Chapter 9 To poison
The stainless steel dissecting table glowed with a cold metal gleam.
Seeing his curled and deformed corpse lying on it, so emaciated that he has lost his human shape, and there is hardly a piece of complete skin on his body, a coolness seeps out from my heart, and slowly spreads to the soles of my feet. go.
It's definitely not because I'm afraid of his shell.
I've seen too many dead bodies than this horrible.
What scares me most is that I don't know, I don't know why fate always connects him with me, just like Faust and Mephisto.
I am glad that I have left him countless times, but when I look back suddenly, I find that he is still by my side, like a shadow.
Once upon a time, he was also a bookish young man who scolded Fang Qiu.
I don't know why the God of Destiny would mock him like this. I only know that although he is finally dead at this moment, the damage he caused to the family is not only unabated, it is even very likely to intensify.
Could it be that the God of Destiny is warning me about something?
The first time we met on the trajectory of our lives was in the competition of the junior high school group of the city-wide quiz in Nanren City.
My school has won the first place for two years in a row, and this time it is even more determined to win - my two partners and I have been out of school for a month.
We have a clear division of labor. I am in charge of intellectual questions and mathematics, physics and chemistry questions, another boy is in charge of liberal arts questions, and a girl is in charge of foreign language questions. In the past month, we have recited countless riddles and done countless questions. The topic made us groan, each of us looked like a bloodthirsty general, eager to fight on the battlefield.
We passed all the way in the preliminaries without any risks.
But my instructor had already reminded me to pay attention to him, the kid from No. 1 Middle School in Nanren City.
I watched more than one of his games, and what attracted me was not the fact that he scored the most points, but the disdainful look on his face every time he answered the questions, as if to say, do I still need to take action on this kind of question?We will have a fight.
That's what I thought the first time I saw him.
Sure enough, we met in the final.
The points of our two groups put the other groups far away, and the final seemed to be only for us.
The last three questions.
Our points are equal.
"Dialect, type a Chinese character." I immediately rang the answering machine: "Interviewer interview." I said in my heart.
"I haven't said that the rush to answer has started, so this question is invalid." I pretended to be nonchalant and shrugged my shoulders to the cheerleaders behind me.
Several die-hard fans were anxiously cheering for me.
"Draft, type the name of the wine." This time I managed to restrain myself, and as soon as the "start" of "answering start" came out of the teacher's mouth, I rang the answering machine.
"Moutai." I said.
"Add ten points!" I knew that as long as I grabbed the title, I would score, I thought proudly.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw him nervous for the first time in a game.
He didn't blink, but he didn't look at the teacher, but stared at my hand on the answering machine.
For the last question, I saw that his forehead was sweating, and now he is ten points lower than me.
The teacher took out the answer board, on which were written the words "false and false".
"Please read this idiom on the answering board." "Start answering!" Our hands were pressed on the answering machine almost at the same time, but the name of their team was displayed on the screen.
"XUYUWEIYI." He read almost word by word, with complacency in his voice.
"Add ten points!" He easily escaped the trap of the last word.
I was very annoyed, I knew that according to the rules of the game, the two groups scored equal, but I fouled once and they got the first place.
Amidst their cheers, I stood up, turned and walked down the stage.
Several instructors immediately surrounded me and accused me of not using foul tactics just now.
I know that if I make a foul on the last question and make the question invalid, the total score will be 10 points more for us, and the champion will be ours.
But I squeezed out of the encirclement of the instructor, threw down a hard sentence "I don't bother to do this!" and walked outside.
He stopped me, at the door of the locker room.
"Make friends!" He turned and left after saying this, leaving a small note in my hand.
That was the first time I knew his name: Li Wenjun.
I have to admit that his wild and unruly personality actually attracted me very much, and we immediately started dating.
Our two families live not far away, actually less than one kilometer apart, and the parents of both sides seem to be very willing to see two outstanding children together, so he often comes to my house to do homework, because I have ready-made math at home Teacher and physics teacher; and I also like to go to his house to play, because his father, who runs a coal mine, always brings us delicious and fun things unexpectedly, and once we even secretly opened a bottle of his family The top horse XO, his father actually laughed, and didn't even blame him. You must know that the price of this thing at that time was almost a year's salary of an ordinary worker.
We have been almost inseparable since high school: we were admitted to the same provincial key middle school and assigned to the same class.
I have to admit that I was actually jealous of him.
Although he was very envious of my height, I grew crazily at a rate of 10 centimeters per year during the three years of high school, and soon reached 1.86 meters, which worried my parents.
But compared with him, I am nothing more than a bean sprouts. Although he is only 1.78 meters, he has a body that is extremely rare in China. Huge muscles often make me mad with jealousy, even his skin is better than mine, one military training is enough to turn me into a black loach, and you can't see any difference in skin color when he takes off his vest.
Once he proudly said in front of me that he had measured it, and that his length, width, and height above and below his belly button were perfectly in line with the golden ratio. At that time, my first reaction was to kick him hard.
But this doesn't seem to affect us at all. In summer, I often appear in front of the world in black and white (even until now I still maintain the habit of still black), we know that these two tall and outstanding boys go together How many envious eyes will be attracted when we are together, and we seem to enjoy this kind of eyes very much. While discussing Nietzsche, Schopenhauer, and Freud, which none of the classmates understand, we laugh heartily as if no one else is around, and this kind of laughter The sound seems to infect the entire campus.
While sharing little secrets about physical development, we also share knowledge.
I often tell him very seriously that a certain question in the math book is simply wrong, and then we seriously go to the math teacher to report the situation; or I find that there are so many formulas in a certain chapter of the physics textbook. It's all nonsense, remembering one is enough to deduce them all.
And he often told me that the simple style made him feel not only that there is no one before, but also that there must be no one in the future; or he said very seriously that the image of Monkey King in Wu Chengen's work was actually plagiarized from the Indian epic "Majjayana".
This kind of communication has gradually made the teacher feel very embarrassed, because every time there are various competitions in the school, we can only be distinguished from each other by the format or the decimal point.
Time flies in our friendship, and three years have passed in a flash.
After the college entrance examination, he went to a famous university in Beijing, and I got admitted to a medical school as I wished.
I remember that the last time we met when I was a student was at his school, a New Year's Day.
