Dark-Haired British Doctor Chapter 2

Episode 2 19th Century [2]

“Save me, you little shi*s!”

“Aren’t you doing this to save me!”

“These crazy guys, they need surgery! They need surgery!”

“Didn’t I tell you to be careful? What are these legs?”

The patient was literally going crazy.

Thanks to the old man, I was able to sit in a good seat and started examining the patient's wounds.

Usually, when we talk about surgical supervision, it's strange that the word supervision is attached to surgery, but let's skip it. In any case, shouldn't there be some distance?

That seems like common sense.

Here, common sense seemed to have been thrown to Andromeda, and I was sitting right in front of it.

'What was medicine like in the 19th century?'

I tried to think back on what I had learned as a student, but it was no use.

That, that one-credit subject… … isn’t that a subject that neither the professor nor the students care about?

I don't remember anything.

So I decided to just see the patient again.

'It's beyond cellulitis (a skin disease caused by bacterial infection)… … It's rotten. Should I amputate it?'

From my long experience, that was the cutting angle.

Amputating a leg may feel horrifying.

It was inevitable.

If we don't do that, the patient will die.

Can any reason pale in comparison to life itself?

So, I cheered on those who were holding the patient rather than the patient, and although it was a bit scary, they were still trying to save him.

But as I looked, I found it a bit strange that I couldn't see anything that should normally be in an operating room.

“But you don’t use anesthesia?”

"anesthesia?"

There were no ventilators, and most importantly, no anesthesia machines.

So I asked the old man, and he asked me back with a face like, "What are you talking about?"

'Oh, right… … My uncle isn't a doctor.'

okay.

Upton is such a rural area that there weren't any surgeries, right?

So, it is possible that he did not know about anesthesia.

"huh?"

At that moment, the old man suddenly sat up.

“Now that I think about it, this isn’t the time to be doing this.”

"yes?"

Both Joseph and I looked puzzled.

Before I could stop him, the old man walked towards the patient and said this.

Then he handed me three bottles of wine that were in his bag.

“Drink this.”

“No, there’s nothing to be thankful for… … .”

“You have to drink it all. Otherwise it’ll hurt?”

“Haha, thank you.”

After exchanging incomprehensible words, the person who had been holding the patient tightly in his hands accepts the alcohol and begins to feed it to the patient.

“You spoke well. Thanks to Taepyeong, I’m good at anesthetizing patients.”

"yes?"

Alcohol is an anesthetic?

These crazy guys.

Alcohol is these people… … .

They say that drinking it lowers your blood pressure… … .

If the patient is already bleeding and the blood pressure drops, then… … .

“Oh, there comes the doctor. You guys are lucky. He is the best doctor in London.”

As I was about to say something, the old man pointed to one side of the square.

Strangely, I thought that place was the only one empty.

A group of people appeared from that side as if they were boxers entering the arena.

“Who… is the best?”

Judging from their impressions, they don't seem like doctors but people who do bad things.

I couldn't tell the difference no matter how hard I looked, so I asked the old man.

Then the old man laughed heartily again.

“Hahaha! You guys are like the Upton hillbillies!”

It seemed like you had decided to forget for a moment that you were also an Upton person.

Anyway, the old man laughed heartily and pointed to one of the group.

“That’s Dr. Robert Liston. If you want to be a surgeon, you should aim for him.”

"ah……."

"wow."

It was literally wow.

Should I say that the frame is large?

He had a physique that seemed more suited to a general than a doctor.

Even though it was Britain, which had not yet fully benefited from industrialization, the average height was less than 170 cm, but that person looked well over 180 cm tall.

It was really scary to see that person wearing a black suit instead of a gown.

‘This is the best name… … .’

What does appearance matter?

They say he's the best.

I also strained my eyes, thinking that this was the time to properly see the medicine of this era.

In some ways, it already seemed like a failure, since the surgery was being performed in such an open outdoor plaza, and with all these people invited.

Still, I held onto a glimmer of hope.

“Good morning, Londoners. My name is Dr. Liston. Robert Liston. I am also a professor at the University College London School of Medicine.”

Dr. Liston introduced himself in a voice as loud as his size.

It was a little strange.

‘No… … Why did you give me that kind of introduction before the surgery… … I didn’t come here to sell medicine… … .’

And aren't you a professor?

If you're a professor, you don't need to promote yourself, right?

“Everyone, please watch the surgery today and remember my name. If you ever need surgery! I will be needed then!”

If you just look at his actions, he was clearly a pharmacist.

“Eww! Save me!”

“You drink more, if you want to live.”

The patient who saw this screamed for a moment, but the people around him, friends or enemies, poured alcohol into his mouth.

The patient, who had already drunk so much that his face turned red, soon became quiet.

'Is he dead…?'

While I was harboring reasonable suspicions, the person who appeared to be Liston's disciple who had followed him opened his bag.

Liston pulled out the knife inside.

“Look at these countless traces! These are the proof of my years of experience!”

crazy.

You son of a bitch.

hey.

If I were a little bigger, I would have run away swearing.

No, if only they weren't Asians… … .

'No. Don't do that. You can't do that.'

