Chapter 104: An Object Called a Bicycle [1]
“Ha…”
A sigh escaped my lips. After earning some money, I always found myself sighing again the moment I stepped into the hospital. It was not because I hated working. If that were the case, I would not have become a doctor in my past life. No, I sighed because of the people working around me.
“Hey… aren’t you going to wash your hands?”
“My hands? Isn’t that only necessary in the obstetrics and gynecology ward?”
“What…?”
“Besides, I didn’t even do an autopsy today, so it doesn’t matter.”
Common sense, you idiot. Of course it mattered. What about your patients? How many of Blundell’s patients had died the exact same way as others, even after he washed his hands?
“Can’t I just not wash my hands?”
“No. I don’t like it. It smells, and it makes my hands hurt. That makes treatment harder.”
It had only been a few months since handwashing became routine in Blundell’s ward, especially in obstetrics and gynecology, but the death rate had already dropped dramatically. Women who would have died from Puerperal Fever, a disease nearly eradicated in the twenty-first century, were now surviving.
So why were the other wards not following suit? It was not ignorance. They knew. They simply refused to change. The rule of the world should be that if you did not know something, you should be humble. But these people? They were arrogant precisely because they did not know anything.
“Hey, Pyeong.”
Dr. Liston called me. I did not bother forcing the guy I had just spoken to into washing his hands. I knew better.
“Yes?”
“I know what you think about handwashing. But…”
“There are rumors about me, aren’t there?”
“Yeah. They’re saying you’re crazy.”
“What? Just for telling people to wash their hands before seeing patients?”
“Most people would get annoyed even if you asked them to rinse with water, let alone Lime Chloride.”
Liston clicked his tongue and gestured to the Lime Chloride I had painstakingly stocked in the emergency room. It was not even that strong.
“Some people believe the myth that washing with it will give you syphilis.”
“What? That’s a sexually transmitted disease!”
“Right… but the concept confuses them. They think toxins can just seep into your hands.”
God. When were bacteria discovered again? Who was it? I wanted to go back, grab them by the collar, and give them all my money just to make them publish their findings faster.
“Anyway, you need to wash your hands. The mortality rate is clearly lower in the wards that do.”
“People say it’s all coincidence.”
“Coincidence…”
“Probably not, but they believe it. What can I do?”
“Ha…”
“Don’t be too harsh with them. You’re in no position right now. I can’t defend you if things get worse.”
“Understood.”
Yes, I was in the minority here. No, calling myself a “minority” might have been giving myself too much credit. I was the only Asian in this hospital. Probably one of only a handful in all of London. And by their standards, I was not even “Korean,” just generically “Asian,” maybe Indian if they were guessing.
Ha…
If I caused a real scene, things could escalate badly. It was best to wait.
Someday… when I have my own hospital. That’s when I’ll start fixing everything.
So I held my breath and backed down.
“All right… Are you injured?”
The guy I had argued with approached a patient without washing his hands, of course. I flinched, wanting to intervene, but Liston stopped me.
Breathe. Just breathe. Endure it.
Then the guy picked up a soldering iron.
“If I do this, the bleeding will stop.”
“I… that too?”
Why did these bastards keep torturing patients under the guise of “treatment”? Why cauterize a wound that was barely bleeding? Was this the same thing that happened to that guy before?
Liston had seen that case too, the man bitten by a dog. Thankfully, the man did not die. But his condition did not improve much either. Maybe he overcame rabies? Was the dried brain really effective?
“Ugh… my arm… it hurts…”
But the wound never healed properly. Dog teeth were filthy, and now it was even more of a mess thanks to poor treatment. Once the skin, the body’s first and best defense, was gone, infection became inevitable.
“I cut him. If I hadn’t, he would’ve died.”
“Yeah. It wasn’t rabies. It was exhaustion.”
“Haha. You sound confident. But don’t rabies symptoms start in the head or limbs?”
If Liston had not been here, I might have punched that smug face. Lucky for him, I was still intimidated by Liston.
“Anyway… didn’t Miss Emily recover just fine?”
“She was lucky.”
“Okay, so… luck, huh?”
“Yes. She survived after eating dried brain tissue. That’s luck.”
