PDGUT - 44

Yan Ming’s voice sounded a little unnatural as he gazed at the warm milk on the coffee table. “You don’t have to cry.”

Sure enough, he mistook her teary eyes from yawning for being on the verge of tears again.

It was kind of funny.

But Yu Tian didn’t know whether it was because she was so exhausted that her thoughts were sluggish and her movements slow, or if there was some other reason. Her senses seemed deliberately slowed down. Everything felt like it had been put under a spell of slowness since Yan Ming sat so close to her.

While Yu Tian was lost in thought, a tissue appeared in front of her, held out by Yan Ming. His voice was indifferent, his gaze slightly averted. If not for the fact that Yu Tian was the only one in the room, it would almost seem like he was talking to someone else—

“Why do you always cry so much?”

But Yu Tian suddenly remembered the key question: “What about Chen Xi? If you stay with me, what will happen to her?”

Yan Ming awkwardly glanced at his phone before his expression brightened with realization. “Oh, she just messaged me. She said she won’t come tonight because she has too many clothes to sort.”

What? So she wasn’t coming after all?

That meant Yu Tian could finally let her guard down tonight!

At first, Yu Tian sighed in relief, feeling a bit elated, but then her anxiety quickly returned.

Was Chen Xi moving in? Just staying for a few days, and yet she needed an entire evening to sort clothes? Was she planning to stay indefinitely?

Still, since Chen Xi wasn’t coming tonight, Yu Tian figured she no longer had to force herself to stay awake.

She finished her milk, yawned again, and decided to go back to the guest room to sleep.

However, before she could even say goodnight to Yan Ming, his phone rang.

He stood up to answer the call. It seemed there was another critical patient at the hospital. After hanging up, Yan Ming’s face turned grim.

Yu Tian asked with concern, “What happened?”

Yan Ming’s voice was even heavier than his expression. “Little Ling suddenly took a turn for the worse and went into shock.”

Yu Tian’s heart sank. Although Little Ling had already lost one eye, Yu Tian never thought it was anything serious. After all, the girl was so cheerful and lively. Yu Tian assumed that after the surgery, Little Ling just needed regular check-ups or perhaps a minor procedure on her remaining good eye. It was common for patients who had undergone single-eye removal surgery to experience issues with their other eye.

But judging from Yan Ming’s expression now, Little Ling’s condition was clearly not as simple as a minor issue.

Yu Tian grew tense. “What’s wrong with Little Ling?”

Yan Ming’s voice was low. “Retinoblastoma.”

With those few simple words, Yu Tian understood everything.

Retinoblastoma was a very common malignant intraocular tumor in children, but…

“Aren’t the cure rates pretty high these days? I remember they’re nearly 80%. Plus, Little Ling already had her eyeball removed!”

Such a sunny and adorable child!

Yan Ming’s voice carried a note of sorrow. “Even though she underwent surgery, it was discovered too late. By the time she came in for the operation, it was already somewhat delayed. Just four years after the surgery, the cancer metastasized. This time, she was admitted to the hospital to check on the condition of her other eye and see if there was any chance for another surgery. But based on her current physical condition, she’s no longer a candidate for surgery.”

Yan Ming’s words weighed heavily on Yu Tian’s heart.

Once retinoblastoma recurs, it can easily spread through the optic nerve or orbital fissure into the brain. It might also metastasize via the bloodstream to the bones, liver, or other organs throughout the body. In short, once metastasis occurs, the situation becomes extremely dire.

At this moment, Yan Ming’s phone rang again.

He answered, spoke briefly, and after hanging up, finally exhaled deeply. “The hospital says Little Ling has been stabilized for now after emergency treatment.”

Yu Tian, having studied medicine, knew all too well what lay behind Yan Ming’s hesitant use of the phrase “temporarily stable.”

Even if Little Ling managed to pull through this episode of shock, her current condition clearly made further surgery impossible. Her life was now entering its final countdown. The hospital would likely inform her parents of the reality and suggest they prepare for discharge.

Sure enough, Yu Tian’s guess was correct.

“Little Ling’s parents were in a car accident when she was one year old. Her mother didn’t survive and passed away. Her father lost a hand in the accident and has since been working odd jobs. Over the years, covering Little Ling’s medical expenses has been a constant struggle. To afford her treatment, he works multiple jobs during the day and can hardly spend time with her.”

So this was why Little Ling was often hospitalized alone, with few visits from her parents.

Yan Ming’s voice was heavy. “Her father is with her tonight. I heard they’ve decided to discharge her tomorrow.”

Many patients are overjoyed when they’re discharged because their condition has improved or been brought under control. But there are also unfortunate cases where discharge happens because they can no longer afford treatment, or their condition has progressed to the point where treatment is futile.

Little Ling clearly fell into the latter category.

This child’s impending discharge seemed to affect Yan Ming deeply. His expression grew weary and confused.

“I’ve always encouraged my patients not to give up on treatment.”

“Ophthalmic surgery requires extremely delicate techniques, and post-operative outcomes are often judged very directly by patients—whether their vision has been restored, and to what extent.”

