CHAPTER 380: 353 CAN TRADITIONAL CHINESE MEDICINE PROVIDE EMERGENCY TREATMENT?

Unexpectedly, not only was Doctor Du skilled in internal medicine, but it seemed his orthopedics skills were also quite impressive. However, Cao Binghe was only slightly surprised by Du Heng’s "skills"; his attention was still drawn to the fallen Lan Changhua. Seeing that Du Heng had already subdued the suddenly violent man, Cao Binghe hurried to Lan Changhua’s side.

As for the two individuals beside Lan Changhua, Du Heng was also thoroughly "impressed." The female doctor, who had been shielded from the stun gun by Lan Changhua, stared blankly, both hands covering her mouth. She stood there like a complete fool, her mouth agape in an O-shape, dumbly watching the scene unfold, completely devoid of the unyielding spirit she had displayed when confronting others moments before. As for the male student wearing an intern’s badge, the wretched fellow had instantly leaped backward, keeping his distance. Only when he saw Du Heng kick the dropped stun gun away and position himself before the assailant did he scramble frantically toward Lan Changhua.

Concerned for his Teacher, Cao Binghe rushed over, calling out, "Teacher!" and immediately began his examination. Lan Changhua’s face was ashen, his lips tightly shut. It was unclear whether he had been stunned by the electricity or by the fall. Either way, it was clearly not a pleasant experience. Even if Du Heng didn’t know precisely how many volts the stun gun discharged or what the current sounded like, the sharp BUZZ it had made was definitely louder than a household appliance short-circuiting. Besides, for a seventy-year-old man to be electrocuted like that and then fall rigidly to the ground—it must have been agonizing.

The moment Cao Binghe saw his Teacher wasn’t breathing and after listening to his chest for a heartbeat, he immediately assumed the standard cardiopulmonary resuscitation (CPR) posture. But just as he raised his hands, he felt a sharp kick that sent him stumbling sideways. He whirled around, glaring at Du Heng. "What are you doing?"

Du Heng was equally exasperated. This Cao Binghe clearly looked like a professionally trained doctor; his CPR posture was textbook-perfect. But could it be performed on Lan Changhua? The man was seventy years old. Even if he usually appeared vigorous, physical degeneration was a basic fact. People his age definitely suffered from osteoporosis. They might seem fine when healthy, but their bones would be as brittle as thin bamboo if subjected to external force. With Cao Binghe’s standard technique, Du Heng was certain Professor Lan would suffer at least two broken ribs without even a second compression.

"What are you doing?" Cao Binghe repeated, furious.

Du Heng said softly, "You’ve learned the technique, but you’ve never actually used it, have you?"

Cao Binghe was stunned into silence by the remark. He was about to speak when he saw Du Heng squat down. Forgetting he’d just been kicked, Cao Binghe quickly got up and squatted beside Du Heng, just as he heard Du Heng ask, "Do you have needles?"

"What kind of needles?" Cao Binghe was slow to react.

Du Heng paused, taken aback. If Wu Buwei were the one asking, I’d have slapped him silly! A TCM practitioner, an old Professor’s student and assistant, asking ’what kind of needles?’ I want embroidery needles! Damn it!

"Long needles. Get me three," Du Heng instructed.

"What long needles?" Cao Binghe still looked utterly confused.

Du Heng turned his head slowly, a very bad feeling creeping into his heart. "Long needles for acupuncture. Don’t you have any?"

Cao Binghe shook his head. "We haven’t studied acupuncture, and we don’t use it. If a patient needs it, the Acupuncture Department is right next door."

Just as I thought, Du Heng mused, licking his lips. He didn’t know if this modern TCM teaching model was good or bad for future development. However, based on his own work experience, if a TCM practitioner abandoned acupuncture as a treatment method, or couldn’t integrate acupuncture with their syndrome differentiation and treatment, it was like being crippled in one leg. In his experience, combining decoction medicine with acupuncture could achieve a ninety percent treatment efficacy. With only decoction medicine, the efficacy would be around sixty to seventy percent. But using acupuncture alone would definitely not reach thirty to forty percent efficacy. According to Du Heng’s experience, using acupuncture alone wasn’t entirely ineffective, but its effects were very limited. Except for a few very specific conditions, treating other illnesses with only acupuncture, without the support of decoction medicine, was no different from being a charlatan—charging exorbitant fees for negligible results. Therefore, only the combined application of decoction, needles, and moxibustion could achieve the best therapeutic outcome. Du Heng had found the best validation for this when treating stroke patients at the Health Clinic. Patients who only received decoction medicine treatment, like Bao Mi’s father, took three months to recover enough to walk and live independently. However, inpatients who received Du Heng and Wu Buwei’s triple therapy of decoction medicine, acupuncture, and moxibustion were generally discharged within twenty days to a month, able to care for themselves. But this wasn’t his turf; he could only think about it. He rose and picked up his bag from the ground.

"Doctor Du, you know acupuncture? Will it work? Should I go to the Acupuncture Department next door and borrow a set for you?" Cao Binghe asked anxiously.

Du Heng shook his head and retrieved his own needle utensils from his bag. Your Teacher might not be able to wait that long if you go next door, he thought before saying, "No need, I have them here."

