Chapter 109: Suddenly [3]
If this were an operating room, it would be ranked in the top 100 on the Melon charts by now… but it was just a classroom. A room full of people chatting excitedly about someone else’s surgery. Welcome to the nineteenth century.
“What are you doing?”
“I heard there’s a stomach surgery happening?”
“Oh? Can I buy a seat?”
“I don’t know.”
Were they insane? Did they think this was a movie theater? No, scratch that. People would not talk this loudly even in a movie theater. I got chills just listening to them. Before I knew it, I had completely acclimated to this era.
Slosh.
Anyway, I washed my hands, put on gloves, and washed them again. Meanwhile, Senior Alfred, who could not even ride in a carriage, came rushing in already half out of breath and was put in charge of anesthesia. It should not have been too hard. All he had to do was turn the anesthesia gas valve. But there was something more important: checking whether the patient was breathing.
“Don’t worry!”
I felt a bit reassured seeing Alfred smile, even if he flashed his yellow teeth. At least he could breathe.
My hands are already tired… maybe real anesthesia would be better.
It was not that I could not study. I just lacked patience. But above all, Alfred listened well. Honestly, maybe anesthesiology would suit him best.
Chideok, chideok.
I poured the boiled and cooled water Colin had prepared over the patient’s wound. The patient twitched a bit, maybe because the anesthesia was wearing off, but only briefly. Wait, was there no way to increase the gas?
“Hm.”
“Mmm.”
I was not convinced that boiling Thames water magically made it clean. But still, the wound became clearer under the flow of water.
“Scalpel.”
“Oh, is it Amputation time?”
“What?”
The intestines looked intact, but to be sure, I needed to extend the incision and examine them. So I asked for a knife. Liston offered me his namesake Liston knife. No, I did not take it. He tried to hand it to me. That was more accurate.
“No Amputation?”
“Where?”
“Right here.”
“Wait…”
Liston pointed at the injury. If I cut there, I would be slicing the woman in half. I was stunned into silence. Fortunately, Liston was not completely thoughtless. Noticing my reaction, he quietly set the knife down.
“She’s going to die anyway, right?”
“Sure, she’ll die.”
“Then by knife, I guess you mean your tiny little knife.”
“Why are you saying that while staring at my lower half?”
“Well, the size difference isn’t that big.”
If the woman had been just a bit smaller, she would have died for sure. Shaking off the humiliation, I picked up the proper scalpel. Thankfully, Colin put on his gloves and stepped up to assist. Regardless of his personality, the guy had good hands and a sharp eye.
“First…”
“Let’s keep it cheerful, at least.”
“No… Cutting someone open is only exciting if you’re living in a pre-anesthesia world.”
“That’s true.”
I bet Liston had similar thoughts. Maybe that was why he swung his knife with such abandon. I was not sure I could ever return to the modern mindset after this.
Jiip.
Despite the chaos, I extended the incision slightly. Not too wide, because of the infection risk. You did not shove moldy bread into someone’s stomach, did you? As much as I knew about Penicillin, I did not have the guts to scrape mold into someone’s bloodstream.
“Oh, getting hungry?”
“Huh… I heard Dr. Pyeong has a real experimental streak.”
“Must be. That’s why Asians have such a great reputation.”
“Isn’t he basically an honorary white guy at this point?”
They said all this while not even wearing masks. Never mind that I hated the term itself. What worried me more were the visible bacteria spewing from their unwashed mouths.
Cluck.
Liston clicked his tongue, watching my overly cautious attitude.
“You think you can see anything from that angle?”
Oh. I underestimated him. That was the top name in London for you.
“Pay close attention. Hey, bring some fire!”
“Uh… me?”
“Yes, you.”
“Uh…”
“If you don’t want to get left behind, go light it.”
“Ah, yes.”
Everyone else was already busy. Liston was observing and assisting, Joseph was just standing with his mouth open, Colin was helping, and Alfred was out cold. I called over the nearest idle student. When he came over, I realized it was the “yellow monkey” guy, the one who always muttered nonsense. Whatever. In front of Liston, everyone shut up and obeyed.
Hmm.
Looking into the abdominal cavity through the widened incision… It was bad. I expected as much. After all, when something sharp stabbed you in the gut, the intestines were bound to take damage. But thankfully, our bodies had one great defense: the mesentery.
“It’s… pretty bad.”
The mesentery, a fatty membrane between the intestines and the abdominal wall, acted like a cushion, shielding internal organs and preventing leakage. This time, it did its job. That was why I could not see the intestinal wound earlier. But when I extended the incision to the side… yep. A small tear in the intestines.
