forward and grabbed my cousin, trying to pull him up and sit him on the chair next to me.

But my cousin was reluctant to get up: "Pull me first, I'm sitting on the ground to feel more comfortable."

I let go of his hand and asked anxiously, "Brother, who... who is in the operating room?"

My instinctive feeling was that it was my aunt. She was old and had a heart disease.

If rescue is not timely, the consequences will be disastrous.

My cousin's voice trembled a little: "

I bought medicine in your hospital yesterday morning, but unexpectedly the original medicine was sold out.

Got us a new medicine.

The doctor said that only the name of the medicine has changed, but the efficacy has not changed.

I thought as long as the disease could be cured, it would be fine.

But I don’t know what’s going on.

I took the medicine last night and something went wrong.

I entered the operating room last night and haven't left it yet.

I felt something was wrong, so I called you right away."

I was also shocked. I had already been in the operating room all night.

My heart suddenly jumped into my throat. "He was taken to the hospital yesterday, why did you call this morning?"

I regretted asking this question. Now is not the time to talk about this.

My cousin said with a bitter face, “I thought it would only take an hour or two, medical technology is so advanced nowadays.

There will be no accidents.

I didn’t expect it to take this long.”

I didn't have time to dwell on these things, so I walked to the door of the operating room and raised my hand to knock.

His hands were raised in the air, but did not fall.

I'm worried about the surgery being done at this time.

A knock on the door disturbed the doctor inside.

In the end, I can only continue to wait.

Time passed by minute by minute.

I felt like a skewer of lamb being roasted on a stove. It was excruciating.

My aunt was very kind to me when I was a child.

Every time he comes, he buys me food and often buys me clothes.

I don't know what my mother looks like.

In my mind, my aunt looks just like my mother.

One hour.

Two hours.

Another five hours passed.

I couldn't bear it any longer and didn't even have the strength to sit on the bench against the wall.

Like my cousin, I sat on the ground.

I had just sat down when the door of the operating room suddenly opened.

I got up excitedly and quickly asked the doctor who came out, "Doctor, how is it?"

The doctor looked at me and said, "You're not a family member, why are you so nervous?"

I frowned, probably because of my white coat.

He thought I was a colleague.

Just as I was about to explain my identity, my cousin came over and said, "Doctor, I'm a family member.

How is my mother?

The doctor sighed and said regretfully, "I tried my best."

After saying that, he threw away his gloves, shook his head and was about to leave.

I suddenly felt like someone stabbed my heart.

The pain was so severe that my whole body was twitching.

puff~

Next to me, my cousin fell to the ground and fainted.

I was so scared that I went over to check. Fortunately, he had just fainted. After calling out a few times, my cousin opened his eyes.

She burst into tears. She stood up and walked towards the operating room crying, "Mom, why did you die when you were fine?

Wuwuwu..."

The doctor who had just performed the operation grabbed my cousin and said, “You can’t go in.

Because it was an operation, the scene was quite bloody.

You have to be clean before you can go in."

My cousin sat on the ground, crying inconsolably.

I wanted to persuade my cousin, but I didn't say anything and walked towards the operating room in a daze.

The doctor just now grabbed me and asked: "Which department are you from?"

I didn't know why they asked me that, so I casually replied, "Outpatient clinic."

The doctor nodded and said, "It's been a night, you're tired and hungry, it would be better if you go in and replace them." I knew he misunderstood and thought I was replacing them.

I'm too lazy to clarify.

I want to see my aunt.

I entered the operating room and suddenly the door closed behind me.

The doctor's voice sounded outside the door, trying to stop my cousin: "Family members are not allowed in. You just wait here."

I didn't know why he stopped me and continued to walk inside.

When I entered the inner room, I saw the operating table covered with a blue surgical cloth.

Under the operating light on the ceiling, the blue cloth was dazzlingly bright.

Two doctors were writing some forms next to them, and two nurses were sitting there browsing their phones.

A doctor saw me coming, put down his pen, picked up a body bag from the side and said, "Please help me put the body into the body bag."

I ignored him, walked to the operating table, and reached out to lift the blue cloth.

My aunt's pale face was revealed.

I felt even more sad and reached out to touch my aunt's cheek.

The tentacles felt cold, and the skin was already stiff. I couldn't help but exclaimed, "Why is it hard?"

A person who has just died still has body temperature and the body is soft.

I came in just as the doctor left.

This shouldn't happen.

The doctor holding the body bag glanced at me as if I were an amateur and said, "He died at ten o'clock last night.

It would be strange if the corpse wasn't hard!"

Ten o'clock?

How could it be ten o'clock?

My eyes widened when I heard this: "Didn't he just die?"

The doctor who was writing something nearby said, "It's written in the surgical log that he died just now."

I heard a little more information: "The patient died at 10 o'clock last night.

But the log says he just died, right?"

The doctor who was busy writing in his diary said, "That's right.

The log shows that it was ten o'clock last night, which was exactly the time when the first imported rescue needle was used.

The second imported rescue needle was used at five o'clock this morning.

Just used the third one.

He died despite rescue efforts.”

I was horrified when I heard this and muttered, "He died at 10 o'clock last night, why did he need three imported life-saving injections?"

The doctor writing in the diary said without looking up: "The patient died at ten o'clock yesterday.

I definitely won't use a life-saving injection on a dead person.

It's just that the surgical log has to be written this way." I was a little dazed, as if I had guessed something, but I didn't dare to think about it.

Because this matter is too unbelievable.

“Why does it have to be written in the surgical log?”

The doctor holding the body bag saw that I kept asking questions and said impatiently:

“You don’t have to give the injection, but you must keep a log, and it must clearly state the time when the imported emergency injection was used.

Otherwise, how can we keep it consistent with the bill?"