I was going to write about our visit to Nagasaki, but suddenly I had a high fever due to a cold and went to the hospital to see a doctor. After hanging penicillin and glucose for two days, the body temperature slowly dropped. The fever subsided. There is no repetition. I'll be home in a few days. The room was quite quiet. I was in the hospital for the first time in 30 years, and I was a little unaccustomed to it, and I often had cranky thoughts after going to bed at night. The thing that comes to mind the most is about fever. The first thing that came to my mind was my brother Li Yaolin. In November 1945, I returned to Shanghai from Chongqing and lived on the third floor of No. 59 Xiafeifang (Huaihaifang). Li Yaolin was sick and slept in bed, because he had no money and could not be admitted to the hospital, and was treated by a friend who knew how to heal. At night I built a canvas bed and slept next to him. Every morning he wakes up to take his temperature in bed, and in the morning the temperature is not high, and I can hear him happily muttering to himself: "It's better, it's better." "He is an English teacher and loves to speak English. In the afternoon, his body temperature gradually increased. Every day is like this, as soon as the body temperature is high, his mood goes bad. Within a few days, with the help of a friend, he was admitted to the hospital. But he didn't live for two weeks in the hospital. Secondly, I think of my deceased wife, Xiao Shan. At the beginning of June 1972, when I returned home from the "May 7 Cadre School" in Fengxian County, I found Xiao Shan sick in bed. I don't know what disease she suffers from, it's not that she can't find it, but she won't check it. At that time, the "Gang of Four" was rampant, and the "doctors" who saw the outpatient clinic did not necessarily understand medicine, and an ordinary person (not to mention the "stinky woman of the cow ghost") had a fever of more than 39 degrees, and went to the hospital to hang the emergency department, or prescribed some medicine and sent away, or stayed in the "observation room" to hang the saline injection and go home for half a day. Xiao Shan suffered from bowel cancer, and in March of that year, she tried to find someone to open the back door and took a proctoscope in a hospital, but her illness was in the colon and could not be illuminated. At that time, it was also very difficult to take X-rays, not only did you have to ask for help, but you also had to take a lot of detours. The source of her illness was not identified until mid-July, and in late July she was admitted to the hospital, where the cancer had spread. She only survived three weeks in the ward. While anxiously waiting for the source of the disease to be identified, I checked Xiao Shan's temperature four times a day (my daughter and son-in-law did this work before I went home). Early in the morning, the temperature was lower, and then gradually increased, rising to about 39 degrees, and the whole family became nervous and prepared to go to the hospital to register for the emergency number. I knew that going to the hospital to see an outpatient clinic would not solve the problem, (just more than 10 days before the source of the disease was found, the outpatient doctor concluded that she had intestinal tuberculosis!) But how can I say that I can't go to the hospital if I have a high fever? That's why I don't like to take my temperature. I have never been seriously ill for a long time, I have never been hospitalized, and I always think that I am in good health and can deal with any illness. I obviously felt uncomfortable and had a heat, but I didn't admit it, I didn't go to the doctor, I didn't measure the temperature, and I thought I could get through it by standing up my chest. This time too. When I woke up early in the morning, I felt feverish, and I felt unwell, but I refused to measure my temperature. At four o'clock in the afternoon, I couldn't support it, so I went downstairs to find medicine to eat, my sister pulled me to take my temperature: 38 degrees 8, and my daughter and son-in-law took me to the hospital to see a doctor, and then took my temperature: 39 degrees 3, people are already very uncomfortable. It took two days for the fever to subside. Now everything is normal. But for ten days, I felt like I had a serious illness, both physically and mentally. Summing up the experience of this fever reduction from the hospital bed, I can't help but thank my sister and daughter. They suspected me of being sick and dragged me to the doctor, and seemed to be deliberately trying to get along with me, and I blamed them a little bit at first, but later I realized that if they hadn't forced me to take my temperature and dragged me to the hospital, I would probably have persevered until a cold turned into pneumonia, fell ill, and died in a hurry. In the eyes of people who hate me, this is probably a good thing. But to me, that's stupid. Not admitting that you have a fever and not trying to get rid of it is not only a foolish thing, but also a very dangerous thing. I will never do such a thing again, and I advise my friends not to do it.