And, of course… feces.
Seriously?
The wound was not long, proof that the attacker was a total amateur. If it had been a professional, they would have aimed for a major blood vessel. One stab even missed entirely and just grazed the skin.
Do I have to do a stoma…?
Still, the risk of death was high. If this were Korea, I would be doing this surgery while chatting with the nurses. No fear of losing the patient. But here…
No, I can’t afford to think like that. I’ll suture the intestine like it’s an appendix case. Let’s just do it.
It was time to get serious.
“Clamp.”
“Uh, here.”
“Cut here.”
“You’re going to suture it?”
“Yes. It’s worth a try.”
“Hmm… Okay, but… the patient’s skin feels colder than before. Is that normal?”
“Ah.”
Alfred, you bastard. When I asked you to monitor breathing, was that all you checked? The woman’s skin was so cold I could feel it even through my gloves.
Is she gone?
I checked. Alfred shook his head.
“No, she’s still breathing. It’s faint, though.”
“Still breathing” was not comforting. Her chest was barely moving.
I’d normally do a transfusion…
Blood Transfusions had a bad reputation. Blundell had introduced them, but too many deaths followed. It was not the Vatican that banned it. It was hospital directors. Still, if Liston approved, we might get away with it. But he was very much against transfusions right now.
Then let’s keep going and close her up fast.
Fluids? Maybe. But there was no time to fuss.
“Let’s start suturing.”
“All right. Don’t overthink it. She was a goner anyway.”
Gee, thanks for the encouragement.
I stitched slowly and carefully. The only real comfort was Colin. He assisted gently, always one step ahead of my needs. He did not know all the techniques, but he had the instincts. I could work with that. Train him right, and my job would get easier in the future.
Hmm.
Of course, that was just wishful thinking. This was still a nineteenth-century hospital. Even the suture thread—
Actually… it’s easier.
Modern nylon thread was slippery as hell. Even when I tied a proper knot, it would come undone. I got chewed out for that in my first year. But this rough silk or cotton thread? It stayed tied, even if bacteria loved hiding in the fibers.
Just trust the patient.
After all, this woman did not die even after being stabbed and losing blood. Maybe people from this era were just built different. Insa River-level toughness.
Lord…
No wonder they believed in God. I found myself praying automatically.
Jiip.
Still, I kept sewing. Carefully. The small intestine was thin and fragile. Too much pressure, and it would collapse. The needle was way thicker than what I was used to, but so what? A real craftsman did not blame his tools. Okay, I blamed them sometimes, but I was still a genius.
I can feel them watching.
First the intestine, then the peritoneum, then muscle, fat, and skin. All of it was stitched up. Even if they did not know the technique, the crowd could tell it was something incredible. The guy with his mouth hanging open clearly thought so.
Liston, who had been observing quietly, came over and snipped the excess thread from the last knot.
“That’s good. For now… the wound’s sealed.”
“Now then, shall we ask about the culprit?”
“Oh my, what the hell?!”
I turned my head and saw the police had entered the room. Great. I had just been elbow-deep in someone’s intestines, and now the cops showed up.
“What does ‘hell’ mean?”
“It’s Korean. Kind of like an exclamation. It means I was really, really surprised.”
Trying not to offend the authorities, I smiled sheepishly and did not even bother waking the patient.
“And anyway, questioning her now is impossible. She’s under anesthesia. You’ll have to wait.”
“At this rate, the culprit might get away…”
“Do you have any leads?”
I was not trying to be difficult. I just wanted them to think. But the officer responded with a confused look that screamed, “No clue.”
“There were no witnesses… No weapon… It’s a mystery.”
Very nineteenth-century logic. What about forensics? Fingerprints? Blood spatter analysis? Nothing.
Still, there was one advantage.
“I’ve seen the wound.”
“Huh?”
I may not have majored in forensic science, but I studied it. And I sure as hell knew more than these officers.
Footnotes
Translator’s Notes
Melon charts — Music ranking charts from Melon, a major South Korean music streaming platform. The narrator uses it as a modern Korean pop-culture comparison for how noisy the room is.
Stoma — A surgically created opening from an internal organ to the outside of the body, often used to divert intestinal contents.
Peritoneum — Thin membrane lining the abdominal cavity and covering abdominal organs.
Blood spatter analysis — Forensic method of examining blood patterns to infer details about a violent incident.
Fingerprints — Ridge patterns on fingers used for identification in forensic investigation; modern fingerprinting was not yet established in this setting.