If this were an operating room, by now, the Melon Chart from 1st to 100th place would be playing on loop... But this was a lecture hall. A place filled with people chattering away while someone was undergoing surgery... It was like the 19th century all over again.
"What are you doing?"
"He's having abdominal surgery?"
"Huh? Can he survive?"
"Who knows."
These lunatics... Did they think they were at a movie theater? No, wait—even in a movie theater, you shouldn't talk like this. I just got chills... Without realizing it, I've become a 19th-century person myself.
*Clink.*
Anyway, I washed my hands, put on gloves, and washed them again. Meanwhile, Alfred, who had run here in a hurry without even taking a carriage, stepped in to handle the anesthesia. Well, "anesthesia" is a bit of an overstatement—it was more like turning a gas valve, so it wasn't that difficult. The only thing he really had to do was make sure the patient was still breathing...
"Don't worry!"
Seeing Alfred laugh with his yellow teeth on display made me feel a bit reassured. Despite his appearance, he was good at managing breathing.
*'His hands are definitely clumsy... It might be better if he just passed out from the anesthesia.'*
It wasn't that he was bad at studying or lacked effort. Most importantly, he listened to me very well, didn't he? He was the best anesthesiologist to have around.
*Squelch, squelch.*
Anyway, I poured the water Colin had boiled and cooled onto the patient's wound. The patient twitched a bit, probably because the anesthesia wasn't fully effective yet, but it didn't last long. Once the gas starts flowing, there's no helping it.
"Hmm."
"Ugh."
I had my doubts about whether the Thames River water would become clean just by boiling it... But at least the wound looked clearer now that I was pouring what appeared to be clean water over it.
"Scalpel, please."
"Ah, are we amputating?"
"Huh?"
The intestines looked fine, but to be sure, I needed to make a deeper incision to examine the inside more closely. When I asked for the scalpel, Liston handed me a Liston knife. Well, he tried to hand it to me, but I didn't take it... That's the right way to describe it.
"Aren't we amputating?"
"Where... where exactly?"
"Here."
"No..."
Liston pointed to the wounded area. If we cut here... the person would be split in half, wouldn't they? Amid all sorts of thoughts running through my mind, I couldn't speak. Fortunately, Liston wasn't completely thoughtless, so after watching me in silence, he quietly put the knife down.
"That would... kill him, right?"
"Of course. He'd die."
"So, by 'scalpel,' you mean that flimsy knife of yours, huh?"
"Why are you looking at my lower body while saying that?"
"Isn't the difference similar?"
"Ha."
If you were just a bit smaller, you'd be dead.
I trembled with intense humiliation but eventually took hold of a proper scalpel. Thankfully, Colin quickly put on gloves and joined in, so I had an assistant. Despite his personality, this guy had pretty good hands. Sharp eyes, too.
"First..."
"Let's do it boldly."
"No... we're cutting into a human body. Boldness is a pre-anesthesia mindset."
"Is that so?"
Actually, Liston probably had similar talents... But maybe he's been swinging that Liston knife around too much? It seems like he can never go back to how he was before.
*Sssk.*
Despite all the distractions, I opened the abdomen a bit more. Of course, I couldn't open it too wide. What if it got infected? Could I feed him rotten bread? With his stomach in this state? What about an injection...? Even though I knew about penicillin, the miracle drug, I didn't have the courage to collect mold scraps and inject them into his bloodstream.
"Whoa, you cut his stomach?"
"Huh... Dr. Pyeong's experimental spirit is truly remarkable."
"That's why I'm saying it. It's no wonder an Asian has gained this much fame."
"The term 'honorary white man' didn't come out of nowhere."
Look at them talking without even wearing masks. Putting aside the fact that their words themselves were unpleasant... I was too worried about the bacteria coming out of their mouths, which they obviously hadn't cleaned properly.
"Tsk..."
Liston clicked his tongue at my cautious incision. He probably didn't even understand why I was making the incision, yet he reacted like this...
"Is this how you're going to see inside?"
Oh.
I underestimated him. Clearly... London's top doctor is different for a reason.
"Let's see. You there! Light!"
"Uh... me?"
"Yes, you."
"Uh..."
"If you don't want to die, come here and hold the light."
"Ah, okay."
Everyone was busy working. Liston was observing and assisting, Joseph was holding open the incision, Colin was focusing more on assisting... and Alfred was handling anesthesia. So I called out to anyone who was free, and a guy with a mouth as wide as a bowl stepped forward. Now that I think about it, he's the one who always talks about yellow monkeys or something... But it was fine. In front of Liston, everyone becomes a yes-man.
"Hmm."
"Ugh."
The abdominal cavity I saw through the larger incision... was hard to describe as good. Honestly, I expected this. If you stab someone with something sharp, of course, the intestines would get damaged, right? But the reason it wasn't obvious was... partly because we hadn't moved things around inside, but mostly thanks to the mesentery, the guardian of our abdominal cavity.
"This can happen too. It's gotten complicated."
