Dark-Haired British Doctor Chapter 470

Episode 470: Mitral Regurgitation [2]

It is impossible to make a new mitral valve.

Because mitral valve replacement is something that will probably be possible in the next 100 years.

In fact, even if you look at it from 100 years ago, it is not a great amount of time.

World War II didn't even break out.

Even though it's only a year apart.

"line."

"yes."

"after……."

So there are several methods that come to mind.

One method is to suture the sagging and damaged mitral valve from the edge.

Wouldn't that make it a bit narrower?

I don't know how much it will be, but…

Quantitative surgery is impossible in the first place.

'Actually… most surgeries are like this even in the 21st century.'

The trauma surgery department I worked in had a slightly different concept.

That's because keeping it alive is the priority rather than prioritizing functionality.

When I go for the second or third surgery, I will consider the function, but…

Complete reconstruction was impossible.

For example, if the jawbone is blown off, it is usually rebuilt with the calf bone, but can that completely replace the function of the jawbone?

It's 100 times better than not doing anything, but no one can expect 100%.

"after."

I'm making all sorts of excuses, but…

Whatever it is, it's hard to deny that what I'm doing now is far inferior to 21st century surgery.

“Plain. There’s not much left.”

“Yes, I know.”

Still the sand slides downwards with a desolate sound.

It doesn't sound good, but that's what makes it good.

Because it awakens your senses.

“I don’t think we were able to achieve any meaningful sutures…….”

Additionally, Liston's bitter words help.

Yeah, I just sewed the edges.

It's definitely narrower than before… … .

Well, if it were narrower by even 1 or 2% in terms of overall width, that would be good.

They're saying that we need to suture the inside more… … .

"line."

"yes."

I steeled my resolve and took the thread again.

Liston also strengthened my resolve.

"It's something I can't do even if I die. I guess there's nothing I can do."

“Yes, that’s right.”

Yes, it is something that cannot be done even if you die.

There can't always be the best outcome in everything.

'Fuck… … Charles Bailey, what the hell are you… … .'

The person who comes to mind is called the father of thoracic surgery.

He is a legendary figure who turned public opinion around by barely succeeding in a surgery that risked his life as a doctor, or rather, as a human being, after suffering through five table deaths.

It's called a legend, but in reality, when you learn about it in medical school, you're always called a crazy person.

The last surgery failed in the morning (the patient died) and was done in the afternoon at another hospital before the rumor spread.

This guy has some moral issues.

'No, that's not it.'

But when I look back at it from a similar era, it seems like he was just someone who had the courage to take one more step.

what…….

There are also criticisms that say he is crazy about fame and that he is crazy about showing off.

It's amazing that a doctor, who knows better than anyone that a person can die at his fingertips, did something like that…

'That person also had a mission given by God.'

This time, the mission has just been passed on to me.

I've always been hesitant.

What is this life that I have come to live again?

It's certainly easier than life in the 21st century…

Can a being called God give such a great gift to a single human being without any compensation?

'No… … That can't be.'

There is a saying that with power comes responsibility.

It's a cliché that appears often in old hero movies, but…

The reason it is still used is probably because there is no truth that is as good as that.

Jiik.

I inserted a needle into the mitral valve, which was damaged by infection and inflammation, and passed it through to the other side to make a meaningful suture.

At that moment, a sound more eerie than the sound of falling sand brushed my ears.

"ah!"

Liston's scream came next.

We were already making the needles thinner and stronger.

For this surgery, we prepared needles that could literally be considered luxury goods.

Otherwise, the weakened valve would not be able to hold up.

But… … .

"Shit……."

"this……."

“First, I have to close my heart. There’s no time.”

“Damn it!”

Haven't I told you this over and over again?

Doing your best doesn't always lead to the best results.

Even though I and the best craftsmen from 'PS' company were involved, all our efforts were in vain as the patient's valve could not hold up and tore.

In fact, it was even more serious than before the surgery.

-Surgery failed.

It's just a simple four-letter word, but the meaning it carries is truly enormous.

A person… … dies.

That person who was talking to us until we were put under anesthesia dies.

The person I promised to save dies.

Of course, the operating room was completely quiet.

No one could even open their mouths.

Even for a 19th century doctor who had no choice but to see people die, it was the same.

“Clamp out.”

"out."

Anyway, Liston and I closed our hearts very skillfully.

Then he released the clamp holding the blood vessel.

Then blood began to rush into the heart.

"ah."

"this."

But it was different from the patient earlier in many ways.

It wasn't that my heart wasn't beating.

This guy, who had worked diligently all his life to perpetuate his master's life, was still doing his best.

But the blood is flowing.

It's so serious that it can be seen without any equipment.

“Can you… break it?”

I shook my head at Liston's words.

That didn't mean it wouldn't work.