With fireworks in our hands, we watched the fireworks burning silently in the corridor outside his dormitory on the third floor, with smiles in our eyes, but we didn't say a word.
At that time, I was thinking, thank God for giving me such a good friend!
After graduating from university, I could occasionally hear some news about Li Wenjun from my parents’ long-distance calls: He graduated a year earlier than me and did not report to a large state-owned enterprise as assigned by the school, but borrowed two years from his father. Thousands of dollars entered the sea of business. His investment vision is very unique. He started with a small video hall, and soon expanded to entertainment facilities such as billiards and bowling. It is even said that he has already owned seven or eight restaurants. I also ran into him once on the streets of my hometown. He was holding a beautiful girlfriend on his arm, a girl who was his childhood sweetheart. Her eyes were a little more sophisticated and oily, but they were still sharp. And now I am working as a small surgeon in a hospital far away from my hometown. The life of a resident doctor is doomed to have no vacations at all, and even Saturdays and Sundays must go to the ward rounds-patients will not rest because of weekends. I was so oppressed by life that I couldn't even breathe when I served the half-baked New Year's Eve dinner made by the big canteen on New Year's Eve, I could only smile wryly, and I didn't even feel like complaining. In this kind of life, I slowly lost the news of my hometown, and also lost his tracks, until one day, I turned on the TV and saw him as a guest of an entertainment program, talking happily about a certain island in Fujian How beautiful it is, and how pleasant it is to enjoy a week of two-person world with my girlfriend there. I suddenly wanted to call him, but I had just retired from a 14-hour operation, and I hadn't had time. Make a phone call and fall asleep. After waking up, I also seem to have lost the desire to contact him. I feel that the route of our lives has gone farther and farther. We seem to be two straight lines. We have crossed and collided with beautiful sparks, but I don’t think we are. Will intersect a second time, Plane Geometry tells me. But the road of life is not a straight line, and life is by no means flat geometry. I was wrong, very wrong. When I met him again, I happened to be out of the emergency department. I have to say that it is hardly human work, every night shift will always be surrounded by a dozen patients, and there are still a lot of patients with knife wounds, fractures, burns, etc. lying in the intensive care unit next to it. further processing. And when he appeared, I happened to be in such a state: I was thinking in my heart whether a girl who had just had a car accident was safely sent to the ward by the nurse, surrounded by more than a dozen people with low back pain and leg pain. The old man who couldn't sleep was mechanically recording something in his hands. At this time, the only exercise I could do was to move my already numb body on the stool, or wave my hand to drive away the mosquitoes that had already rushed to my face. Although the last madness of mosquitoes in late autumn is very annoying, but I almost use this kind of exercise as the only adjustment for monotonous work. At this moment, a voice came to my ears through several layers of crowd. People automatically made way for him. I followed the sound and saw that he was bent over, his face was pale, his left waist was supported by his hands, and he was moaning in pain. The pain had distorted his voice so completely that I didn't recognize him until he lifted his face. But we didn't have time to make any pleasantries. At this time, our roles were doctors and patients. He introduced to me that this is an old problem, and handed over a B-ultrasound report six months ago: left upper ureter stone, 0.5 cm in size. I tapped his left kidney area a little, and found that his face was exaggerated and distorted. So without any hesitation, I gave him an injection of pethidine and atropine. Injecting these two drugs together can often calm down painful calculus patients quickly. Stop shrinking. This kind of spasm will undoubtedly form a vicious circle with the pain-the spasm makes the pain worse, and the pain further causes the spasm. Using the combination of pethidine and atropine to break this vicious circle becomes the first choice to deal with this situation. Sure enough, he recovered soon, no different from ordinary people. About an hour and a half later, after I had changed shifts, I rushed to his bed. At this time, he was almost ready to leave. After I persuaded him to talk with me all night, I took a good look at him: In late autumn, he was wearing a long gray Pierre Cardin trench coat. He was as handsome as the Fa Ge in the movie, but his eyes obviously lost the spirit of the past and became a little gray; the tie seemed a bit out of place, as if No match for this fine textured trench coat. I didn't think much of it that night. I blamed it all on his illness, and I was obviously very excited to be reunited with my old friend. We talked for a long time that night. He talked about a recent business in my city, and he might live there for a long time, so we quickly exchanged new phone numbers and contact information, but when he asked about his girlfriend, he obviously didn't want to talk about it. Just say they broke up. The next night I couldn't wait to tell my parents the news of my reunion with him. In the conversation, his girlfriend was inevitably mentioned, and only then did I know that something bad happened: when he went swimming with his girlfriend and his girlfriend’s brother, his girlfriend’s younger brother died unfortunately, but his girlfriend’s parents insisted that he was responsible, completely Unable to accept their marriage, his girlfriend had to break up with him in tears. "I heard that he..." The father on the other end of the phone hesitated to speak. "What?" I asked. "I heard that he contracted the bad habit of taking drugs after breaking up in love. You have to be careful." The love for the child finally made the father tell the truth. My father's voice was low, but the news to me was like a bolt from the blue, and all his doubts came together that day: his tie was a street stall, which indicated that his financial situation was deteriorating rapidly; "It's too fast, and it takes time for the medicine to work; his eyes are actually wandering apart from being gray... After a long time, I realized that I didn't hang up the phone, and there was only a buzzing sound from the other end of the phone. I ran into him again on my next night shift. The consulting room was surprisingly quiet this time. His face was a little embarrassing, as if he had noticed something from my cold gaze. But I still don't want to believe that he came to me to defraud Dulantin. He still held the B-ultrasound report in his hand, and I insisted that he go for a urine test. I know that the colic of kidney stones is often due to severe spasms, and the stones will cut the ureter, causing hematuria. He went, but he didn't come out of the bathroom for a long time, so I went in and found him holding a thumbtack with a pricked finger and blood dripping into urine. He's an old hand, and I'm almost furious. His face changed drastically, and he knelt down on the bathroom floor with a plop. Before I could react, his head hit the mosaic hard. When he raised his head, time seemed to be frozen at that moment. I was stunned by everything in front of me. His left forehead was cut by a mosaic, and a blood flower bloomed on his forehead. The bright red blood and his face His paleness was in such stark contrast that I couldn't move my eyes at all, and all I could see from his face was the drug-craving and whining. My heart hurts like it's being torn apart. "Get up! If you're a man, go to detox!" I yelled hoarsely after waking up. "Be quiet, be quiet!" He was still trying to beg. Seeing the onlookers gradually approaching, he slammed the door and walked out of the bathroom. It was the last time I saw him have such a pitiful sliver of self-respect, if that can be called a self-respect. Early the next morning, the nurse told me anxiously that the anesthesia cabinet in the emergency department had been stolen. I reported the case to the Public Security Bureau, but the case has not been solved, but we changed a safe, a very strong safe to hold narcotic psychotropic drugs. I didn't see him again for a long time. Time is the best doctor to heal the trauma of the heart. It will slowly erase this painful experience in my memory, and I am obviously very reluctant to recall this painful past. Day by day, I was like an ostrich with my head buried in the sand, imagining that this matter would end like this, and I would never see him again, but I was still wrong.
