Chapter 704 Preparing to Establish a Health Center
Wang Jianguo reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled cigarette box, took out a cigarette and put it in his mouth, but did not light it.
He pointed to the map on the wall with his cigarette:
"Hasn't our three-point field always been short of an infirmary? Last time, when Old Zhou had high blood pressure, it took two hours to get him to the clinic."
"If Xiaohua could set up a stall here, it would solve the problem of difficulty in seeing a doctor and we wouldn't have to travel so far..."
His voice became more and more excited, and the ashes fell gently to the ground with his gestures.
The room suddenly became quiet, with only the crackling sound of the kerosene lamp.
Yang Xiaohua's eyes lit up. She thought of the vast fields of the Great Northern Wilderness that she saw on the train, and the educated youth working in the cold wind. Perhaps they could really find their own value again here.
Zhao Shuzhuo looked at Wang Jianguo's confident look, silently thinking about how to convert the warehouse into a clinic, and the corners of his mouth rose unconsciously.
The steam rising from the house and the darkening night outside intertwined. Wang Jianguo tapped his pipe against the sole of his shoe, and sparks fell on the blue brick floor.
He glanced at the people sitting around the eight-immortal table, and suddenly reached out to loosen the buttons on his collar, revealing traces of sweat under his coarse shirt.
"Since the clinic is so far from our village,"
His voice had the roughness that is unique to the men from the Great Northern Wilderness, but at the end of the voice there was a calmness and thoughtfulness.
"Then why do we have to go so far?"
The flame of the kerosene lamp was shaken by the draft, casting mottled light and shadows on the wall.
Yang Xiaohua tightened her grip on the porcelain spoon slightly. She noticed that when Wang Jianguo spoke, his eyes were fixed on the dusty old clock in the corner.
Every swing of the pendulum seemed to be striking at the villagers' long journey to seek medical treatment.
“Why can’t we build a clinic in our village?”
Wang Jianguo suddenly stood up and slammed his large hand on the table, making the dishes clink.
"Comrade Yang Xiaohua is a professional nurse. We can find a few skillful girls in the village to help us. They can learn how to give injections and change dressings from her."
Shen Chunhua's bamboo fan stopped in mid-air, and the peony pattern on the fan twisted slightly with her movements.
She remembered that last month, Widow Zhang had acute gastroenteritis, and the whole village took turns taking her to the clinic on a cart, going back and forth for a whole night.
At this moment, Wang Jianguo's words were like a match, instantly igniting the light in her eyes:
"Jianguo is right! Last year, the grandson of the old Zhao family had a rash, and his wife walked 20 miles in the rain with the child in her arms. When they came back, both mother and daughter had a high fever..."
Zhao Shuzhuo frowned, stroking the gap on the edge of the teacup, thinking of Yang Xiaohua's pale face on the train.
"When Xiaohua first came to our village, we opened a clinic and asked her to take the lead,"
His voice lowered unconsciously.
“Will this work?”
Before she finished speaking, He Yushui had already stood up, and the flour on her apron fell to the ground:
"Why not? I think it's fine!"
She walked quickly to Yang Xiaohua and held her cold hand.
"I've seen nurses in the city hospital give injections quickly and accurately. Sister Xiaohua is really skilled, so isn't it more than enough for her to teach us?"
Wang Jianguo bent down and took out a crumpled notebook from under the table, with a few pieces of dried mugwort sandwiched between the pages.
He turned the page filled with crooked handwriting, and the kerosene lamp illuminated his profile in a flickering way:
"I've already thought about it." He pointed at the crooked sketch on the paper with the end of his pencil.
"Clear out the woodshed to the west of the production team's warehouse, paste new window paper on it, and then find a carpenter to make a few medicine cabinets."
Having said that, he looked up at Yang Xiaohua with a hint of anticipation in his eyes.
"Comrade Xiaohua, can you please see if there is anything missing? I will go to the field office to apply for a stethoscope and a blood pressure monitor."
Yang Xiaohua looked at the simple building drawn in pencil on the paper, and her throat suddenly tightened.
I remember that before my father died, the incandescent lights that kept on all night in the hospital corridor overlapped with the flickering candlelight in the house at this moment.
She thought of the patients she had cared for and the hope conveyed by the smell of disinfectant.
"I need a medicine box,"
She heard her voice tremble.
"Alcohol, gauze, and common antipyretic drugs..."
Zhao Shuzhuo was silent for a long time, and finally reached out and pushed the warm rice wine in the enamel jar in front of Yang Xiaohua.
He recalled that when he led the educated youth to reclaim wasteland three years ago, he also crossed the river by feeling the stones.
"OK,"
His palm rested heavily on Wang Jianguo's shoulder.
"Let's try it. But let me be frank,"
His eyes swept across the room full of eager faces.
"Building a clinic is no small matter. We need to mobilize the whole village."
Outside the window, the moonlight had climbed up the eaves without anyone noticing, making the paper-cut carp on the window lattice come alive. He Yushui suddenly slapped his forehead:
"Oh, right! Erzhu's cousin is an apprentice at a pharmacy in the county town. Maybe she can get some cheap herbs there!"
Shen Chunhua also became more excited, and clapped her bamboo fan in her palms:
"I went door to door to ask if anyone had any unused wooden cabinets that could be transformed into medicine racks!"
Amid the chatter of the crowd, Yang Xiaohua quietly wiped the moisture from the corners of her eyes with her sleeve.
The food on the table had already gone cold, but she felt like a fire was burning in her chest.
This fire may be able to illuminate the long dark night in the Great Northern Wilderness, and also warm every soul tortured by illness.
The flame of the kerosene lamp swayed gently in the glass cover, making Yang Xiaohua's pale cheeks flicker.
She put down the enamel bowl in her hand in panic, and a few drops of soup splashed onto the coarse tablecloth, spreading dark spots.
“No, no,”
She waved her hands repeatedly, and the silver card at the end of her hair swayed gently with her movements.
"I just arrived and I'm unfamiliar with the place. How can I take on such a heavy responsibility as opening a clinic?"
Her voice was noticeably trembling, and her fingers were unconsciously twisting the hem of her skirt, as if that was the only thing she could hold on to.
Wang Jianguo knocked his pipe against the sole of his shoe, sparks falling on the blue brick floor. He straightened his back, and the patches on the knees of his overalls bulged slightly with the movement.
"Comrade Yang Xiaohua, don't underestimate yourself!"
His voice echoed in the house like a loud bell, startling the old yellow dog in the corner and making it raise its head.
"I've inquired about it. You've worked in the city hospital for five years, and you've treated at least eight hundred patients!"
He took three steps to the window and pushed it open. The night, carrying the aroma of wheat, rushed into the room.
"Look outside. There are only two clinics in this area, and they are five or six miles away from us!"
Shen Chunhua put down the bamboo fan in her hand and sighed softly.