Song Xiang grabbed the doctor's white coat with stubborn eyes and no intention of letting go.
The doctor had no choice but to explain: "We are not experts in this area. Mr. Song, you have to ask a specialist. In early childhood, the cure may be better."
Song Xiang seemed to have been given a shot of cardiotonic, her hand slipped and she let go of the doctor's gown.
Doctors and nurses were coming and going around. In the ward, Xu Shuyan was still hysterical and kept repeating the two sentences just now.
Song Xiang leaned on the cold tiles, his heart beating loudly.
An idea suddenly came to her, but she quickly rejected it.
After finally waiting for the noise inside to subside, she began to gasp for air, as if it was not Xu Shuyan but her who was strangled by the pain.
The doctor came out sweating profusely and asked her to go to the office to talk.
"Mr. Song, you shouldn't just bring people here. It won't do any good to irritate the patients like this."
Song Xiang swallowed her saliva, and instead of following the doctor's words, asked: "Doctor, what my mother said when she was ill now, was it something she had experienced, or was it something she imagined?"
The doctor paused, thought for a moment, and said solemnly: "At this stage, the basis for judging the truth and truth is usually the objective statements of the family members, but you don't know anything about what your mother said, so it is difficult for us to make an accurate judgment."
Song Xiang was silent for a moment, then said: "That is to say, it may be a fantasy, right?"
The doctor nodded, "Yes."
The frozen blood was instantly melted and circulated throughout the body, allowing the organs that were about to fail to resume their work.
Song Xiang lowered his head and breathed a heavy sigh of relief.
She didn't listen to a word of what the doctor said next. The only thing that kept circulating in her mind was "cerebellar palsy."
When I walked to the door of Xu Shuyan's ward, the nurse was cleaning up inside, and the ground was in a mess.
Song Xiang walked in and glanced at the hair on the pure white floor tiles.
She squatted down subconsciously and picked one up.
On the hospital bed, Xu Shuyan's eyes were closed tightly. Even though she had been injected with a sedative, her face looked tense. Song Xiang stretched out her hand to help her mother arrange her hair, and her eyes suddenly fell on Xu Shuyan's face.
Suddenly, she looked up at the nurse next to her.
"Do you think our mother and daughter look alike?"
The nurse was stunned for a moment, walked forward, looked at Xu Shuyan, and then at Song Xiang.
"Your mother has a square face, and you have an oval face, so they don't look alike. But don't they all say that daughters look like their fathers? You should be like your father, right?"
Song Xiang twitched the corners of her lips, trying to force out a polite smile, but found that her face was stiff and she couldn't fake it at all.
Her eyes fell on Xu Shuyan's face and she looked at it carefully.
The roots of my mother's hair have turned gray. She was too busy in the past few years to notice these details.
Raising her hand, the original intention was to touch her hair, but in the end, her mind fell on Xu Shuyan's appearance.
The nurse is right, they really don't look like mother and daughter.
He stood up suddenly, as if there was some savage beast in the room, turned around and walked out, almost bumping into the nurse when he went out.
I walked quickly outside and finally stopped at the corner.
After thinking about it, I called Xiang Shuyi.
Xiang Shuyi answered almost instantly, "Hey, Mr. Song, please take the initiative to call me?"
Song Xiang didn't beat around the bush and asked straightforwardly: "Can cerebellar atrophy be cured?"
After saying that, she added, "A nine-month-old child."