Dark-Haired British Doctor Chapter 79

Episode 79 Labor Pains [2]

arsenic.

If we look at the most common form used in our daily lives, it would probably be rat poison.

Who would have thought of feeding patients the raw material for rat poison… … .

I started to feel a little guilty, but when I thought of the patients here, my resolve hardened again.

“Yes, please. But how do you conduct the experiment?”

“Well. If we process it with this kind of fire and do this and that, wouldn’t something come out of it?”

"ah."

ah!

Is that all a chemist can say?

'No… … Is there such a thing as chemical formulas now… … ?'

I don't think I've seen it.

So, isn't that why you're saying such uncivilized things?

What this meant was that even if that person and all the other chemists got together and tried the method of lighting fire on arsenic, there was no chance of getting Salvarsan, or arsenic compound 606.

“Then go ahead. Don’t worry. I’m good at chemistry.”

“Oh, yes.”

I thought I had come here for nothing since Blundell and Liston had only given me good things to do, but I soon changed my mind.

Isn't this an era where it's hard to survive without infinite positivity?

Even just thinking about good thoughts made me feel like I was going to lose my mind, so I had to make sure I didn't have time to feel frustrated.

'Okay… let's buy bread… let's buy bread.'

Let's buy some bread and take it home to let it rot…

'Yeah! Come to think of it, Fleming is British, right?'

Is this England too?

I guess the same fungus will grow?

Besides, it rains a lot in London, and it’s dirty, so… … it seemed like the perfect environment.

'Okay, let's not do that… … Let's just grow the fungus.'

What is needed to grow fungi is… … none other than a culture medium.

You might be wondering how on earth you can make a badge, but it was surprisingly easy.

When I showed interest in physiology or microbiology during my undergraduate studies, the professors would tell me, “Hey, you can grow it at home!” and teach me.

“Agar… … .”

“Huh? What are you talking about?”

“Let’s buy some seaweed.”

“Huh… …? All of a sudden? Let’s go to the market? That’s not a place a gentleman should go.”

“I live for experiments, not cooking.”

"ah."

If we harden the water, doesn't it become like jelly?

That was optimal for fungal growth.

If you feel like it's not enough, you can sprinkle some sugar on it, but sugar is quite expensive at this time of year, so that might be difficult.

It was okay.

Just seaweed is enough.

Anyway, I was able to buy a bunch of bread and seaweed by persuading those gentlemen through experiments.

“Next is the willow tree.”

“Huh… …? Why is this kid like this today?”

“Let’s go to where the willow tree is.”

"no……."

While I was at it, I dug up some willow bark.

I sighed deeply when I thought about feeding this to people, but what can I do?

If I were still in a quiet place, the screams coming from the amputation ward would seem to pierce my eardrums… … .

If there's anything you can do, shouldn't you do it?

“If you eat this, people who were in pain will stop feeling sick.”

“Isn’t that because you’re dead? No, I’m just kidding. Is it something to look down on like that?”

When we got home and saw the willow bark, Alfred looked at me and grinned.

It's not that it wasn't, but the color made it look like it shouldn't be eaten.

What I thought was a light herbal medicine-like feeling, but this is… … .

'Doesn't this look a bit… a bit too messy?'

The only good thing was that the smell wasn't that bad, but the problem was that it was a color that only people who were really in pain would reject.

Well, it was okay.

Here at the hospital, patients will accept any treatment no matter how questionable it may seem.

It wasn't that I had trust in hospitals, but rather that I never went to the hospital unless I was extremely sick.

“What is this?”

Anyway, I don't know if it was because I was glaring at him or because he thought I would tell him to eat it, but Joseph pointed to the seaweed.

I too was wondering what this was at the time, so I couldn't answer easily.

I was given an agar plate… …I didn’t make it at home.

There was a lot of water flowing out, but I had no idea how to dry it so that it would turn into the familiar seaweed.

“Something might not work out. I’ll tell you when something does.”

“Hmm… … You don’t look like you have no expectations… … ? I really don’t know what’s going on.”

But I can't just do that, so I just gave a rough idea.

“This bread… … why is it here?”

The barrage of questions was endless.

This time it was Senior Alfred.

Actually, it seemed like that might be the case.

What kind of crazy person in the world would cut up bread into small pieces and put it on a table?

That too, with dozens of pieces sprinkled with water.

“I don’t have a fever.”

Joseph touched my forehead, seeming concerned.

If you say you have a fever, they will cut your hair to get rid of the cause of the fever…

Since they were guys who were more than capable of doing that, I shook my head at first.

“In an old book from Joseon… … there is a record that a fever was cured by eating rotten bread… … no, not bread, but mold on rice.”

From the moment the bread story came up, it would have been normal for the lie to have been exposed, but British children, then and now, have a mindset of the British Empire that rivals Chinese thought, so they have no interest in other people's cultures.

No, rather, wouldn't it be strange if I said that our country doesn't eat things like bread and instead eats rice as a staple food?

“Really? With stale bread?”

“Oh… So mold has that kind of effect too?”

Look at this.

You didn't even hear about the food later.

