Chapter 710: Problem Solved, Put on the Agenda
He paused, thinking of what Wang Jianguo said last night as he squatted on the kang and stuffed his pipe with dry tobacco:
"Girls from the Great Northern Wilderness are tough in every bone."
At this moment, these words seemed to still echo in his ears, and his voice unconsciously rose:
"Let them learn from Xiaohua, there will be no problem!"
Director Song reached out to take the list, and the papers made a slight rustling sound as they rubbed against each other.
His eyes swept over those names, remembering the way He Yushui always pinned wild flowers in her hair, and the agility of Cuilan when she swung the sickle in the wheat field.
Can these girls who grew up in the fields really put on white coats and cure diseases and save lives?
His thumb unconsciously stroked the edge of the list, which still had scorch marks from last night's oil lamp.
"But studying medicine is not like harvesting wheat,"
Director Song put down the list, and tiny ripples appeared in the herbal tea in the enamel jar.
"It takes a lot of effort just to recognize the names of the medicines and remember the acupuncture points."
Zhao Shuzhuo straightened his back, and the back of his work shirt was stained with dark marks of sweat.
He recalled Yang Xiaohua's focused eyes when she was reading the nursing manual on the train, and her skillful technique when she changed the dressing for the old lady in the hospital:
"Xiaohua said that we should start with simple things like bandaging wounds and taking body temperature. When the pharmacist Jianguo found comes, he will teach us how to identify herbs and make prescriptions."
His eyes suddenly became gentle, and the sunlight outside the window fell on the tips of his slightly red ears.
"These kids, if given a chance, are no worse than the girls in the city."
The office fell into a brief silence, with only the faint roar of a tractor coming from afar.
Director Song looked at Zhao Shuzhuo's taut jawline and suddenly remembered when this young man first arrived in the Great Northern Wilderness.
He couldn't even hold the plow steadily, but now he can stand here and confidently plan the future of the health center.
He reached out and patted Zhao Shuzhuo's shoulder, and the warmth of the coarse work clothes came from his palm:
"Then let's give it a try. But let me be frank. We have to hurry up with the training. We can't let the villagers down when the clinic opens."
Director Song's originally furrowed brows instantly relaxed, and the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes were filled with a smile. He took off his reading glasses and repeatedly wiped the lenses with his sleeves, as if he wanted to see this sudden joy more clearly.
"Hahahahahaha!"
The hearty laughter made the leaves of the green ivy on the windowsill tremble slightly, and the dust that was stirred up swirled in the beam of light.
He strode forward and held the hands of Wang Jianguo and Zhao Shuzhuo at the same time, the warmth of his palms transmitted through the coarse work clothes.
"That's great, that's great! If that's true, it will solve the big problem of everyone having difficulty seeing a doctor!"
When he turned around, the hem of his Zhongshan suit brought up a gust of wind, which swept across the enamel cup on the corner of the table, causing tiny ripples in the cool tea inside.
The old clock on the office wall just happened to strike, and the hands clicked back to eight o'clock, as if it was also telling the good news.
Director Song's eyes swept across the yellowed "Health Center Construction Plan", and the words crossed out in red pen suddenly became vivid - the blueprint from three years ago finally had the possibility of becoming a reality.
"I will send a document to the Municipal Bureau immediately!"
He walked quickly to the desk. The drawer creaked when it was opened, and the documents that came out still had the scent of ink.
The pen tip was filled with ink from the ink bottle, leaving powerful handwriting on the paper:
"Application for the establishment of Jianye Village Health Center..."
As he was writing, he suddenly stopped, looked up at the red flag fluttering outside the window, and couldn't suppress the smile on his lips.
“We must be given the best medicine!”
As he spoke, he tapped the table with his pen, causing the pile of reports to shake slightly.
"Penicillin, antipyretics, hemostatic bandages... these common medicines must be taken in sufficient quantities!"
Thinking of how Mr. Zhang’s treatment was delayed due to lack of medicine last month, his pen paused on the paper and he forcefully wrote the words “give priority to primary medical care.”
“And the best medical equipment!”
Director Song stood up and paced back and forth in the small office, the heels of his leather shoes making crisp sounds as they tapped against the blue brick floor.
"Stethoscope, blood pressure monitor, sterilizer..."
He counted on his fingers, and suddenly seemed to remember something. He walked quickly to the filing cabinet and pulled out a brown paper bag labeled "Medical Equipment List".
It contains procurement applications that have not been fulfilled over the years.
“I must make up for all of this this time!”
There was a determination to fight to the end in his voice.
The sunlight shines through the dusty glass, casting mottled shadows on the desk.
Director Song sat down again, his pen rustling on the paper. He occasionally stopped to drink a sip of water, but found that there was only herbal tea in the enamel cup.
He didn't bother to get up and boil water, and continued to write furiously. The handwriting on the document became denser and denser, and even the signature at the end was more powerful than usual.
When the last punctuation mark fell, he exhaled heavily, as if the huge stone that had been pressing on his heart for many years had been unloaded.
“Just you wait!”
Director Song folded the document carefully and put it into a leather envelope.
"I'll go to the post office and send an urgent telegram right away!"
He grabbed his military coat from the office chair, and when he turned around, the corner of his coat brushed past the alarm clock on the corner of the table, and the hands pointed exactly to eight fifteen.
This ordinary morning is destined to leave a significant mark in the history of Jianye Village.
The morning light finally broke through the clouds, illuminating the commune office.
Wang Jianguo stood by the window, with a crooked window frame and dusty glass behind him.
The sunlight outlined his well-defined profile and also clearly illuminated the smile that could not be hidden at the corner of his mouth.
He deliberately straightened his hunched back, and the patches on the knees of his overalls gleamed in the sunlight, as if they were proud of him.
"Brother Shuzhuo,"
Wang Jianguo deliberately prolonged his tone, and the tips of his leather shoes rubbed against the blue brick floor from time to time, raising a few wisps of fine dust.
"Isn't that a coincidence?"
The words were spoken lightly, with an upward arc at the end, just like the catkins swirling in the air on a spring day.
He glanced at Zhao Shuzhuo, his eyes full of pride. The other person's figure was reflected in his dark pupils, as if saying silently: See, I told you that Director Song has to agree.
Zhao Shuzhuo leaned against the mottled wooden door, the hem of his military coat brushing across the scratches on the threshold that had accumulated over the years.
He looked at Wang Jianguo's slightly raised chin and his ears which turned red with excitement, and suddenly remembered the young man who had first arrived in the Great Northern Wilderness three years ago.
At that time, Wang Jianguo would choke and cough even when making fire to cook, but now he can talk freely in front of Director Song about building a clinic.