Dark Light Chaser.

Chapter 153 Hospice Care
The next day, Ansien took the check to the bank to cash it.

Looking at the balance in her phone's text messages, she finally felt relieved.

For the past few months, Ansien has been like a runner-up in stone shackles, racing against wolves.

The pressure at work and the relentless pursuit of medical expenses were suffocating her.

This check for 150,000 was a key to her, a key that could unlock her shackles and kill the wolf with her shackles.

Ansien looked up at the sky, feeling more relaxed than ever before.

It felt like being locked in a closet for three hours, and then, the moment the closet was opened, you found yourself in a vast, boundless grassland.

But... for some reason, despite feeling relaxed and cheerful, she just couldn't feel happy.

Ansien shook her head, forcing herself to cheer up, and boarded the bus to the hospital.

Chihwa General Hospital.

Anshen's mother lives here.

However, she did not live in the intensive care unit or the inpatient department, but in a standalone building on the outskirts of the hospital.

Almost every few days, several doctors would push out a cart covered with a white sheet.

Hospice and Palliative Care Department.

This is a special ward that the hospital has set up specifically for terminally ill patients in the weeks or even months before they are about to die.

The majority of patients here are in the late stages of malignant tumors, with a few suffering from other terminal illnesses.

Those who stay here are basically given a death sentence by medicine; there is no cure, and they can only watch helplessly as death approaches.

The main difference between this place and the inpatient department is that there will be professional caregivers to take good care of patients in order to alleviate their pain, and psychological counseling will be used to relieve patients' fear, anxiety and other emotions.

There are also professional nutritionists who can satisfy patients' appetites to a certain extent.

If the patient still has a sense of taste.

The hospice is well-equipped and well-staffed, but it is rarely full.

Because the costs here are too high, the monthly hospitalization fees are around 20,000 to 30,000 yuan.

When it comes to patients with late-stage cancer, if their families are willing to treat them, they will go to great lengths, even if it means going bankrupt, in hopes of achieving a miraculous miracle.

Most people who are willing to accept death and want to spend the last part of their lives will choose to go home.

Only those who are too busy or too preoccupied to take care of their families come here.

After paying the monthly fees at the front desk, Ansien took the elevator to the third floor.

In everyone's imagination, such buildings filled with terminally ill patients must be lifeless, with the air almost frozen.

However, the environment here is actually more lively than that of a regular inpatient ward.

As I passed some open rooms, laughter could be heard coming from inside, and in some of the half-open doors, I could vaguely make out words like "three generations of one," "bomb," and "bump."

The corridor was filled with a cheerful atmosphere, making it impossible to tell that this was a gathering place for a group of dying people.

Ansien walked to the end of the corridor, stood at the door of the ward, and took out a mirror to adjust her expression.

Once the person in the mirror had a youthful smile on their face, she took a deep breath, gently pushed open the door, and went inside.

The moment the door closed, all noise was shut out.

The caregiver, who was cleaning the room, saw An Si'en and called out to her, "Aunt An, your Si'en is here."

Ansien smiled and thanked the caregiver.

She sat down beside the hospital bed and called out, "Mom."

Lying on the bed was a thin woman with dry skin. She was taking a nap with her eyes closed, and there was a trace of tears in the corner of her eyes, as if she had not yet woken up.

Hearing An Sien's call, she opened her eyes with difficulty: "Why are you here again, child? You've only just started working and you're already taking leave every few days. That's not good."

An Si'en laughed and said, "It's okay. This isn't a normal nine-to-five job. When I'm not filming, I can go wherever I want. Everyone does it this way."

Of course, An Sien couldn't tell her mother about her real job, so she lied and said that she had been recommended by her mentor to work as a supporting actress in a film and television company.

Because of the large number of scenes, the salary was also quite considerable.

Ansien used various reasons to persuade her mother to be hospitalized.

For example, there's no one to take care of her normally, and if something happens, there won't be enough time to get to the hospital. No matter how much they try to persuade her, the mother refuses to come to a hospital room that costs tens of thousands of yuan a month.

He even refused to cooperate with treatment at one point.