: Looking at the sea, full of tiredness, no tears and speechless; looking at the sky, only feeling confused.My heart is like a small wooden boat, the distant view is gone, but it is still moving forward.Who dominates me in my life, struggling in the sea of people every day, sighing in my heart that the years are like water.You can't keep yesterday, leaving only missing, a string of forever lingering in the vast mist.I miss the past years, the appearance has changed long ago, the situation has changed, and the feelings have not cooled.
Half a year later, I was transferred to the General Surgery Department of the Inpatient Department. It was a sunny day, at least when the operation is done and the patient is sent away, you know that they will return to a healthy life, instead of feeling very sad when sending the patient away like in the Department of Respiratory Medicine and Cardiovascular Medicine. Knowing that they will come again, the only problem is when they will come again and whether they can be discharged next time - so I stayed in the general surgery, and almost didn't want to leave, and the director of the general surgery seems to like me very much. The young man who looked at me was always smiling. It was my turn to admit new patients on that day, which we had about once a week. It’s almost the end of get off work and no new patient has come to the hospital. The nurse is planning to celebrate today’s leisure with me. Two frantic policemen dragged a skinny guy to the ward, and the nurse’s face grew a little—— This will obviously delay her date with her boyfriend after get off work. Only after seeing the inpatient medical records compiled by the nurses did I realize that the patient was actually Li Wenjun. When I walked to his hospital bed, I looked at him carefully and couldn't believe my eyes. His clothes were dirty and torn, he was no different from a beggar, and his body smelled so bad that the patients in the same room would run off to nowhere as long as they could walk. It can be seen that his muscles and vitality are shrinking rapidly, so that there is too much skin on his body than needed, useless skin is folded and slack ugly all over his body; and his eyes are gone With a hint of agility, what he saw through his pupils was nothing but nothing. I quickly figured out the situation. The officers from the police station planned to arrest him and send him to his hometown for compulsory drug rehabilitation, but he suddenly rushed to the shoe repair stall by the roadside and swallowed a handful of spikes when the police were caught off guard. Send him for treatment. I'm holding that X-ray in my hand. Twenty pieces. Twenty sharp spikes. I can hardly imagine how he swallowed these things. Doesn't he have a normal sense of pain?At this moment, these twenty shoe spikes are distributed from the stomach to the ileocecal part (the place where the appendix is long, where the intestines are bent at 90 degrees, and there is a very narrow opening, it is generally difficult for foreign objects to pass through), which is several meters away. Several of them had obviously punctured his digestive tract, and he had already developed symptoms of peritonitis. I have removed necklaces, rings, and even roundworms from the digestive tract, but this is the first time that there are so many spikes and they are distributed in such a wide range. (By the way, the legend of suicide by swallowing gold is widely spread in China, but I have never seen such a successful suicide case: the physical and chemical properties of gold are so stable that when I take it out of the patient's stomach and return it to the family They couldn't tell that it had made a trip in the stomach: the only side effect of swallowing gold is likely to be an ugly scar on your stomach.) After removing all twenty nails, I couldn't even stand up. I know it's definitely not due to physical strength, because I once stood on the operating table for seventeen hours straight, and when I stepped off the stage and saw the patient's smile, I could do a few more cartwheels. But this time, an uncomplicated operation made me sweat through my heavy clothes, and I sat down in a dark corner of the locker room, smoking a stuffy cigarette, without saying a word. I can no longer determine how much of the human element remains in him. In my opinion, he is just wearing human skin. His whole body and soul have undoubtedly been completely occupied by the demon of drugs. I don't know how long I'll be sitting alone in the dark. I didn't even want to look at him for the rest of the day. I pretended not to know him, and checked the room indifferently, and I couldn't see that he wanted to recognize me at all. I thought he had to be more honest before he was discharged from the hospital. But no, he caught the police off guard and ran away, the day before I was going to remove his stitches. His escape obviously made the police think it was an insult. The young policemen all took the initiative to fight and vowed to catch him back to the ends of the earth. In fact, how far can he run as a penniless person who is tortured by drugs and is weak at the same time?The police found him the next day in an abandoned shanty town where crack junkies like him often hang out. So he was sent back to his hometown for compulsory drug rehabilitation. I think this is a good thing, at least he will not have access to drugs while in custody. After half a year, he came home, his complexion improved a lot, and he became more honest. This obviously gave his father great comfort. He even called me to tell me about his son's progress. Later I heard that he got married, found a simple country girl, and lived in the countryside. Later I found out that this was arranged by his father, the purpose was to prevent him from getting in touch with his former drug friends again. I think this decision is extremely wise. Although life in the country is much simpler, it will undoubtedly allow him to live as a human being, not a devil. I thought this matter ended like this, and my mood has calmed down. I almost feel that this is a perfect ending, perfect beyond my imagination. But reality shattered my dream again. Once when I was on duty, he came again, and was dragged by the police again. From the aggrieved complaint of the little policeman who had just started working, I knew the whole story: this time his father saw that he hadn’t taken drugs for more than a year, so he lent him a sum of money to start a business, trying to make him Comeback. And he spent all his money on drugs within a few days, and was once again penniless. This time the police were much smarter in arresting him, not giving him any chance to grab the spikes, but he was also much more cunning, and he removed the windhook from the window of the detention room and swallowed it. He was able to swallow the foreign body again, but I didn't want to go through the torture of operating on him again, so I went to the director, explained the whole thing to him, and begged him to assign any doctor to take over my task. The director listened to my narration silently, and asked me with a smile: "Do you know the story about Bethune's operation under artillery fire? Why did he do this?" "He is brave!" I didn't understand what the director meant for a while. . The director shook his head slowly, and said with a smile: "If he was on the operating table, I believe Bethune would have avoided shells like a normal person. But he was on the operating table, and his role was that of a surgeon. , I think Bethune didn’t pay attention to the artillery fire when he played the role of a surgeon, and he might not even know the existence of the artillery fire.” I lowered my head, thoughtful. The director smiled and said: "Go, you are a smart man, you don't need a heavy hammer to beat the drum, I think you will understand what I mean." When I