The mesentery. Simply put, it's a membrane made mostly of fat that fills the space between the intestines and the abdominal cavity... It protects the organs and also covers small wounds to prevent anything from spilling inside. This time was no exception, as it was covering the wound, which was why I hadn't noticed the injury to the intestines earlier. But after extending the incision a bit more... I saw that the intestine was slightly cut. Inside? Of course, it was filled with feces.
'What do I do?'
The wound itself wasn't very long. It was clearly done by an amateur. If a professional had done it, they would have aimed for the blood vessels behind the intestines, not the intestines themselves. And the second stab? That one just grazed the skin, didn't it?
'Creating an intestinal fistula would be...'
Even so, the patient had a very high chance of dying. If this were South Korea... Honestly, by now, we'd be chatting comfortably while performing the surgery. I wouldn't even be thinking about the patient dying. But...
'No. It's impossible to manage here. I have to suture it and put it back in... Think of it like an appendix. This is...'
It was dangerous now. I had to do my best.
"Suture."
"Okay."
"Can you cut it for me?"
"Are you going to suture it?"
"Yes. We have to try what we can."
"Hmm... Alright. But..."
"But what?"
"The patient's skin is colder than before. Is that okay?"
"Ah."
That bastard Alfred. I told him to watch the patient, but was he only checking if he was breathing? Even with gloved hands, I could tell how cold the patient had become.
'Is he gone?'
But then Alfred shook his head.
"No, he's fine. He's breathing. It's weak, though."
I ignored the "he's fine" part. It seemed true that he was still breathing. At least his chest was rising and falling slightly.
'In a normal situation, we'd need a blood transfusion...'
A blood transfusion. It already had a negative image, but after Blundell mixed up a few transfusions and killed some people, even the hospital director banned it, not just the Vatican. Even if Liston agreed, we could try it... but this guy is also very negative about transfusions right now.
'Then I'll just have to finish this quickly.'
Whether I administer fluids or do something else, I have to do it fast. It's better to keep going than to stop and do something else. So I decided to proceed.
"Let's suture first."
"Alright. Don't... blame yourself too much. He was going to die anyway."
I let his curse-like words of comfort go in one ear and out the other as I stitched carefully. The only comfort was Colin. He was subtly assisting with one hand... He didn't know exactly what I was going to do, but he seemed to have a general idea. That meant he understood the surgery to some extent, and if I could train him properly, things would go much smoother in the future.
'Hmm.'
Of course, that was a hopeful future. This place was still just average for the 19th century. First, the suture...
'Suturing itself is much easier.'
Do you know how slippery nylon sutures are? I clearly pulled and tied the knot, but it came undone. I got scolded so much for that during my first year... But this silk suture, or whatever it is, is so rough that even if I do it roughly, the friction keeps it from coming undone. The problem is that the rough surface can trap bacteria, and they can grow there...
'Let's trust this person.'
He's someone who got stabbed and bled so much but didn't die. He's on a completely different level from the fragile humans of the 21st century. The embodiment of resilience!
'Lord.'
Now I understand why they believed in God so fervently. To believe in resilience... Prayers came naturally.
*Sssk.*
Despite these random thoughts, I continued suturing without stopping. The small intestine was thin, and since it had been cut by a knife, there was a high risk of it tearing, but my sutures were steady. The needle was much cruder than the ones I used before, but so what? They say a craftsman doesn't blame his tools. Although I've been blaming them a lot... Anyway, I was a genius.
'I can feel the focus.'
The small intestine, which had been split apart, was coming back together, and the abdomen, which had been cut open, was being sutured layer by layer—peritoneum, muscle, fat, and then skin... To those gathered here, it must have seemed like a miracle. Even the guy with his lips sticking out was gaping in awe. He was probably just amazed because he was ignorant, but the others, who had at least been exposed to modern medicine through me, must have had complicated thoughts. Among them, Liston, who had been giving me those suspicious looks lately, cut the suture thread with a flick after I finished tying the knot.
That was it.
"Alright. For now... the wound is..."
"Now, shall we question the suspect?"
"Ah, fuck, you scared me."
I turned to see a policeman entering. Great timing, really. Just barging into a surgery room...
"Fuck? What does that mean?"
"It's a Korean word. It's used for emphasis. Like, 'I'm really shocked,' or something like that."
Of course, being weak to authority, I muttered with the friendliest face I could muster. That didn't mean I was going to wake the patient up right now.
"And for now, it's not possible. The anesthesia gas is still in effect... You'll have to wait."
"But we might lose the suspect..."
"Do you have no leads at all?"
Thinking of the patient, I couldn't let that happen. So I asked back, and the policeman made a 'I don't know' face and answered.
"No witnesses... no weapon. It's a complete mystery."
Well... That's a very 19th-century thing to say. Scientific investigation? What's that? The good thing was that I, who had performed the surgery, could help a bit.
"I saw the wound."
"Huh?"
Forensic science wasn't a big part of my grades, but... I studied hard. Plus, I've been dealing with trauma for years. It was obvious that I'd be much better than any average policeman.