It wasn't until Ansien's face darkened and she explained that her career was on the rise and that the possibility of a family member passing away would have a very negative impact that her mother finally agreed to come here to spend the last part of her life.

An's mother placed her thin, withered hand on the back of An Si'en's hand and said very slowly, "When you have time, take a good rest and don't always come to my place."

Aunt An spoke very softly, as softly as a dandelion seed scattered by the wind.

She wanted to speak loudly and reassure her daughter, but her physical weakness prevented her from raising her voice, making her speech weak and feeble.

"I slept from last night until noon, so don't worry about me."

Ansien smiled as she wiped away the tears her mother had shed due to her illness.

An's mother smiled wearily and scolded, "Who's worried about you, girl? I just don't want you to keep disturbing my sleep."

"Who used to complain that I never went home for summer vacation?"

Ansien didn't hold back in taking the blame for her mother's shortcomings.

An's mother said seriously, "How can I not worry about a teenage girl like you going out to work?"

"She's a girl now, isn't she?"

Ansien gently took her mother's hand, placed it on her head, and acted coquettishly towards her mother.

An's mother gently stroked An Si'en's head: "Alright, you're a grown-up now, don't act like a child."

Ansien chuckled and offered no explanation.

The mother and daughter chatted for a while, and An's mother's spirits gradually improved. However, as it was almost time for dinner, An's mother started to urge everyone to leave.

"I'm perfectly fine, aren't I? If you have nothing to do, go back home and stop lingering here."

"It's been a long time since we ate together, how about..."

An Si'en originally wanted to stay for a meal, but the other party insisted on sending her away: "Why not? The food here is served at fixed times and in fixed quantities. There's no room for you. Go home now."

An's mother scolded An Si'en: "Also, even if the company doesn't assign you any work, can't you go and help out? Don't you know how to leave a good impression?"

"You've only been here a short time. If you don't build a good relationship with the crew now, what will you do after this show is over and you stop earning money?"

"Okay, I know. I'll try to stop bothering you so much in the future, okay?"

An Si'en slung her bag over her shoulder and muttered, "Next time I come, I'll tell the nutritionist in advance and ask him to prepare one for me too."

After that, she turned and left.

As if they had planned it, not long after Ansien left the ward, the caregiver pushed a small cart into the ward.

Lunch was laid out on the cart: a bowl of well-cooked lean meat porridge, a plate of fish with bones removed, a cup of soy milk, and a thinly sliced ​​apple.

"Aunt An, you and your daughter have a really good relationship. She's probably the one who visits your family the most."

The caregiver carefully helped An's mother sit up, then pressed the switch by the bedside to slowly raise the headrest.

"I wouldn't have wanted her to come here."

After Ansi'en left, Ansi's mother returned to her listless and weak state.

She picked up the spoon to scoop a spoonful of porridge, but her right hand trembled and the spoon slipped from her fingers and fell onto the folding table.

She tried again, but the result was the same.

The caregiver stood aside, looking at the somewhat stubborn woman: "Let me feed you."

This time, she didn't refuse, but asked a question as the caregiver picked up the bowl: "How much longer can I live?"

"...According to the full-body examination upon admission, the cancer cells have spread from the lungs to the brain, which is the main reason why your body is becoming increasingly numb. As for your remaining lifespan... you have less than a month left."

Stage IV cancer, with lung cancer cells metastasizing to the brain, is the most common mode of metastasis.

Anma remained calm in the face of the caregiver's response.

Concealing a patient's condition from them is intended to prevent them from worrying, but this applies to curable diseases.

Once you're in the hospice ward, surrounded by people who are about to die, even the most carefree person will realize that their days are numbered.

What the doctors and nurses here do is alleviate the patients' fear and anxiety.

People who come here are told approximately how much life they have left. The main responsibility of the hospice is to counsel these patients, so that they do not have psychological pressure and can face death bravely.

Therefore, they will not hide the patient's remaining lifespan, but will try their best to let the patient leave happily on the final journey of life.

"You didn't tell Si'en, did you?" Aunt An asked.

"No."

The caregiver shook his head.

Generally, doctors help family members conceal the patient's condition, but in hospice care, the opposite may happen.