Liston's knife was caked with blood, grease, and bits of flesh, presumably from previous patients.

Even if you clean it thoroughly, sterilize it at high temperature, and put it in a sterilizer, it won't be enough, so why are you using a knife that looks like it has foreign matter all over it?

This was not surgery, it was execution.

“Uh huh.”

As soon as he saw the knife, the patient started screaming again.

It was a natural thing.

Even my country would be horrified if they saw something like that.

The alcohol must have completely worn off.

“That coward.”

The old man clicked his tongue and said, “Ah, sir,” as he looked at the patient.

'No… … That's not cowardice.'

That's a perfectly reasonable reaction, sir!

First of all, the fact that we're watching means this operation is a bust!

“Catch it.”

Liston, who had been staring blankly at the patient, said this.

Then, people who were either disciples or gangsters ran out and skillfully secured the patient to the table.

“Oh, oh! Please! Please have mercy!”

The patient screamed as if he were a death row inmate.

But unlike before, it was of little use.

The disciples' strength was so strong that their shoulders, waists, and legs were unable to move.

“Cut it.”

Dr. Liston continued speaking.

And the movements of the disciples also continued without rest.

Jiiyiik-

I thought he would cut off my leg right away when he told me to cut it, but thankfully that wasn't the case.

First, I cut off the pants.

Then, the affected area, which had not been visible until just now, began to appear.

"town."

The smell was also bad.

It definitely had to be cut.

'Okay. Okay, I understand… … Now let's just disinfect it.'

I was wondering what use it would be to disinfect the knife since it was that shape and that appearance.

Wouldn't it be better if we could at least reduce the number of bacteria in our bodies?

Something like this occurred to me.

'No, before that, teacher… … teacher, aren't you wearing gloves… … .'

At least wear a mask.

리스턴 박사님인지 개새끼인지 하는 분은 그저 맨얼굴이었다.

His hands were also bare.

“Tie it up.”

No, but doesn't it seem unsuitable to say 'bare-handed' when you're holding a knife?

Anyway, at the words to tie it up, the disciple tightly tied the patient's thigh.

It was a leather strap, and just tying it looked painful.

“Eww! Eww, eww.”

Naturally, the patient screamed.

Then, either because he was out of breath or because he had too much to drink, he vomited to the side.

Some of the debris splashed and got stuck on the bridge.

“Hey, it’s a shame I made you drink.”

Still, the only one who muttered or said anything was the old man.

The surgery showed no signs of stopping.

'Let's wipe the stool… … humanely.'

Against my wishes, Liston opened his mouth again.

“Hold on tight.”

And at the same time.

At the exact same time, a light flashed before my eyes.

Bam!

Liston immediately brought down the knife he was holding.

Because it was a knife that looked to be about 30cm long, not the size of a scalpel I was used to, the sunlight pouring down on the square reflected here and there.

Chura-rara-rak!

Blood spurted everywhere along with it.

No matter how much I tied it with a strap, the blood that was trapped inside wouldn't go anywhere.

'Ugh.'

Even so, as a surgeon, I was able to follow the changes in the wound.

'Are you a sword master?'

One knife.

With just one stroke, not only the skin but even the muscles were completely torn off.

“Eww!”

Naturally, the patient's screams continued unceasing.

Neither Liston nor his disciples paid any attention to this.

"top."

He just started cutting the bone right away.

“Ugh, ugh!”

The bones were being cut off right before my eyes with a crunching sound.

“Wow, it’s a good idea! It hasn’t even been 30 seconds yet!”

At this horrible sight, a typical London gentleman with a well-grown moustache exclaimed:

I glanced at him and saw that he was holding a watch in his hand.

You crazy bastard.

Is it something a doctor would do to cut off a leg in 30 seconds?

Even if Lu Bu had swung the Fangcheonhwageok, it would have taken longer than this.

That's right-

Bone fragments flying everywhere.

Finally the bone fell off.

"line."

Blood splattered everywhere, but it was most noticeable on Dr. Liston's face.

There were no evil spirits.

In the meantime, Liston held out his hand with an indifferent expression and handed over the needle and thread that his disciple had been fiddling with with his bare hands.

Liston began to suture the bulging blood vessel with the thread and needle.

'Can I survive?'

no.

That's dead.

That wasn't surgery.

It was almost an insult to surgery.

'Infection… … Dying from infection… … No, it seems like I'm already dead?'

I carefully examined the patient's face.

The person who had been screaming that he was dying from pain just a moment ago was quiet.

It was very likely that he either fainted from the pain or died from shock caused by the pain.

It was natural since he had already gotten very drunk.

"uh……."

I felt dizzy when I thought about the fact that the person who did it was none other than a doctor.

Is it the feeling of your eyes going dark?

I thought I saw the sky instead of the operating table, and then I heard the old man's voice in my ear.

“No, how can you become a surgeon when you can’t even see this?”

no.

no.

So, fainting is… no.

This is… this is not surgery…

'I… I'll change everything, you savages… '

That day, I also began to dream of becoming a surgeon.

“I want to be like that too.”

For a slightly different reason than Joseph's nonsense.