“But even if the surgery is performed flawlessly, every patient recovers differently. No doctor in the world can guarantee specific results just because a surgery was successful. Many patients struggle to understand this. They think, ‘I’ve had the surgery, so why hasn’t my vision fully recovered? Why hasn’t it improved to the level I expected?’ When these situations arise, they blame the doctor and assume the surgery failed. Many patients become impulsive, irritable, and hostile toward their doctors.”

“So, despite the immense effort and technical skill required for delicate ophthalmic surgeries, doctors are often misunderstood by patients. Since patients lack medical expertise, you can’t convince them with technically flawless procedures that you’ve done your best. If their vision doesn’t improve, they assume the surgery was a failure.”

Yan Ming sighed lightly. “Over the years, I’ve encountered too many cases like this. Many of my colleagues have become more conservative due to patients’ inability to understand or their misunderstandings. They hesitate to take on high-risk cases or patients with unstable emotions. It’s a form of self-preservation, and I understand it, but I don’t want to become that kind of doctor.”

“Before Little Ling came to me, her father had already taken her to several hospitals in their area. All of them gently advised him to give up treatment because the cost of surgery was an enormous burden for a family like theirs, and no one could predict her post-operative condition. I was the only one who encouraged him not to give up.”

Yan Ming lowered his gaze, as if confiding in someone else—or perhaps himself. “Because I wanted to try. She’s so young. I wanted to fight for a chance, a hope.”

He paused briefly before continuing, “For all these years, I’ve adhered to this principle. I’ve never thought I was wrong.”

In Yu Tian’s memory, Yan Ming had always been calm, rational, and strong. But at this moment, there was a flicker of doubt and suppressed bitterness in his expression.

“But now, Little Ling’s situation has made me start questioning myself. If I hadn’t insisted on persuading her family not to give up, would she have avoided suffering these extra years? After the surgery, her condition quickly worsened, and she still couldn’t live a normal life like other children. Moreover, she lost an eye and had to wear a prosthetic, which led to ridicule and exclusion from her peers. Her father, struggling to care for her, lived under immense financial pressure.”

Yan Ming paused here and glanced at Yu Tian before taking a deep breath. “When Little Ling’s father first met me, he was already wavering inside, considering giving up treatment. Their relatives also urged him to let go of this sick child, suggesting he remarry and have another healthy child to bring their lives back on track. If I hadn’t taken her case, he probably wouldn’t have persisted.”

“So, I’ve been wondering: was I wrong?”

Yan Ming’s smile was tinged with bitterness. “Perhaps constantly encouraging patients not to give up treatment doesn’t necessarily make someone a good doctor.”

“A patient like Little Ling—though I extended her life, did she truly experience happiness? Did she have a high-quality life? Could her father find joy in those extra years with her, or would losing her later cause him even greater pain and grief?”

Doctors witness life and death frequently, but that doesn’t mean they become numb or indifferent to it. Every patient’s passing leaves regret and prompts reflection on the meaning of their profession and the correctness of their treatment plans.

“And now, I have another patient almost identical to Little Ling—a two-year-old child from a poor family whose parents are both disabled. They can’t afford the surgery, and our hospital’s public welfare funds have already been exhausted for the year. In the past, I never hesitated and always encouraged parents not to give up. But now…”

Yan Ming didn’t finish his sentence, but Yu Tian understood completely.

Doctors are human, not gods. They can’t predict or guarantee post-operative recovery or the ultimate course of a disease. Yan Ming was afraid—afraid that a child in a situation similar to Little Ling’s might face the same fate.

This was the first time Yu Tian had felt so close to the difficult dilemmas doctors face. Before, she always thought Yan Ming, who excelled in his field to an almost obsessive degree, wouldn’t feel lost or doubtful about his career. But at this moment, she truly sensed his inner turmoil.

She realized he could waver and retreat.

Yet, this didn’t diminish Yan Ming’s image in her eyes. If he once seemed like a towering statue of a doctor, he now returned to his true self—human-sized, approachable, and relatable. He became more flesh-and-blood, more intriguing, and drew her closer.

She didn’t have Yan Ming’s extensive clinical experience or his depth of understanding. As a recent medical school graduate, Yu Tian couldn’t answer his questions. But she had a simpler, more direct method.

After searching for a while, she pulled a one-yuan coin from her pocket.

“Let’s flip a coin. If it lands heads, you hit me hard.”

As she spoke, she tossed the coin lightly. When she opened her hand, it indeed landed heads-up.

She looked at Yan Ming. “Hit me.”

But Yan Ming’s eyes were filled with astonishment—and refusal. “Yu Tian, you’re being reckless. What’s this about?”

Then came his confusion over why Yu Tian suddenly brought up flipping a coin.

But Yu Tian was confident. “When faced with a difficult choice, people’s hearts usually already lean one way. Sometimes, they may ask others for opinions and analyses, but deep down, they’re looking for answers that align with their own inclinations. If everyone had advised you to give up on Little Ling, do you think you would have?”