think back to this sentence many years later, I think it changed my life. Now I am no longer a surgeon, but this passage made me understand the difference between work and life. When I am a forensic doctor, I am a forensic doctor who is not moved by personal feelings; and when I finish my work, I will return to the role of a normal person. Countless joys and sorrows can make me calm as a forensic doctor, but I can never make me calm down. As an ordinary person, I was numb. So everything seemed to be repeating itself: the same operating room, the same me and him. The only difference was that the anesthetist was changed, and obviously he also knew the story, so he said impatiently to Wen Jun: "Should we put a zipper on your stomach to save you from swallowing something next time? "Then he opted for a form of anesthesia that is not commonly used in this situation: ketamine split anesthesia. This type of anesthesia is the simplest: the anesthetist only needs to give the patient an injection; but this type of anesthesia is called split anesthesia because it only anesthetizes the patient's pain, in fact the patient will clearly feel it during the operation I feel that my body is being stretched and cut, but it doesn’t hurt. Therefore, unless it is an operation that requires close observation of the patient’s condition, such as a pediatric operation, we generally do not use this type of anesthesia. In addition, this type of anesthesia There is also a side effect, since it does not cause relaxation of the patient's muscles, the incision is relatively large. I think the anesthetist wanted to punish Li Wenjun on purpose. The choice of anesthesia method is their business, I don't want to talk too much, so I choose to concentrate on playing the role of my surgeon. The operation was a success. I successfully took out the twelve centimeter long windhook. After the operation, when I returned to normal, I decided to have a good talk with him. I chose one night to come to his ward. The other patients were absent, and he was evidently being avoided by everyone. His right hand was handcuffed to the head of the bed, the lights in the room were not turned on, and a crescent moon hung in the sky, casting cold light on me and him through the window. I sat on the head of his bed, with my back to him, and slowly opened my mouth. I talked a lot that night. I don't know if I am incoherent, but my story is full of affection. I started from the good memories of our youth and continued to talk about his transformation. It can be said that I was heartbroken. I think as long as he is a person, as long as he is not a grass, he will be moved by me. But I didn't see any reaction from him, so I turned around and he looked at me with long-lost fire in his eyes and said, "What did you call me during the surgery? Feels better than any drug , can you give me another injection?" I couldn't believe my ears, I was stunned and couldn't say a word. He thought I didn't hear clearly, so he happily told me how he was so ecstatic during the operation, and finally added: "Give me another injection!" I said to the door: "You can do it yourself." I never looked back. These are the last words I will say to him in my life. At that time, I didn't know why he felt that ketamine would feel so good. Years later, when I became a forensic doctor, I realized that ketamine was the chemical component of drug K powder. Seven days after the operation, I asked an intern to remove the stitches, and the police immediately took him away. I did not speak another word to him, but news of him continued to reach my ears. He was taken back to his hometown for compulsory drug rehab; the day after he came out of the drug rehab center he went to do drugs again; debt collectors took away all his father's valuables; his parents divorced; It is possible to quit. I don’t hesitate to try drugs myself, but I also become addicted to drugs... I feel that drugs are an abyss. An abyss you can never see the bottom of. When a person is addicted to drugs, not only himself, but also his family and anyone related to him may slide into this abyss, and keep sliding down, without knowing where it will end.
, It was very shocking at the time, and now I feel the same way when I read the blog of Brother Doctor. I really hope that there will be no such things as drugs in the world.
The period of graduate school in forensic pathology brought me back to the long-lost student life. One summer vacation, I went to visit his father. The once resplendent home in my eyes is now dilapidated, and a note on the door that says "Those who lend money to Li Wenjun shall bear the consequences" has long been bleached by the years, trembling in the breeze. His father was surprisingly old. His hair has long since turned gray, and his back is bent: in my memory, he is a man of true pride. His father was taken aback when he saw me, and immediately invited me into the house. This house is really empty, and there are still various awards from Wenjun's childhood hanging on the wall, and the trophy for the quiz competition is placed on the most conspicuous cabinet in the house. Touching these certificates and trophies, the past events emerged one by one in front of me. My heart was full of mixed feelings, and tears could hardly be restrained from welling up in my eyes. His father told me that Wenjun was hospitalized. Last week, Wen Jun was caught stealing, jumped from the third floor and broke his leg. It's lunch time now, and he's about to deliver the meal. I was speechless, shook his father's hand, forced him two hundred dollars, and quickly fled this heavy place. On the day Wenjun was discharged from the hospital, I came to his home again by a strange mistake. He still had a cast on his leg and was lying on the bed with his face against the wall, smoking a cigarette. At this moment, he is not a person at all: his eyes are deeply sunken, the eye circles are as black as if they have been dyed with ink, his body is so thin that every rib can be counted, and his knee joints are swollen strangely. The thickest part of the lower extremity, the thigh, all you can see is the femur covered by a layer of skin - even every bump and depression of the femur can be seen. Suddenly, his father noticed the abnormality, grabbed his cigarette, threw it on the ground, stomped on it fiercely, and asked him, "Where did this come from? Where did you bring it back?" Before he had time to react, his father pulled out a belt and yanked it at Wen Jun. The belt was pulled on his face and body. I couldn't see Wen Jun's reaction. He hardly blinked his eyes. I couldn't even see the traces of subcutaneous bleeding on his skin: I doubt whether there is any blood on his body. How much blood can circulate. Wen Jun was indifferent, but his father couldn't do anything. Panting heavily, he threw the belt aside, sat on the ground and began to cry. I never knew that a man could cry so sadly. The flood that broke through the levee is like a beast that can't find an exit in the forest. Crying and crying, he stood up suddenly, grabbed the quiz trophy and was about to fall to the ground. I grabbed the trophy, wrapped his father in my arms, and let a man's tears fall on my shoulders. That was the last time I saw Wenjun alive. For whatever reason, I took that trophy with me. The last time I met Wen Jun was when he was lying on the dissecting table. Someone found an unnamed corpse next to the railway, and the preliminary inspection by the police found some marks on his body that could not be explained by the train running over him, so he was sent to us. I recognized him at a glance as Wen Jun, even though his body and head had been separated at the moment. I even recognized that birthmark around his navel, I remember joking as a kid that it looked like a piglet. I still took fingerprints for him according to the requirements of forensic