After disinfecting with alcohol cotton, Du Heng, assisted by Cao Binghe, inserted needles at Lan Changhua’s philtrum, Shaoshang (LU-11), and KI-01 (Yongquan) acupoints. Then, he took a small packet of powder medicine from his bag and blew it into Lan Changhua’s nostrils.

Cao Binghe had learned emergency procedures like cardiopulmonary resuscitation (CPR) and the Heimlich maneuver; these were required skills. However, due to his specialty and department, he had only studied them, never applied them. Today was his first attempt, and Du Heng’s kick had completely unnerved him, making him hesitant to try again. Watching Du Heng’s deft movements and now seeing him blow the powder medicine, he asked, somewhat foolishly, "Doctor Du, can acupuncture be used for emergency treatment?"

Du Heng felt no smugness or superiority at Cao Binghe’s question; instead, a sense of sorrow washed over him. Where were they? This was the Capital, Good Friend Hospital—one of the top-tier traditional Chinese medicine institutions in the entire nation. Yet here, a student of a traditional Chinese medicine professor was asking if Chinese medicine could be used for emergency treatment. This was hardly something to be proud of. The crowd of patients gathered at the door suddenly seemed like a facade of false prosperity in Du Heng’s eyes.

Sighing softly, Du Heng nodded. "Of course, traditional Chinese medicine can be used for emergency treatment. Acupuncture can stimulate the body’s responses rapidly, and powder medicine is very convenient, allowing for the quickest medication combination to achieve resuscitation."

As he spoke, Du Heng continuously adjusted the needle utensils using a strong stimulation method. Cao Binghe reached out to feel Lan Changhua’s wrist for a pulse. "Doctor Du, what was that medicine you just administered?"

"Gate-Freeing Powder. It’s for opening the orifices."

The words had barely left Du Heng’s mouth when Lan Changhua, lying on the ground, sneezed violently, startling Cao Binghe, who had just found his pulse. Lan Changhua sneezed again, then groggily opened his eyes, a look of utter confusion in them.

Cao Binghe was overjoyed and rushed to Lan Changhua’s side. "Teacher, Teacher, how do you feel?"

The other man and woman also pushed forward, crowding Du Heng, who was still adjusting the needle utensils, out of the way. "Teacher, how are you? Are you uncomfortable anywhere?" one asked with great concern.

"Teacher, I’m so sorry, this is all my fault," the female doctor lamented.

Seeing their mournful expressions, Du Heng, who had been shoved aside, seethed with anger. He grabbed the female doctor who had pushed him. "You can cry later! Can’t you see you’ve knocked the needle utensils crooked?"

Du Heng showed no leniency just because she was a woman. He pulled her back by the collar, then quickly knelt by Lan Changhua and carefully removed the inserted needle utensils.

Lan Changhua looked at the vaguely familiar face before him. Hearing the continued pained howls and incessant curses of the man on the floor, he gave a wry smile. "Doctor Du, you’re here. I’ve made a fool of myself."

"Professor Lan, please don’t say that. One encounters such patients everywhere. I’ve had several similar experiences myself."

Lan Changhua smiled bitterly again. Just as he was about to speak, the voices of security guards were finally heard from outside the consultation room.

"Professor Lan, where are you feeling uncomfortable now?" Du Heng asked, having packed away his needle utensils.

"My arm hurts a little, and my heart is racing."

Only then did everyone remember that Lan Changhua had just been electrocuted. They quickly rolled up his sleeve, revealing two small black marks on his arm. It was winter, and he was wearing thick clothes. If it had been summer, and the stun gun had made direct contact with his skin, the affected area would likely have been charred.

Simultaneously, everyone’s gaze shifted to the man on the ground, clutching his shoulder and wailing, and then to the stun gun kicked to the side. They all had one burning question: what was the voltage of the stun gun that scoundrel was wielding?

The incoming security guards cleared the crowd and approached the office desk, accompanied by Chu Xuwei, the Director of the Traditional Chinese Medicine Internal Medicine Department, and a police officer.

Seeing Lan Changhua on the floor, Director Chu Xuwei nearly wet himself from shock. "Teacher, are you alright?"

Lan Changhua shook his head slightly, closing his eyes, unwilling to speak. The danger was one thing, but the humiliation was paramount. He’d been practicing medicine for nearly fifty years. To be branded a rogue at the twilight of his career... this was a far greater injury than the shock from that stun gun.

Chu Xuwei was furious. "What happened?"

The tearful female doctor beside him began to recount the events, but Du Heng was thoroughly frustrated.

"Everyone," Du Heng interjected abruptly, "shouldn’t we send Professor Lan for a medical examination first and discuss other matters later?"

The sudden interruption made everyone pause. Then, the doctor who had gone to call security regained his senses, turned, and left again. In less than two minutes, he returned pushing a stretcher cart.

They all helped lift Professor Lan onto the stretcher and began to move him out of the consultation room.

Unexpectedly, the accompanying police officer suddenly called out, "Excuse me, who injured this man’s shoulder?"

The group pushing the cart stopped, all eyes turning to Du Heng.

At this moment, Cao Binghe said to the other two, "You two take the Teacher for his check-up."

Then he turned to the questioning police officer. "Sir, what’s the matter?"