Chapter 2349 Every Hour From Now on Is a Miracle

"How is he?"

It is often a bad feeling to be stared at, and Karachev is feeling this way now.

Karachev, who knew how bad the situation was, wanted to say something, but hesitated, as if he had some reservations.

Malashenko, who was anxious but able to remain calm, saw the problem, and then turned his head to signal Karachev to follow him, and strode out of the tent and came outside.

"Tell me, how bad is the situation? I want you to tell the truth, I am mentally prepared."

Malashenko went straight to the point without any nonsense. Karachev, who expected that this might be the case, did not think much, and then he vomited out everything he had to say.

"It's more serious than ever before. This time, the situation is very serious."

"During the time you were away, Comrade Political Commissar couldn't eat. He ate a bowl of broth and vomited, then continued to eat and vomited. He forced himself to do this for almost half an hour, but he didn't eat anything."

"The attendant wanted to come over to help, but as soon as he got to him, Comrade Political Commissar couldn't hold on and fell down. He was breathing less and breathing more. When I arrived, the scene was like he was about to be suffocated to death. It may sound exaggerated, but I swear to God that was the situation at the time."

Malachenko didn't care what Karachev swore to, but only cared about what would happen next. He spoke quietly and was still as calm as before.

"Go on."

""

"The conditions of our division's field hospital are actually good enough, but it still lacks professional equipment to treat this disease, or to maintain life. Treating cancer is not a disease within the medical capabilities of the field hospital."

"Without professional equipment, I can only make some rough judgments. It is certain that cancer cells have spread to the lungs. Now it can even be said that the entire lungs are on the verge of complete disability. This is the fundamental reason why Comrade Political Commissar has difficulty breathing and can no longer do strenuous exercise that consumes a lot of oxygen. He is not even allowed to walk faster."

"His lungs can no longer convert enough oxygen to support these exercises. Any aerobic exercise requires oxygen to maintain. If you understand this, you will know why Comrade Political Commissar is like this now."

Kalachev was worried that Malashenko would not understand, so he tried his best to convert professional terms into down-to-earth ordinary words to describe it. But Karachev's worries were actually unnecessary. Malashenko, who came from a distant future, had a much better grasp of various types of information than the natives of the same era. It was not difficult for him to understand the medical descriptions that were difficult for ordinary people in this era to understand.

"That is to say, the lung function is on the verge of loss. When it is completely lost, the person will be suffocated to death. Am I right?"

Kalachev nodded with a sad and helpless expression, but soon continued.

"Not only that, in fact, Comrade Political Commissar has already suffered from multiple organ failure, and cancer cells have already spread to multiple organs and parts of his body. He has been facing this disease comparable to the god of death for too long, so long that the cancer cells have spread to this point but still cannot take his life. For other people, the clinical cases I know of, jumping off a building to commit suicide, cutting their wrists to commit suicide, swallowing a gun to commit suicide, and dying happily is the choice of many people, not a few."

It is not surprising that a terminal illness that medicine in the distant 21st century has no ability to overcome can torture people to this extent. Malashenko certainly believes that Karachev is telling the truth, just like he firmly believes that Comrade Political Commissar has set a goal for himself that must be completed.

"He won't do that. I know him. Cancer may defeat many people, but it will never defeat him. I believe he will never fall before the appointed time, never!"

While expressing his firm belief in the strong will of the political commissar, Malashenko still had something to ask Karachev.

"Based on your experience and judgment, tell me a time, the time you think."

Kalachev certainly understood what Malashenko meant, but he could not give even a relatively vague answer as Malashenko asked.

"Every hour from now on is a miracle. No one can last so long with only some drugs far away from the hospital, and miracles cannot be measured and defined with fixed concepts. This is my answer."

""

Malashenko had already guessed that the final answer might be like this, and he did not mean to blame Karachev.

After all, let alone Karachev, even Malashenko, who traveled through time and space decades later, had never heard of a patient with advanced pancreatic cancer in the era of information explosion, who did not even need to go to the hospital and could command troops to run around on the front line all day long with some painkillers.

Medicine is used to cure diseases and save lives, not to measure and understand miracles.

No longer blaming or over-demanding Karachev to do anything, after learning that Karachev had done everything he could and had left some barely-maintaining drugs, Malashenko solemnly patted Karachev on the shoulder, indicating that he could leave first and go to do what he should do, and if there were any more problems, he would send someone to find him.

Watching Karachev's back with the medicine box gradually going away, Malashenko, with mixed feelings in his heart, lifted the tent curtain and walked inside, only to see Lavrinenko sitting by the bed, holding a cup of water, talking to the political commissar.

"Go and do your own thing. There are still many things to do after the battle. I'll ask you to do my part. I'll take over when I feel ready after a rest. I'll rely on you first."

Comrade Political Commissar was still thinking about the things he should do under normal circumstances. Lavrinenko, holding a water cup, frowned even more when he heard this.

"There are so many people and comrades in the division headquarters. There will always be someone to do those things, but if you are gone, what will the comrades do? Taking care of your health and having a good rest is the first priority. Don't think about those troublesome things. I promise to handle them all. Don't worry."

Comrade Political Commissar, who was in much better condition than before, leaned on a corner of the camp bed. Hearing Lavrinenko's words, he just smiled faintly.

"The revolutionary cause will continue to move forward without anyone. Comrades will take over the banner in my hand and continue to move forward, just as I have done countless times. Our lives will leave, but this great cause will not. The only thing I can do is to raise this banner higher and go further as much as possible before I fall."

""

Lavrinenko didn't know what to say next. He just held the water cup in his hand and kept his face still. He stayed beside the political commissar and was unwilling to leave until Malashenko, who was no longer as impetuous as before, stepped forward quietly.

"Leave it to me here. I'll deal with the battle summary and other things. I'll talk to you later."