work. I know that he has a criminal record, so it is not a problem to confirm his identity. After looking at the injuries and marks on his body, I came to the scene. I wanted to find something from the scene to explain the police's doubts. In fact, the police also tended to think that he committed suicide, because there was a suicide note written on a cigarette box beside him, although there were only three words on it, "I'm leaving". He even put a stone on it to prevent the suicide note from being swept away by the wind. These are irrefutable evidence that he committed suicide. What the police think is questionable is why his body is wet and there are scars on his neck and head. . Looking at the environment around the scene, I understand what happened. He first tried to drown himself in the small river, but his survival instinct made him swim up; then he tried to kill himself with a stone, he took a stone and hit himself on the head desperately, but his frail body still let him go. He failed; then he wanted to hang himself, his atrophied muscles prevented him from climbing that high, so he failed; finally he chose to lie on the rails, he chose a place where the train curves to ensure that the driver would not see him first, This time, he finally succeeded. Neither my colleagues nor I had ever seen such a complex suicide, so we had an argument about the mental state of the deceased before death. My colleague believes that normal people have survival instincts, and it is difficult to attempt a second suicide after a failed suicide attempt, not to mention that he committed suicide four times in total; his previous behavior of swallowing foreign objects further confirmed this point, and his mental state There was a problem, and the reason for his insanity: drug use. But I insist that every time he swallowed a foreign body before was purposeful, which is not enough to explain his abnormal mental state, and his choice of suicide bend, suicide note, and placement of suicide note undoubtedly prove that even if he is dying It was all very sober and even sensible before. None of us can convince anyone, but fortunately, this does not affect our judgment on the way of his death: suicide. But the problems didn't end there: no one claimed his body. Only then did I know that his father had died of a cerebral hemorrhage half a year ago; and his wife, when I found her, was already a drug addict who had lost her soul, because the syphilis contracted by prostitution made her whole body horrified. Festering in fear, she has completely lost her response to the outside world.
I stood beside this loess. Three days ago, I brought Wenjun's ashes back to my hometown. Before I left, I decided to take another look at him. 天上下着小雨，飘零的雨丝正如我剪不断、理还乱的思绪漫天飞舞，飘累了，就在我的肩头，他的新坟上停下来，休息一下，转眼又不知道飞到那里去了。 我把那个奖杯带来，安放在他的坟头。 虽然他活着的时候人不如鬼，但是他最终用死亡逃脱了毒品这个恶魔，一如凤凰涅，在临死前的那一刻，我相信他的灵魂是清白的。 此刻在天国的他，已经摆脱毒魔的控制，终获自由的他，应当重新获得这份荣誉。 愿文军在天国安息。
After graduating from university, I could occasionally hear some news about Li Wenjun from my parents’ long-distance calls: He graduated a year earlier than me and did not report to a large state-owned enterprise as assigned by the school, but borrowed two years from his father. Thousands of dollars entered the sea of business. His investment vision is very unique. He started with a small video hall, and soon expanded to entertainment facilities such as billiards and bowling. It is even said that he has already owned seven or eight restaurants. I also ran into him once on the streets of my hometown. He was holding a beautiful girlfriend on his arm, a girl who was his childhood sweetheart. Her eyes were a little more sophisticated and oily, but they were still sharp. And now I am working as a small surgeon in a hospital far away from my hometown. The life of a resident doctor is doomed to have no vacations at all, and even Saturdays and Sundays must go to the ward rounds-patients will not rest because of weekends. I was so oppressed by life that I couldn't even breathe when I served the half-baked New Year's Eve dinner made by the big canteen on New Year's Eve, I could only smile wryly, and I didn't even feel like complaining. In this kind of life, I slowly lost the news of my hometown, and also lost his tracks, until one day, I turned on the TV and saw him as a guest of an entertainment program, talking happily about a certain island in Fujian How beautiful it is, and how pleasant it is to enjoy a week of two-person world with my girlfriend there. I suddenly wanted to call him, but I had just retired from a 14-hour operation, and I hadn't had time. Make a phone call and fall asleep. After waking up, I also seem to have lost the desire to contact him. I feel that the route of our lives has gone farther and farther. We seem to be two straight lines. We have crossed and collided with beautiful sparks, but I don’t think we are. Will intersect a second time, Plane Geometry tells me. But the road of life is not a straight line, and life is by no means flat geometry. I was wrong, very wrong. When I met him again, I happened to be out of the emergency department. I have to say that it is hardly human work, every night shift will always be surrounded by a dozen patients, and there are still a lot of patients with knife wounds, fractures, burns, etc. lying in the intensive care unit next to it. further processing. And when he appeared, I happened to be in such a state: I was thinking in my heart whether a girl who had just had a car accident was safely sent to the ward by the nurse, surrounded by more than a dozen people with low back pain and leg pain. The old man who couldn't sleep was mechanically recording something in his hands. At this time, the only exercise I could do was to move my already numb body on the stool, or wave my hand to drive away the mosquitoes that had already rushed to my face. Although the last madness of mosquitoes in late autumn is very annoying, but I almost use this kind of exercise as the only adjustment for monotonous work. At this moment, a voice came to my ears through several layers of crowd. People automatically made way for him. I followed the sound and saw that he was bent over, his face was pale, his left waist was supported by his hands, and he was moaning in pain. The pain had distorted his voice so completely that I didn't recognize him until he lifted his face. But we didn't have time to make any pleasantries. At this time, our roles were doctors and patients. He introduced to me that this is an old problem, and handed over a B-ultrasound report six months ago: left upper ureter stone, 0.5 cm in size. I tapped his left kidney area a little, and found that his face was exaggerated and distorted. So without any hesitation, I gave him an injection of pethidine and atropine. Injecting these two drugs together can often calm down painful calculus patients quickly. Stop shrinking. This kind of spasm will undoubtedly form a vicious circle with the pain-the spasm makes the pain worse, and the pain further causes the spasm. Using the combination of pethidine and atropine to break this vicious circle becomes the first choice to deal with this situation. Sure enough, he recovered soon, no different from ordinary people. About an hour and a half later, after I had changed shifts, I rushed to his bed. At this time, he was almost ready to leave. After I persuaded him to talk with me all night, I took a good look at him: In late autumn, he was wearing a long gray Pierre Cardin trench coat. He was as handsome as the Fa Ge in the movie, but his eyes obviously lost the spirit of the past and became a little gray; the tie seemed a bit out of place, as if No match for this fine textured trench coat. I didn't think much of it that night. I blamed it all on his illness, and I was obviously very excited to be reunited with my old friend. We talked for a long time that night. He