Chapter 33: Premonitory Symptoms of a Stroke

“By the way, Miss Li, I almost forgot—I need to tell you something important about your mother,” Zhang Jing said solemnly.

“What’s wrong with my mom?” Li Ziqi felt a pang of anxiety.

“When I was examining your mother just now, she was in a hurry to call you, so I didn’t have time to explain everything in detail. Now I’m telling you the same thing: through tongue diagnosis, I noticed obvious small purple spots under her tongue, which are usually an early warning sign of a stroke.”

“What does that mean?” Li Ziqi was a bit confused.

“To put it simply, it means there’s a significant risk of cerebral infarction,” Zhang Jing explained using a term everyone is familiar with.

“A cerebral infarction? Isn’t that only for people with high blood pressure? I clearly remember my mother doesn’t have hypertension; her blood pressure is actually a bit low,” Li Ziqi questioned, puzzled.

“A stroke, known in Western medicine as a cerebrovascular accident, can be either ischemic or hemorrhagic. Hemorrhagic strokes, or brain hemorrhages, often occur in people with a history of high blood pressure. Ischemic strokes, also called cerebral infarctions, mostly happen to those with normal or even low blood pressure. This is basic knowledge about strokes—you can look it up online,” Zhang Jing explained.

“Okay, okay. So what should we do?” Li Ziqi’s face showed worry.

“Miss Li, first, don’t worry too much. It just means there’s a higher risk; it doesn’t mean a stroke will happen immediately. It’s good that we caught this in time—it’s entirely preventable.”

“How do we prevent it?”

“I have two main suggestions. First, start taking powdered Panax notoginseng orally for at least six months. The dose doesn’t need to be large—about three grams each time. It’s best taken after meals because it might irritate the stomach somewhat.”

“Okay, that’s easy. What’s the other?”

“Secondly, be particularly careful not to get too emotionally agitated. Traditional Chinese medicine classifies strokes into five common syndromes: one is hyperactive liver yang or liver fire disturbing the head; the second is wind-phlegm-blood stasis obstructing the channels; the third is phlegm-heat with organ excess; the fourth is yin deficiency causing internal wind; and the fifth is qi deficiency with blood stasis.”

“When I took your mother’s pulse earlier, it was distinctly wiry, which is usually associated with the liver meridian. Combined with her tongue condition, if her emotions spiral out of control, it could very likely trigger a stroke,” Zhang Jing continued.

“What? That serious? Dr. Zhang, you can’t just leave my mother like this. She’s the only mother I have, and she’s always been so loving to me. *sob*…” Li Ziqi suddenly burst into tears.

This caught Zhang Jing completely off guard, and he felt at a loss.

No wonder—he had no experience with dating and didn’t know how to comfort a girl.

After a moment’s thought, he softened his tone. “Miss Li, you don’t need to be like this. I only told you the worst-case scenario so you’d take it seriously and not let your guard down.”

“Because once a stroke occurs, there are usually some aftereffects like impaired movement. Some patients experience dizziness, headaches, numbness on one side, facial drooping, difficulty speaking or inability to speak, or even hemiplegia.”

Instead of comforting her, Zhang Jing’s words made Li Ziqi cry even harder.

Through her tears, she whimpered, “*sob*… What if Mom ends up paralyzed on one side? What am I going to do… *sob*… I only know how to eat, I don’t even know how to cook… *sob*…”

Zhang Jing listened, both amused and exasperated.

At first, he thought she was a devoted daughter, but just mentioning the possibility of a stroke made her burst into tears.

Yet her last words shocked him: her biggest worry wasn’t her mother’s illness but who would cook for her!

This carefree girl was truly something else.

In an instant, any lingering fondness he had for her vanished completely.

Gathering himself, Zhang Jing said seriously, “Miss Li, you can go downstairs to get the medicine now. Remember the two things I told you, and be sure to relay them to your mother.”

Li Ziqi wiped her tears. “Okay, I’ll remember. I’ll definitely tell her what you said.”

But then, suddenly shifting her tone and looking at Zhang Jing with tender eyes, she said, “But Dr. Zhang, we haven’t finished talking about my situation yet.”

Zhang Jing was taken aback. “Miss Li, is there something unclear about your condition?”

“No, it’s not about my illness. It’s about us… dating each other,” Li Ziqi said shyly.

“Oh!” Zhang Jing finally realized, then said seriously, “I’ve already told you—we’re not suitable.”

“Tell me what’s wrong with me. If I know, I’ll change, won’t I?” Li Ziqi looked hurt.

“It’s not about you being good or bad. Honestly, I have no intention of dating anyone, not at least until I’m forty,” Zhang Jing said earnestly.

“That’s okay. I can wait. Not just till forty—I’m willing to wait until fifty, sixty,” Li Ziqi blurted out.

Of course, this was just a verbal expression of sincerity; she hadn’t really thought it through or been prepared.

Zhang Jing didn’t care whether she was sincere or not. He no longer had even a shred of affection for her, and even if he did, he wouldn’t make any promises.

Because, as he said before, he had only one obsession right now.

That was to study traditional Chinese medicine thoroughly, cure more patients, and promote classical prescriptions.

“I’m sorry, but we can only ever be doctor and patient. If you have any health questions, you can contact me by phone or text, but beyond that, I cannot accompany you.”

“Alright then… Dr. Zhang, goodbye,” Li Ziqi said reluctantly as she left.

Zhang Jing resumed reading the Treatise on Cold Damage.

Li Ziqi, in a daze, went down to the herbal pharmacy.

“How much for this?” she asked, her voice devoid of warmth.

Gui Cui, sitting at the dispensing and payment window, had been worried that something romantic might spark between Zhang Jing and Li Ziqi since the consultation had taken so long.

But now, seeing Li Ziqi’s forlorn expression, her heart finally settled.

Goodness, such a big entourage for a blind date—quite a spectacle.

Thankfully, Zhang Jing hadn’t been fooled by this little vixen’s feigned innocence.

Seeing Gui Cui stunned and silent, Li Ziqi snapped, “Hey! I’m talking to you! Can you hurry up? I’m in a rush!”

Gui Cui snapped back sarcastically, “Oh! Isn’t this the polite young lady from earlier? So you talk rough now, huh?”

“You…” Li Ziqi was about to lose her temper but quickly realized Gui Cui was Zhang Jing’s colleague. Offending her wouldn’t help.

With that thought, she forced a smile. “Sorry, sister, I’m really in a hurry. Could you please speed it up?”

Gui Cui scoffed inwardly: Sure, so urgent yet chatting so long? What a liar!

But as the saying goes, you can’t slap a smiling face, especially since she was on duty and couldn’t afford to alienate a customer.

Otherwise, the patient could complain to the boss, and that would be trouble.

With that in mind, she put on a smile and said, “Sorry for my attitude. The cost for seven doses is 130.7 yuan. Would you like to pay by WeChat, Alipay, or cash?”

Then she handed over two small cards with QR codes, thinking, It’s 2022—hardly any young people carry cash these days.

Li Ziqi naturally took out her phone from her handbag, but when she looked at it—

She was stunned.