I don't know if there's some kind of filter in my ears, but I always ignore anyone who talks about other people's traditional culture.

At this time, it had to be extreme.

It's really the British Empire.

“Yeah, I’ll just take a look.”

“Then should we save some patients with fever?”

Anyway, after I convinced him like that, Joseph started saying something strange.

I blinked to see what was going on, and in the meantime, two people started talking to each other without me.

“Yes, if there was such a record, it would be right to check it.”

“Yeah. When bread goes bad, we cut off the moldy part and eat it.”

“So if you survive, it really works.”

“Or… … should I try feeding it some other fungus?”

“Is that so?”

Those crazy guys.

He's so excited about killing people.

Looking back, it is true that medicine developed thanks to this crazy experimental spirit…

Meanwhile, tears welled up in my eyes as I thought about the innocent patients who were sacrificed.

“No, no! How can you write it directly to a patient!”

He also added that he would not just keep it on his desk, but would place it all over the house.

“Why on earth?”

“If there were any kind of mold here, they would all be the same.”

"huh……?"

ah.

Nowadays, there is no concept of bacteria, let alone fungi.

Bringing history forward was a very difficult task in many ways.

I continued speaking quietly, feeling respect for the protagonists of the alternative history novels I had read to kill time.

“There are molds growing all over the place. Not all molds are the same.”

“Is that so… … ?”

“I don’t know.”

It wasn't easy to speak quietly.

I had to control my emotions, which felt like they were going to explode.

“Let’s see if that’s true or not. Anyway, I have my thoughts… … Don’t ever cut this up and feed it to me because it’ll rot.”

“Uh… … Yeah, well.”

"okay."

“Seriously. You shouldn’t feed them. How on earth do you come up with the idea of feeding mold to people?”

“You said you would feed me.”

"under."

As I was taking a deep breath, Joseph, who was quick-witted, nodded.

“Okay, okay. I’ll wait for now.”

"okay……."

It was fortunate that he was kind.

“But doesn’t this mean you can eat it tomorrow?”

Then Alfred pointed to the willow bark water I had brewed.

It had a visual that completely destroyed the credibility of what I had just said.

‘That’s strange… … It looks pretty good, whether it’s a goro-soi or something… … ?’

Why are there so many impurities… …?

Should I have cleaned the shell a bit?

First of all, the black thing was a bit strange.

But I couldn't tell if this was really weird or not.

Are you saying that a 21st century Korean doctor would be crazy and say that he is going to eat willow bark?

Just give me medicine if I need it… … .

This is so natural.

“Uh… … yeah.”

“That won’t work, but this will?”

“This is… … okay… … .”

“That sounds a bit strange.”

“Anyway, don’t feed it mold!”

“Oh, I got it. I got it. You’re really fierce today.”

In times like this, the best thing to do is just throw a tantrum and let it go.

If it sounds petty, it's true, so I have nothing to say.

What can I do?

I know I'm right, but I have no way to explain it.

'Hmm… … It hasn't rotted yet… … The only good thing is that it looks plausible.'

As soon as I got up in the morning, I examined the bread, the seaweed water, and the willow bark water in turn.

The seaweed looked like the agar I always saw.

I scooped it into several plates and put it on my palms and the soles of my feet.

“What… What are you doing?”

“You come and take some pictures too.”

“Why… why? This isn’t some kind of ritual, is it?”

"consciousness?"

“Why… … heresy… … .”

“No, no. It’s an experiment.”

“An experiment… … ?”

Even I think that putting something white on a plate and stamping my bare hands and feet on it seems closer to a suspicious ritual than an experiment…

Anyway, it was not that it was not true, so I dealt with it firmly.

Joseph reluctantly followed my lead, but when he listened closely, he saw that I was reciting the Lord's Prayer.

In particular, he was repeating, 'Save us from evil.'

It was unfair.

'Just wait and see.'

It was so frustrating that I couldn't say anything right now.

“That… that’s it?”

"uh."

“That pot… looks heavy… .”

“I still have to take it. I have to go and ask them to make some for me.”

“Are you really not aware of this?”

“That’s why I said no?”

In addition, I brought willow bark water with me.

Looking back, I felt uneasy because the pot looked like a witch's cauldron, but I made up my mind.

Let's just think about the patients in the amputation ward for now.

Then, my will, which had been weakening, became stronger.

If only I could alleviate even a little the suffering of the patients in hell itself… … .

I could have carried a real witch's cauldron.

“Why… why are you distancing yourself from me?”

“Huh? Did you feel that way? No?”

“You’re still walking too fast.”

“Oh, no. That’s not it?”

Those idiots who didn't understand the meaning of the word "big bastard" started rushing forward as soon as they arrived at the hospital.

I headed to the amputation ward anyway.

Salvation to those who are inside… … .

No, because those kids keep saying consciousness, I end up using weird words without realizing it.

“Please… … Please let me go… … .”

Anyway, the first thing that caught my eye when I went inside was surprisingly Killian.

A rugged Irish sailor was left with the world's smallest eyes after just one day in the amputation ward.