This Doctor Is Too Wealthy

As the exam approached, Wu Buwei and the others grew increasingly nervous. Whenever they had time, they would bury themselves in their books, and they seized every opportunity to ask Du Heng and Yu Haiting questions when the two were free.

Noticing Wu Buwei's anxiety, Du Heng proactively helped him with some of his workload, trying his best to free him up so he would have more time to review.

So, Du Heng spent the whole morning in the hospital rooms, administering acupuncture treatments to the inpatients, right up until lunchtime.

However, there were still about five or six patients whose treatments he hadn't finished.

When everyone else left for their meal, Du Heng packed up his things, preparing to return to his office. Halfway there, he suddenly remembered the hypertension patient, so he changed direction and headed to the patient's hospital room.

The patient's daughter and granddaughter were no longer in the hospital room; an old lady was now keeping watch by the sick bed. The patient himself was currently eating a large flatbread.

A smile touched Du Heng's lips when he saw the patient could sit up and was able to eat and drink.

It seemed their previous judgment was correct. The patient was indeed tolerant to high blood pressure, but the degree of his tolerance was genuinely surprising.

He walked slowly towards the sick bed and asked gently, "Uncle, why are you eating this flatbread here? Our hospital provides meals. Didn't the nurse inform you?"

However, as he got closer, Du Heng saw clearly what the patient was eating. It wasn't just a flatbread; it was a flatbread stuffed with meat—specifically, very fatty plain boiled pork, the kind that was mostly white fat with little lean meat, looking incredibly greasy at first glance.

When the patient saw Du Heng approach, although he didn't know who he was, he recognized the white gown as a doctor's. He quickly swallowed the mouthful of food and self-consciously tried to hide the flatbread.

Because when he was admitted yesterday, Dr. Yu had specifically instructed that his diet needed to be light and that he couldn't eat such oily foods. So, he was afraid Du Heng would see him eating such fatty meat and stop him, or even criticize him.

Having swallowed the food in his mouth, the patient was awkwardly at a loss. "Doctor... I... well..."

Du Heng chuckled softly, not pressing further about the food. Instead, he asked with concern about his current condition, "Uncle, how are you feeling now? Is your head still dizzy?"

"Much better than this morning, not so dizzy anymore. This morning, as soon as I opened my eyes, everything seemed to be spinning, even the ceiling felt like it was turning. Closing my eyes didn't help either; the moment I closed them, I'd feel top-heavy and light-footed, and my whole body would start to spin. It spun me around so much I felt terribly nauseous but couldn't throw up."

Once he started talking about his illness, the patient no longer felt self-conscious about the meat-filled flatbread in his hand and instantly opened his chatterbox.

The patient shifted, sitting up a little straighter. "Doctor, I've been like this for ten, maybe twenty years, and I've never felt so awful. This morning, that world-spinning dizziness nearly killed me! I felt like my brain was turning to mush. I don't think there's anything wrong with my blood pressure. Could you please not try to lower it?"

He then glanced at the meat-filled flatbread in his hand, his expression a mixture of conflict and reluctance. "And another thing, I just love meat, especially this fatty plain boiled pork—it's the best! I've been eating it for years with no problems. Now, all of a sudden, you won't let me eat it. I can't stand it."

Then, his expression suddenly brightened, and he held up the flatbread. "Look! I ate this, and right away, my head stopped spinning. I feel much better!"

Du Heng had only asked one question, and the patient had responded with a torrent of words.

Listening to all this, Du Heng could tell that the patient harbored quite a bit of dissatisfaction regarding his current treatment.

Du Heng said with a smile, "We saw your condition this morning. Considering you might be tolerant to high blood pressure, well, as you can see, we've already stopped your medication. We want to see what happens once your blood pressure returns to its usual state. By the way, did Dr. Yu give you a check-up?"

Hearing Du Heng say this, the patient relaxed slightly. "He did. My blood pressure was 190."

"When was that done?"

"Right after I finished the first flatbread."

Du Heng paused for a moment. "You've already eaten one?"

The patient glanced at Du Heng cautiously and said in a low voice, "I... I had one about an hour ago."

Looking at the patient, who was now speaking clearly with bright eyes, Du Heng was highly skeptical. Could this really be the effect of that meat-filled flatbread?

He turned to leave the room and called over the nurse on duty, asking her to measure the patient's blood pressure again.

The result was a reading of 206/160.

It was back. It had returned to its previous level.

For a normal person, with such a reading, they would undoubtedly be unconscious and lying flat. But the man before him was, one could say, full of vigor, showing no abnormalities whatsoever.

The patient and his Old Partner watched Du Heng intently, waiting for what he would say next.

Du Heng felt he had certainly learned something new and gained another piece of experience today.

However, seeing the patient's blood pressure already at 206, he still advised, "For now, we won't try to lower your blood pressure. You can just maintain your previous lifestyle habits. But this one in your hand is already your second; that's a bit like compensatory overeating. So, you really shouldn't eat this one."

Upon hearing he could return to his previous lifestyle, the patient was delighted. He quickly put the flatbread in his hand down on the bedside cabinet, saying repeatedly, "I won't eat it, I won't eat it."

Du Heng nodded. "Alright, you two rest. If you experience any discomfort, come down and call for a doctor immediately, or call a nurse."

"Okay, I understand."

Du Heng said no more and turned to leave the hospital room.

When he reached the office, put his things away, and picked up his lunchbox to go to the canteen, Du Heng still found the patient's situation rather incredible.

After getting his food, he walked over to Yu Haiting's side, sat down, and said softly, "I just went to that hypertension patient's hospital room. We did another check-up; his blood pressure is back up to 206."

Yu Haiting stopped his chopsticks and said, "I checked him a little after 11 AM, and his blood pressure was 190. Isn't this rise in pressure a bit too fast? No, I have to go take a look."

With that, he picked up his lunchbox and was about to head back.

Du Heng quickly stopped him. "Don't go, the man is perfectly fine. When I went in just now, he was eating a meat-filled flatbread—and it was already his second one! That plain boiled pork was so fatty, the grease was practically oozing out."

Yu Haiting was a little surprised. "Eating meat? Fatty meat?"

"Yes, his Old Partner brought it for him. He's completely alert now, showing no abnormalities, just like a healthy person."

Du Heng, ignoring Yu Haiting's somewhat dazed state, took a bite of food and continued, "When I went in, he was already on his second one. But I saw his blood pressure was getting a bit too high, so I told him not to eat it. Later, you must impress upon them that after he's discharged, he absolutely mustn't engage in compensatory overeating. If his blood pressure stays stable, it probably won't be a big issue. But if it gets excessively high, that would be too dangerous."

Yu Haiting nodded, his chopsticks tapping lightly against his lunchbox. "I will remind them."

After finishing his meal, just as Du Heng was about to leave, Chef Fan came over, wiping his hands on his apron. He wore an obsequious smile as he nodded and bowed, standing beside Du Heng and reaching for the lunchbox Du Heng was about to take to be washed. "Dean, give it to me! I'll wash it for you."

Caught by surprise, Du Heng's lunchbox ended up in Chef Fan's hands. Looking at Chef Fan's demeanor, Du Heng knew he absolutely had a favor to ask of him.