talked about a recent business in my city, and he might live there for a long time, so we quickly exchanged new phone numbers and contact information, but when he asked about his girlfriend, he obviously didn't want to talk about it. Just say they broke up. The next night I couldn't wait to tell my parents the news of my reunion with him. In the conversation, his girlfriend was inevitably mentioned, and only then did I know that something bad happened: when he went swimming with his girlfriend and his girlfriend’s brother, his girlfriend’s younger brother died unfortunately, but his girlfriend’s parents insisted that he was responsible, completely Unable to accept their marriage, his girlfriend had to break up with him in tears. "I heard that he..." The father on the other end of the phone hesitated to speak. "What?" I asked. "I heard that he contracted the bad habit of taking drugs after breaking up in love. You have to be careful." The love for the child finally made the father tell the truth. My father's voice was low, but the news to me was like a bolt from the blue, and all his doubts came together that day: his tie was a street stall, which indicated that his financial situation was deteriorating rapidly; "It's too fast, and it takes time for the medicine to work; his eyes are actually wandering apart from being gray... After a long time, I realized that I didn't hang up the phone, and there was only a buzzing sound from the other end of the phone. I ran into him again on my next night shift. The consulting room was surprisingly quiet this time. His face was a little embarrassing, as if he had noticed something from my cold gaze. But I still don't want to believe that he came to me to defraud Dulantin. He still held the B-ultrasound report in his hand, and I insisted that he go for a urine test. I know that the colic of kidney stones is often due to severe spasms, and the stones will cut the ureter, causing hematuria. He went, but he didn't come out of the bathroom for a long time, so I went in and found him holding a thumbtack with a pricked finger and blood dripping into urine. He's an old hand, and I'm almost furious. His face changed drastically, and he knelt down on the bathroom floor with a plop. Before I could react, his head hit the mosaic hard. When he raised his head, time seemed to be frozen at that moment. I was stunned by everything in front of me. His left forehead was cut by a mosaic, and a blood flower bloomed on his forehead. The bright red blood and his face His paleness was in such stark contrast that I couldn't move my eyes at all, and all I could see from his face was the drug-craving and whining. My heart hurts like it's being torn apart. "Get up! If you're a man, go to detox!" I yelled hoarsely after waking up. "Be quiet, be quiet!" He was still trying to beg. Seeing the onlookers gradually approaching, he slammed the door and walked out of the bathroom. It was the last time I saw him have such a pitiful sliver of self-respect, if that can be called a self-respect. Early the next morning, the nurse told me anxiously that the anesthesia cabinet in the emergency department had been stolen. I reported the case to the Public Security Bureau, but the case has not been solved, but we changed a safe, a very strong safe to hold narcotic psychotropic drugs. I didn't see him again for a long time. Time is the best doctor to heal the trauma of the heart. It will slowly erase this painful experience in my memory, and I am obviously very reluctant to recall this painful past. Day by day, I was like an ostrich with my head buried in the sand, imagining that this matter would end like this, and I would never see him again, but I was still wrong.
: Looking at the sea, full of tiredness, no tears and speechless; looking at the sky, only feeling confused.My heart is like a small wooden boat, the distant view is gone, but it is still moving forward.Who dominates me in my life, struggling in the sea of people every day, sighing in my heart that the years are like water.You can't keep yesterday, leaving only missing, a string of forever lingering in the vast mist.I miss the past years, the appearance has changed long ago, the situation has changed, and the feelings have not cooled.
Half a year later, I was transferred to the General Surgery Department of the Inpatient Department. It was a sunny day, at least when the operation is done and the patient is sent away, you know that they will return to a healthy life, instead of feeling very sad when sending the patient away like in the Department of Respiratory Medicine and Cardiovascular Medicine. Knowing that they will come again, the only problem is when they will come again and whether they can be discharged next time - so I stayed in the general surgery, and almost didn't want to leave, and the director of the general surgery seems to like me very much. The young man who looked at me was always smiling. It was my turn to admit new patients on that day, which we had about once a week. It’s almost the end of get off work and no new patient has come to the hospital. The nurse is planning to celebrate today’s leisure with me. Two frantic policemen dragged a skinny guy to the ward, and the nurse’s face grew a little—— This will obviously delay her date with her boyfriend after get off work. Only after seeing the inpatient medical records compiled by the nurses did I realize that the patient was actually Li Wenjun. When I walked to his hospital bed, I looked at him carefully and couldn't believe my eyes. His clothes were dirty and torn, he was no different from a beggar, and his body smelled so bad that the patients in the same room would run off to nowhere as long as they could walk. It can be seen that his muscles and vitality are shrinking rapidly, so that there is too much skin on his body than needed, useless skin is folded and slack ugly all over his body; and his eyes are gone With a hint of agility, what he saw through his pupils was nothing but nothing. I quickly figured out the situation. The officers from the police station planned to arrest him and send him to his hometown for compulsory drug rehabilitation, but he suddenly rushed to the shoe repair stall by the roadside and swallowed a handful of spikes when the police were caught off guard. Send him for treatment. I'm holding that X-ray in my hand. Twenty pieces. Twenty sharp spikes. I can hardly imagine how he swallowed these things. Doesn't he have a normal sense of pain?At this moment, these twenty shoe spikes are distributed from the stomach to the ileocecal part (the place where the appendix is long, where the intestines are bent at 90 degrees, and there is a very narrow opening, it is generally difficult for foreign objects to pass through), which is several meters away. Several of them had obviously punctured his digestive tract, and he had already developed symptoms of peritonitis. I have removed necklaces, rings, and even roundworms from the digestive tract, but this is the first time that there are so many spikes and they are distributed in such a wide range. (By the way, the legend of suicide by swallowing gold is widely spread in China, but I have never seen such a successful suicide case: the physical and chemical properties of gold are so stable that when I take it out of the patient's stomach and return it to the family They couldn't tell that it had made a trip in the stomach: the only side effect of swallowing gold is likely to be an ugly scar on your stomach.) After removing all twenty nails, I couldn't even stand up. I know it's definitely not due to physical strength, because I once stood on the operating table for seventeen hours straight, and when I stepped off the stage and saw the patient's smile, I could do a few more cartwheels. But this time, an uncomplicated operation made me sweat through my heavy clothes, and I sat down