And then—
“Agh! Hey!”
While we were talking, the quack pressed the iron into the patient’s arm. It was not even a dog bite, just a scratch. Hell, it looked like he made it worse. And yet I could not step in. It was miserable, really. Like Liston said, I was a minority. I did not have the authority. And this was an era without real statistical reasoning.
“Hey! Over here!”
Just then, the door burst open, and another patient stumbled in, supported by someone else. The guy with the soldering iron started wagging his hips again.
Oh no. If he tries that again, someone is going to lose a limb.
“You’re not going to stop me, are you?”
“Uh? Uh… sure. I might have to amputate.”
Please do not say stuff like that so casually.
“What happened here?”
I jumped in, just like I would have in the emergency room.
“What are you doing!”
“Ah, sorry.”
“Sorry? You burned him!”
“Haha, my bad.”
“You’re laughing?!”
He tried to hand off the soldering iron but ended up burning another patient and tumbling backward. You would think they knew not to hold a dangerous tool like that, the way one kept a scalpel pointed down. But apparently not.
“Hey! How did this happen?”
I asked, turning to the crowd. The people, patients, friends, and family, looked at me in confusion. Moments like this reminded me just how underdeveloped medicine was in this era. Most doctors could not conduct a proper exam. And patients had no idea how any of it worked.
“Iced coffee! That’s why!”
At least we could communicate. Barely.
“A bicycle! I was riding a bike!”
“Ah…”
Bicycles, along with motorcycles, were one of the emergency room’s worst nightmares. Electric scooters were rising fast, but they had not yet dethroned the reigning kings of trauma.
Let me guess… he flew over the handlebars?
Most bike accidents happened when the front wheel caught on something. If you fell forward, your face hit the ground first. And unlike the twenty-first century, no one here wore helmets, just wigs or hats.
“Bring him here!”
I dragged the patient to a bed. The sheets were so filthy I hesitated to call them sheets, but I was a proper nineteenth-century doctor now. I lifted them without blinking and examined the patient.
Checking him did not just mean glancing at the wound.
His pupils… they still react. Dilated, but that’s probably from the shock.
I grabbed a lamp and shone the light in his eyes, first on the wound, then on the pupil. Simple. But people here did not even know what a pupil reflex was, so even when it happened in front of them, they did not recognize it.
“Ah…”
When I got a proper look at the injury, it was a real mess.
“Patient! Say something!”
The guardian was almost crying. They thought he was dead.
And honestly, he nearly was. He must have fallen with his mouth open, because his tongue was torn nearly in half. Blood had poured down his throat and soaked the back of his neck. Dragging him like that caused it to pool in his airway. He was suffocating.
“Knife!”
“A knife?!”
“Yes, give me a blade!”
If this were the future, I would intubate. But we were nowhere near that yet. Could I make a tube out of iron?
That would be torture…
Besides, to suppress the gag reflex, he would need sedation, and the only viable sedative was opium. And if you used enough to knock someone out for surgery, odds were that they never woke up.
Ssshhk.
I practically snatched the knife from Liston and cut the patient’s throat vertically. If I had more time, I would have made a horizontal incision, but we were out of time. No paramedics. No tools. Just a desperate chance.
“Hah… He’s going to die like this.”
“Quiet!”
“Okay, okay. But they say you’re crazy for doing this all the time. Uh… don’t glare like that while holding a knife.”
Maybe it was already too late. My hands were shaking. I was so focused on the patient that I forgot Liston was even in the room.
“That lunatic… he’s standing up to Liston?”
“Is he really insane?”
I heard the whispers, but I let them wash over me. I had more important things to deal with.
Footnotes
Translator’s Notes
Bicycle — A human-powered two-wheeled vehicle. Early bicycles became associated with frequent falls and injuries before modern safety equipment and road rules became common.
Lime Chloride — A chlorine-based disinfectant historically used for handwashing and sanitation. In this story, Taepyeong uses it to reduce infection risk.
Puerperal Fever — A postpartum infection that was often fatal before antiseptic practices became established.
Soldering Iron — A heated metal tool normally used for joining metals; historically, hot irons were also used for cauterization.
Intubation — A medical procedure in which a tube is inserted into the airway to maintain breathing.