Some patients do not want their families to worry too much about them, so they deliberately hide their illness.

Everything here is based on the patient's wishes. If a patient wants to conceal their physical condition, they will try their best to do so.

Unless the family members ask, they will notify the family to come and see the patient one last time when the estimated life expectancy is about a week.

"Then... could you please inform Si'en the day before I die?"

"We can't do that. A week is the limit of what we can predict. In this last week, the condition could deteriorate rapidly at any time, and Miss An may not be able to come and see you one last time."

The nurse refused Anma's request.

Some people may survive for another six months after being sentenced to death, but there are also cases where a doctor says a person has three months to live, only for their condition to suddenly deteriorate and they die that same day.

While feeding An's mother, the caregiver comforted her, saying, "There are many things that can only be said when you are about to part ways. If you have more time, you can think carefully about what else you want to say."

"I'll help you visit other wards from now on. It's not good for your health to stay cooped up in your room all the time. Why don't you play cards and chat with other patients?"

"Thank you, but no need. I'm not afraid of death."

An's mother looked dejected: "It's only been less than a month... I just can't let go of Si'en..."

The caregiver comforted her, saying, "Don't worry, Miss An has grown up and has a high-paying job. She will definitely have a happy life in the future."

Aunt An shook her head and looked out the window, her expression somewhat desolate: "That's why I can't let her go."

“Sien has always been good at hiding her emotions, but... I am her mother, how could I not see her state... She is probably forcing herself again..."

“Only through setbacks can one grow, and Miss An is clearly the kind of person who becomes stronger with each setback. You can’t always look at her with the same eyes as before; you have to have faith in your daughter.”

The caregiver picked up a piece of fish and brought it to Anma's mouth.

She looked at the lunch on the folding table in front of her and said nothing more.

…………

After leaving the hospice ward, Ansien's smile gradually faded.

When he left the hospital, he had regained his expressionless demeanor.

Looking at her own shadow in the window, An Si'en couldn't understand why she just couldn't be happy.
Even though her mother's medical expenses were covered, and she didn't need to solicit clients anymore and would soon be able to leave that hellhole, why couldn't she be happy?
Ansien couldn't figure it out for a moment.

She walked to the shopping street, not to buy anything, but simply to wander aimlessly.

Ansien walked and stopped along the way until the milk tea in the hands of two seventeen or eighteen-year-old girls caught her attention.

I don't think I've had milk tea since graduation...

Ansien was lost in memories.

After learning that her mother had lung cancer, she applied to her supervisor for early graduation and began working.

She knew very well that she couldn't earn enough to cover her medical expenses in a short time by seeking employment at a regular company, so she continued to work part-time, and her first job was selling milk tea.

She sold milk tea during the day and collected packages at night, working day and night to barely scrape together enough money for one course of treatment.

As the saying goes, "Those adorned in fine silks are not the ones who raise silkworms." Despite selling milk tea for so long, An Si'en herself has never drunk a single cup in order to save money.

Driven by a strange impulse, An Si'en walked in the direction the two girls had come from.

Not long after, she found a bubble tea shop and bought a cup of pearl milk tea, something she hadn't done in a long time.

An Sien held the milk tea in her arms, a strange emotion surging within her.

She sat down in a deserted park and sipped her milk tea, but as she drank, tears began to stream down her face.

The moment Ansien took her first sip of milk tea, she understood the real reason for her sadness and distress.

She was crying because of what had happened to her.

Ansien was initially hesitant about whether to sell her body for money, but the tattooed man's actions made her give up and completely succumb to temptation.

The week-long "training" before she started taking clients completely killed Ansien, turning her into a numb puppet.

For the past two weeks, she has suppressed her own personality, mechanically speaking to customers as instructed by the trainer, and repeating those provocative actions.

Those who have seen the light find it hard to endure the darkness.

While in hell, surrounded by tragedies, Ansien didn't have any particular thoughts. But when she jumped out of hell and looked back on the past, the pain in her heart was awakened.

Ansien choked back tears as she chewed on the tapioca pearls in her milk tea.

(End of this chapter)