in a dark corner of the locker room, smoking a stuffy cigarette, without saying a word. I can no longer determine how much of the human element remains in him. In my opinion, he is just wearing human skin. His whole body and soul have undoubtedly been completely occupied by the demon of drugs. I don't know how long I'll be sitting alone in the dark. I didn't even want to look at him for the rest of the day. I pretended not to know him, and checked the room indifferently, and I couldn't see that he wanted to recognize me at all. I thought he had to be more honest before he was discharged from the hospital. But no, he caught the police off guard and ran away, the day before I was going to remove his stitches. His escape obviously made the police think it was an insult. The young policemen all took the initiative to fight and vowed to catch him back to the ends of the earth. In fact, how far can he run as a penniless person who is tortured by drugs and is weak at the same time?The police found him the next day in an abandoned shanty town where crack junkies like him often hang out. So he was sent back to his hometown for compulsory drug rehabilitation. I think this is a good thing, at least he will not have access to drugs while in custody. After half a year, he came home, his complexion improved a lot, and he became more honest. This obviously gave his father great comfort. He even called me to tell me about his son's progress. Later I heard that he got married, found a simple country girl, and lived in the countryside. Later I found out that this was arranged by his father, the purpose was to prevent him from getting in touch with his former drug friends again. I think this decision is extremely wise. Although life in the country is much simpler, it will undoubtedly allow him to live as a human being, not a devil. I thought this matter ended like this, and my mood has calmed down. I almost feel that this is a perfect ending, perfect beyond my imagination. But reality shattered my dream again. Once when I was on duty, he came again, and was dragged by the police again. From the aggrieved complaint of the little policeman who had just started working, I knew the whole story: this time his father saw that he hadn’t taken drugs for more than a year, so he lent him a sum of money to start a business, trying to make him Comeback. And he spent all his money on drugs within a few days, and was once again penniless. This time the police were much smarter in arresting him, not giving him any chance to grab the spikes, but he was also much more cunning, and he removed the windhook from the window of the detention room and swallowed it. He was able to swallow the foreign body again, but I didn't want to go through the torture of operating on him again, so I went to the director, explained the whole thing to him, and begged him to assign any doctor to take over my task. The director listened to my narration silently, and asked me with a smile: "Do you know the story about Bethune's operation under artillery fire? Why did he do this?" "He is brave!" I didn't understand what the director meant for a while. . The director shook his head slowly, and said with a smile: "If he was on the operating table, I believe Bethune would have avoided shells like a normal person. But he was on the operating table, and his role was that of a surgeon. , I think Bethune didn’t pay attention to the artillery fire when he played the role of a surgeon, and he might not even know the existence of the artillery fire.” I lowered my head, thoughtful. The director smiled and said: "Go, you are a smart man, you don't need a heavy hammer to beat the drum, I think you will understand what I mean." When I think back to this sentence many years later, I think it changed my life. Now I am no longer a surgeon, but this passage made me understand the difference between work and life. When I am a forensic doctor, I am a forensic doctor who is not moved by personal feelings; and when I finish my work, I will return to the role of a normal person. Countless joys and sorrows can make me calm as a forensic doctor, but I can never make me calm down. As an ordinary person, I was numb. So everything seemed to be repeating itself: the same operating room, the same me and him. The only difference was that the anesthetist was changed, and obviously he also knew the story, so he said impatiently to Wen Jun: "Should we put a zipper on your stomach to save you from swallowing something next time? "Then he opted for a form of anesthesia that is not commonly used in this situation: ketamine split anesthesia. This type of anesthesia is the simplest: the anesthetist only needs to give the patient an injection; but this type of anesthesia is called split anesthesia because it only anesthetizes the patient's pain, in fact the patient will clearly feel it during the operation I feel that my body is being stretched and cut, but it doesn’t hurt. Therefore, unless it is an operation that requires close observation of the patient’s condition, such as a pediatric operation, we generally do not use this type of anesthesia. In addition, this type of anesthesia There is also a side effect, since it does not cause relaxation of the patient's muscles, the incision is relatively large. I think the anesthetist wanted to punish Li Wenjun on purpose. The choice of anesthesia method is their business, I don't want to talk too much, so I choose to concentrate on playing the role of my surgeon. The operation was a success. I successfully took out the twelve centimeter long windhook. After the operation, when I returned to normal, I decided to have a good talk with him. I chose one night to come to his ward. The other patients were absent, and he was evidently being avoided by everyone. His right hand was handcuffed to the head of the bed, the lights in the room were not turned on, and a crescent moon hung in the sky, casting cold light on me and him through the window. I sat on the head of his bed, with my back to him, and slowly opened my mouth. I talked a lot that night. I don't know if I am incoherent, but my story is full of affection. I started from the good memories of our youth and continued to talk about his transformation. It can be said that I was heartbroken. I think as long as he is a person, as long as he is not a grass, he will be moved by me. But I didn't see any reaction from him, so I turned around and he looked at me with long-lost fire in his eyes and said, "What did you call me during the surgery? Feels better than any drug , can you give me another injection?" I couldn't believe my ears, I was stunned and couldn't say a word. He thought I didn't hear clearly, so he happily told me how he was so ecstatic during the operation, and finally added: "Give me another injection!" I said to the door: "You can do it yourself." I never looked back. These are the last words I will say to him in my life. At that time, I didn't know why he felt that ketamine would feel so good. Years later, when I became a forensic doctor, I realized that ketamine was the chemical component of drug K powder. Seven days after the operation, I asked an intern to remove the stitches, and the police immediately took him away. I did not speak another word to him, but news of him continued to reach my ears. He was taken back to his hometown for compulsory drug rehab; the day after he came out of the drug rehab center he went to do drugs again; debt collectors took away all his father's valuables; his parents divorced; It is possible to quit. I don’t hesitate to try drugs myself, but I also become addicted to drugs... I feel that drugs are an abyss. An abyss you can never see the bottom of. When a person is addicted to drugs, not only himself, but also his family and anyone related to him may slide into this abyss, and keep sliding down, without knowing where it will end.