It means I don't know.

Liston, who knew this, turned his head towards Alfred.

Alfred opened both hands after observing the patient's blood pressure, heart rate, and general movements.

“10 minutes…….”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Okay. Tell the guardian outside to come in first.”

At Liston's words, John Snow opened the operating room door and stepped out.

Meanwhile, we began to close the patient's chest.

Liston used his awl to poke a hole through which the thread could pass.

I threaded the silk through the hole and tied a knot.

We didn't exchange any words, but we got along better than ever.

If the patient's condition had been even slightly better, he would have been praising himself.

Squeak.

But we didn't open our mouths until John brought his guardian in.

“What… what’s going on?”

The guardian already seemed to know something.

Well, that can't be helped.

The patient who had surgery earlier met his guardian only after the surgery was over and he was moved to the hospital room.

No, doesn't that usually happen?

It is usually a bad sign when the original procedure is changed.

This is especially true if it is a hospital.

“Unfortunately, Mrs. Winston, the surgery was a failure.”

The guardian, that is, the patient's wife, closed her eyes tightly at my words.

The tears that had been piling up flowed down my cheeks.

If it were an emergency room, there would usually be shouting from now on.

In more intense cases, fists may also be thrown.

I saw it too.

But perhaps it is because we live in an age where death is so close.

Or maybe it's because they know the patient was prepared to die.

“Can I say hello… hello?”

Even though it was the last greeting, his attitude was calm.

They're not an old couple either.

As far as I know, Mrs. Winston is only nineteen years old.

The patient is 22 years old.

The story is that a couple aged 19 and 22 are just preparing to break up.

In the meantime, the best I, or rather, we can do is just to be able to say hello.

“I’ll do that for you.”

"thank you."

“Yes, ma’am. I will do my best.”

After making that promise to our guardian once again, Liston and I began to close the wound in silence again.

Closing a split breastbone is a natural but not easy task.

Ironically, the patient was quite good at closing.

In addition, the skin was closed well.

Strangely enough, this feels like it's going much better than the heart surgery that was really important.

"flaw……."

Anyway, thanks to the timely closure, Alfred was able to have the tube removed in time.

The patient began to blink his dry eyes.

It was while groaning.

Is it because of the pain or… … .

“Huh, huh.”

I was confused as to whether it was because I was out of breath, but now I know.

"You'll be out of breath. Your blood won't be circulating properly. I'll explain in more detail later."

I looked back at the patient for a moment, then spoke to Mrs. Winston.

Would I be the last person the patient would want to see?

It's not for nothing that doctors call family members when a patient is not feeling well.

Because both the patient and the family want to be together until the end.

“First, go and say hello.”

“Ah…… yes…….”

Mrs. Winston nodded at my words and approached her husband.

The husband was still panting.

It can't be helped.

Because the blood… won’t circulate properly.

Five minutes at most? No, I don't know.

One thing is certain: it will be difficult to get through today.

“Let’s step aside for a moment.”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

Liston and I, along with everyone else, moved to a corner.

Alfred, who was in charge of anesthesia, was the only one left.

It probably doesn't mean anything.

It's not because of Alfred.

It's not even the 19th century.

There is no way to immediately fix a heart that has reached that state, even in the 21st century.

‘Well… … if we wait for an organ transplant or have a replacement surgery while on ECMO, there might be a way.’

Come to think of it, there is.

It's a crazy time, the 21st century.

“Huh, huh…….”

“Honey… You’ve worked hard.”

"her……."

"you……."

"go……."

"meet."

"mind……."

“I was happy.”

"woah……."

While I was thinking about that, the greeting ended.

Mrs. Winston was still saying something, but that wasn't considered conversation.

It's just called a monologue.

“Alfred.”

“Yes, Professor.”

At my words, Alfred closed the patient's eyes.

And then I lifted the stethoscope and placed it on the patient's chest.

I can't hear anything.

"I am……."

“Madam, please continue speaking. Your hearing will remain until the very end.”

“Oh, yes.”

You may not have heard it already.

It is highly probable that Mrs. Winston's tearful expressions of affection were all in vain.

In fact, it's actually a hindrance.

Since the stethoscope is not very good to begin with, it gets confusing when noise gets mixed in.

But I didn't bother to stop her.

‘What I did, or that… … .’

Instead, they waited for about 10 more minutes and then pronounced him dead.

As I left the room, Liston handed me a cigarette.

It was a high-quality pipe that he had been meaning to give me someday.

“You have to make a habit of smoking when something good happens.”

Instead of refusing as usual, I took the pipe and put it in my mouth.

Then Liston skillfully lit the fire.

Even so, the cigarette smoke pushing into my lungs was not pleasant.

But today I decided to just smoke.

Just as love is forgotten by another love, pain is also forgotten by another pain.