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Who is Responsible for Life Under Healthcare?
墨書 Inktalez
That rainy night phone call changed my life.
" Reporter Lin, please help me!" The girl's voice on the other end was choked with tears. "My mom... she’s dead."
I instinctively tightened my grip on the phone. As a medical reporter, I often received similar desperate calls. I set down my coffee cup and opened my notebook. Ten years of experience in medical reporting taught me that the truth often hides in the most inconspicuous places.
After dropping out of medical school and becoming a reporter, my half-baked medical knowledge had helped me uncover many healthcare scandals. Behind every plea for help could be a family tragedy. My mother’s death had made me realize that nothing in the medical field is absolutely safe.
But this time, the girl's next words jolted me awake: "Less than 48 hours after using the new drug, she... they wouldn’t even let us see her body."
It was a deep night in August, with heavy rain pouring outside. I was rushing to finish an article about healthcare reform, the glow of my computer screen illuminating the darkness. Three years ago, my mother had also passed away on a night like this. The unclear cause of her illness flashed through my mind.
"Where are you? I'm coming over now." I grabbed my coat and rushed out.
Half an hour later, I met Liu Ting at a convenience store next to the hospital. She looked barely in her twenties, bare-faced, with red eyes from crying. Through the glass window, Renji Hospital shone brightly amidst the downpour.
"My mom had late-stage rectal cancer," Liu Ting said, her fingers twisting tightly around a tissue. "Last week, Director Wang said there was a new drug that worked wonders, so... we thought we’d give it a shot..." She couldn’t continue.
"What’s the new drug?" I pulled out my notebook.
"Yikang, they said it’s an imported drug. After the first injection, my mom suddenly had difficulty breathing. They rushed her to emergency care and then... Director Wang said it was cancer complications and told us to quickly arrange for cremation."
I frowned. "No autopsy?"
"They said it wasn't necessary and issued the death certificate directly." Liu Ting's voice suddenly became agitated. "But I looked into this medication, and I can't find any information about it!"
My intuition told me something was off. In my ten years as a journalist, I had seen too many similar medical disputes, but the details of this case were suspicious at every turn.
"Can you get your mother's medical records?"
Liu Ting shook her head. "The hospital said I have to go through the proper channels; it will take at least a week."
"Give me two days." I handed her a business card and hesitated before adding, "Don't tell anyone you contacted me."
Early the next morning, I entered Renji Hospital under the pretense of writing a report on medical reform. The Oncology department was on the eighth floor of the inpatient building, and the smell of disinfectant made me feel nauseous. That scent always reminded me of my mother's final days.
A few family members were gathered in front of the nurses' station, and I pretended to look at my phone while straining to listen.
"...How is that new drug?"
"I heard it works really well..."
"But it's not cheap; just one injection..."
Suddenly, a nurse pushed a cart full of medications past me, and I caught a glimpse of the items on it. I didn't see the name "Yikang."
"Excuse me, is Director Wang available?" I stopped a nurse.
"Director Wang is off today," she replied without looking up.
I noticed her name tag—Zhang Rong, Head Nurse. I made a mental note of it.
Taking advantage of the absence of staff at the nurse's station, I quickly scanned the list of hospitalized patients on the wall. Two patients had been marked as "discharged" within three days, but through Liu Ting, I knew that during this time, only her mother had passed away in Oncology.
Just as I was about to take a photo, a deep male voice suddenly came from behind me: "Excuse me, reporter, what are you looking for?"
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