Chapter 3 — Stepping Out From The Rubble

Before I passed out, I watched my phone fall into many pieces. The screen shows that a call to the emergency contact has been made. But he didn't answer the phone. When I opened my eyes again, what caught my eye were the white walls of the hospital and the smell of disinfectant that stung my nose. Manh Chi Dao's eyes were red and swollen, he knelt down at my feet: "Sorry, Thu Am, really sorry..." Ta Chinh's eyes were red. He punched the wall hard, opened his mouth and said: "I don't know, he... that call..." I just closed my eyes slightly: "Give me the inspection report." Ta Chinh hesitated and then handed it over. As a professional doctor, I knew with just one look how serious the injury on my hand was. The physical pain is not one-tenth of the pain in my heart right now. My whole body trembled, looking at my colleagues who came to visit the hospital with Manh Chi Dao and Ta Chinh who were extremely miserable. "Get out, I beg everyone." The hospital room door opened and then closed again. After that, everyone vaguely heard my suppressed but extremely painful cries. Every day, Ta Chinh and Manh Chi Dao stood waiting in front of the hospital room, but I didn't see them once. Until Ta Chinh stood outside the door, painfully telling me: "Thu Am, it's okay if your hand is injured. I can tell dad to transfer you to the administrative department. Or do you want to go back to school to be a teacher? As long as you want, I can do it for you." I didn't pay attention to him, just looked at my hand wrapped in gauze. I tremblingly replied to an email from Germany. 【I've thought about it carefully.】5 Three years later, the plane flew steadily through the sky above the Pacific Ocean. I looked at the sunset outside the window and instinctively reached out to stroke my right arm. The bone that was broken three years ago has recovered quite well, but every time it rains or gets wet, it still aches. That year, after my injury, I accepted my German instructor's invitation to participate in his research project. A long time ago, he enthusiastically invited me many times. It's just that at that time I was still worried about my patients, my lover and my friends, so I turned down the opportunity to stay in Germany. I dragged my heavy suitcase, full of joy, back home, only to receive simultaneous betrayal from the two most important people in my life. During my three years in Germany, I almost turned myself into a precision machine that was never allowed to make mistakes. During the day, I follow the research instructor at the hospital. In the evening, I went to the rehabilitation center for treatment. At two or three o'clock in the morning, I was still sitting in my apartment studying documents. I'm just not willing. I have been diligently studying for more than ten years, life still has a vast and limitless future, how can I be willing to stop here? Sometimes, in the middle of the night, old wounds ache again. I also used to stare at the ceiling, staying up until morning. If it weren't for that baseball bat, if Ta Chinh had heard that call, would my life have become a different person? But in this world there are no ifs. Suddenly, announcements rang out in the airplane cabin, mixed in Chinese and English. I heard the chief flight attendant asking: "Is there a doctor here?" My body reacted before my brain. Without thinking, I immediately unfastened my seat belt and stood up. In the back row of the first class cabin, an old man was clutching his chest, his face gray and white, breathing rapidly. "I'm a doctor." I squatted down, quickly checked his pulse and pupils, and signaled the flight attendant to get the first aid kit. "Suspected acute myocardial infarction. Need to immediately let the patient lie flat, give oxygen and take nitroglycerin under the tongue." The old man's wife stood next to her and cried to the point of not speaking.

be put into words. I can only operate while asking about the patient's medical history. The flight attendant held her hand and continuously comforted her. Until the plane landed early, the emergency staff brought the stretcher on, I helped hold up the IV bag, and followed them to the ambulance. The car screeched away. I sat in the ambulance, watching it run in a familiar direction. Unexpectedly, three years later, the first place I went to after landing was the hospital where I worked before. The Ta family's hospital. The light in the emergency room was so bright that people couldn't open their eyes. I calmly explained the patient's condition on the plane to the emergency department doctor. Waiting until the patient was brought into the intensive care room, I breathed a sigh of relief and planned to leave. Suddenly a familiar voice rang out from behind, full of surprise: "Thu Am? Is that you?" I stopped walking. Ta Chinh stood there wearing a white blouse, his mask pulled down below his chin, still holding a copy of the electrocardiogram that had just been printed out. After three years of not seeing him, he had lost a lot of weight and had obvious dark circles under his eyes. His breathing was rapid, his eyes staring at me. But he still restrained himself, stopped two steps away from me, and did not move forward anymore.