, It was very shocking at the time, and now I feel the same way when I read the blog of Brother Doctor. I really hope that there will be no such things as drugs in the world.
The period of graduate school in forensic pathology brought me back to the long-lost student life. One summer vacation, I went to visit his father. The once resplendent home in my eyes is now dilapidated, and a note on the door that says "Those who lend money to Li Wenjun shall bear the consequences" has long been bleached by the years, trembling in the breeze. His father was surprisingly old. His hair has long since turned gray, and his back is bent: in my memory, he is a man of true pride. His father was taken aback when he saw me, and immediately invited me into the house. This house is really empty, and there are still various awards from Wenjun's childhood hanging on the wall, and the trophy for the quiz competition is placed on the most conspicuous cabinet in the house. Touching these certificates and trophies, the past events emerged one by one in front of me. My heart was full of mixed feelings, and tears could hardly be restrained from welling up in my eyes. His father told me that Wenjun was hospitalized. Last week, Wen Jun was caught stealing, jumped from the third floor and broke his leg. It's lunch time now, and he's about to deliver the meal. I was speechless, shook his father's hand, forced him two hundred dollars, and quickly fled this heavy place. On the day Wenjun was discharged from the hospital, I came to his home again by a strange mistake. He still had a cast on his leg and was lying on the bed with his face against the wall, smoking a cigarette. At this moment, he is not a person at all: his eyes are deeply sunken, the eye circles are as black as if they have been dyed with ink, his body is so thin that every rib can be counted, and his knee joints are swollen strangely. The thickest part of the lower extremity, the thigh, all you can see is the femur covered by a layer of skin - even every bump and depression of the femur can be seen. Suddenly, his father noticed the abnormality, grabbed his cigarette, threw it on the ground, stomped on it fiercely, and asked him, "Where did this come from? Where did you bring it back?" Before he had time to react, his father pulled out a belt and yanked it at Wen Jun. The belt was pulled on his face and body. I couldn't see Wen Jun's reaction. He hardly blinked his eyes. I couldn't even see the traces of subcutaneous bleeding on his skin: I doubt whether there is any blood on his body. How much blood can circulate. Wen Jun was indifferent, but his father couldn't do anything. Panting heavily, he threw the belt aside, sat on the ground and began to cry. I never knew that a man could cry so sadly. The flood that broke through the levee is like a beast that can't find an exit in the forest. Crying and crying, he stood up suddenly, grabbed the quiz trophy and was about to fall to the ground. I grabbed the trophy, wrapped his father in my arms, and let a man's tears fall on my shoulders. That was the last time I saw Wenjun alive. For whatever reason, I took that trophy with me. The last time I met Wen Jun was when he was lying on the dissecting table. Someone found an unnamed corpse next to the railway, and the preliminary inspection by the police found some marks on his body that could not be explained by the train running over him, so he was sent to us. I recognized him at a glance as Wen Jun, even though his body and head had been separated at the moment. I even recognized that birthmark around his navel, I remember joking as a kid that it looked like a piglet. I still took fingerprints for him according to the requirements of forensic work. I know that he has a criminal record, so it is not a problem to confirm his identity. After looking at the injuries and marks on his body, I came to the scene. I wanted to find something from the scene to explain the police's doubts. In fact, the police also tended to think that he committed suicide, because there was a suicide note written on a cigarette box beside him, although there were only three words on it, "I'm leaving". He even put a stone on it to prevent the suicide note from being swept away by the wind. These are irrefutable evidence that he committed suicide. What the police think is questionable is why his body is wet and there are scars on his neck and head. . Looking at the environment around the scene, I understand what happened. He first tried to drown himself in the small river, but his survival instinct made him swim up; then he tried to kill himself with a stone, he took a stone and hit himself on the head desperately, but his frail body still let him go. He failed; then he wanted to hang himself, his atrophied muscles prevented him from climbing that high, so he failed; finally he chose to lie on the rails, he chose a place where the train curves to ensure that the driver would not see him first, This time, he finally succeeded. Neither my colleagues nor I had ever seen such a complex suicide, so we had an argument about the mental state of the deceased before death. My colleague believes that normal people have survival instincts, and it is difficult to attempt a second suicide after a failed suicide attempt, not to mention that he committed suicide four times in total; his previous behavior of swallowing foreign objects further confirmed this point, and his mental state There was a problem, and the reason for his insanity: drug use. But I insist that every time he swallowed a foreign body before was purposeful, which is not enough to explain his abnormal mental state, and his choice of suicide bend, suicide note, and placement of suicide note undoubtedly prove that even if he is dying It was all very sober and even sensible before. None of us can convince anyone, but fortunately, this does not affect our judgment on the way of his death: suicide. But the problems didn't end there: no one claimed his body. Only then did I know that his father had died of a cerebral hemorrhage half a year ago; and his wife, when I found her, was already a drug addict who had lost her soul, because the syphilis contracted by prostitution made her whole body horrified. Festering in fear, she has completely lost her response to the outside world.
I stood beside this loess. Three days ago, I brought Wenjun's ashes back to my hometown. Before I left, I decided to take another look at him. 天上下着小雨，飘零的雨丝正如我剪不断、理还乱的思绪漫天飞舞，飘累了，就在我的肩头，他的新坟上停下来，休息一下，转眼又不知道飞到那里去了。 我把那个奖杯带来，安放在他的坟头。 虽然他活着的时候人不如鬼，但是他最终用死亡逃脱了毒品这个恶魔，一如凤凰涅，在临死前的那一刻，我相信他的灵魂是清白的。 此刻在天国的他，已经摆脱毒魔的控制，终获自由的他，应当重新获得这份荣誉。 愿文军在天国安息。