She looked at Yan Ming. “See? Flipping a coin is a clear process of facing yourself. Even though it landed heads-up just now, you didn’t want to hit me, so you refused to follow the rule.”

“So, regarding whether to treat Little Ling, if you had flipped a coin and it landed heads-up, you’d commit fully to treating her without giving up. If it landed tails-up, you’d gently suggest abandoning treatment. But if it actually landed tails-up, could you really obey that decision as ‘divine will’?”

Yu Tian’s eyes sparkled. “You wouldn’t, because your heart tells you that you want to fight for a chance for Little Ling’s future. You want to do everything possible instead of easily giving up on such a vibrant life. So why not follow your heart?”

“And besides, no one has the right to decide whether someone deserves to live or judge how painful their life is. The value of life can’t be measured so simply. If lives with illness or defects aren’t worth living and should be abandoned to avoid more suffering, then by that logic, should impoverished or incapable lives also be erased? If you subjectively judge that poor, incapable people live painful and meaningless lives, does that justify abandoning vulnerable groups?”

“If everyone thought this way, what kind of life would be worth fighting for? Faced with the same illness, a young college student’s recovery after surgery is likely better than an elderly person’s. In a situation with limited medical resources, should we sacrifice the elderly to save the young?”

Yu Tian looked into Yan Ming’s eyes. “There’s an old saying: ‘You are not the fish; how do you know the fish’s joy?’ Have you ever thought that you’re not the person involved, so how can you fairly judge the value of someone else’s life or existence?”

“You think Little Ling and her father are suffering, but they’ve also shared fleeting moments of happiness that can never be relived. Like fireworks in winter, people can’t celebrate with fireworks every day, but everyone carefully stores those moments as strength for the coming year.”

“Most of life is mundane, but even brief moments of warmth and sweetness can sustain people through pain and numbness. They revisit those memories to break through difficulties and chase tomorrow.”

Yu Tian couldn’t help but smile softly. “So, don’t you think humans are romantic? And strong?”

“I know that logically speaking, a child like Little Ling, even after surgery, would lose one eye, and even if there are no other complications, living with one eye is harder than living with two. But we can’t deprive her of possibilities just because we subjectively think her future will be difficult.”

“Do you know? My favorite line from Gu Cheng’s poetry is, ‘To avoid an ending, you avoid all beginnings.’ I’ve always found it deeply inspiring. If we abandon treating Little Ling out of fear that her condition might recur, or because her father would face even greater pain after enduring hardship, isn’t that cutting off our nose to spite our face?”

“Didn’t Zhang Gao, the famous physician of the Southern Song Dynasty, say, ‘As a doctor, you must abandon the pursuit of fame and profit and dedicate yourself solely to relieving suffering.’ A doctor’s初心 (original intention) is to save patients, regardless of fame or profit. In treating Little Ling, you made no mistakes, had no technical flaws to reproach yourself for, and weren’t concerned about damaging your reputation if the surgery failed. You didn’t seek glory or recognition. So, you have nothing to feel guilty about.”

“Little Ling didn’t give up in her fight against illness, which is why she held on long enough to meet you. I firmly believe that there’s a destined connection between doctors and their patients. Neither of you gave up, and that’s why she’s alive today.”

Yu Tian said earnestly, “Do your best and leave the rest to fate. A doctor’s job is to do what they should do.”

“If you hesitate and overthink, you’ll stop moving forward.”

“Every life is different. Little Ling may not have been lucky, but the young patient you’re dealing with now might be fortunate. Don’t let one failure make you question the principles you’ve always stood by. For any patient, you should give your all.”

In Yan Ming’s mind, Yu Tian had always been lively and unpredictable. But at this moment, she was different. Her fair face carried a serious expression, and her bright, dark eyes seemed to glow with their own light.

She was like a star that didn’t need any external reflection to shine brightly, illuminating others.

Suddenly, Yan Ming wasn’t as lost anymore.

He chuckled slightly. Yes, if you overthink and hesitate, you’ll stop moving forward. Instead of wasting time regretting things that can’t be changed, it’s better to focus on saving more patients.

Life is equal. The value of a healthy person’s life is no different from that of a patient. As long as current medical techniques can still treat a condition, we can’t categorize lives into tiers and decide who deserves treatment.

Doctors aren’t gods. They don’t screen who deserves to be saved. Whether someone is virtuous or wicked in the eyes of society, to a doctor, they’re all patients.

Doctors aren’t miracle workers. They can’t cure every patient, but they must strive to use all their knowledge and skills to hold onto each patient’s hand. They must stay true to the初心 (original intention) they had when they chose to become doctors—to honor the white coat, the profession, and the hopes of their patients. They must steadfastly uphold the Hippocratic Oath.

They must also learn to accept—accept helplessness and regret—but not let these feelings become a fog that obstructs their path forward.

The road to becoming a doctor is filled with thorns, setbacks, hardships, misunderstandings, pressure, confusion, self-doubt, and sleepless nights. But still, they must move forward resolutely.