Chapter 163: The Experiment... [5]
“Huh...”
Liston’s command was solemn. Alfred, our senior, lay there as if bound by fate. Though the phrase might sound strange, it simply meant he was on the verge of death.
“Rotate.”
“Ugh.”
Of course, Alfred was not the only one dying. Joseph and Colin were taking turns operating the bellows. Honestly, I felt sorry for them. But I could not offer to take over. I could not afford to.
Blood poisoning... I never thought it would progress this fast. Can he survive?
Staphylococcus... Isn’t that an especially aggressive bacterium?
I did not have Penicillin or anything like it, just moldy bread. Had there been any progress beyond that?
No.
We had tried to analyze the ingredients with chemists, but with no success. Well, if it were easy, someone would have figured it out long before the twentieth century.
“But, Pyeong.”
While I was still lost in thought, Liston called me. His face was tense, as if he had only now grasped the reality that people could actually die from this.
“How much longer do we need to keep this up?”
“Ah...”
I checked the clock. We had been working the bellows for over ten hours. The good news was that the children who had shown symptoms earlier were all improving. The suspected infections were clearly better than the night before. Maybe it was their resilience, or maybe it was the diluted food I had given them. Either way, the results were promising.
Four of them did not show any symptoms at all.
What kind of monsters were they?
“For now, we keep going.”
“Be honest. Do you think he’ll make it?”
“That... hmm.”
I looked again at the patient. He seemed about three or four years older than me. A young face, but clearly dying. His breathing had not changed much.
“I’m not sure yet.”
“Right. Hmm... Okay, so we keep at it.”
Liston glanced over at Joseph, who was still taking his turn at the bellows. Alfred and Colin were drenched in sweat. If we had an Ambu Bag, this would be easier, but using a bellows was exhausting. At least no one was scrambling for water like yesterday.
“Hey! Look at yourselves! Go get some water already!”
Well, it was not that things had truly improved. Rather, Liston had become obsessed with the idea that staying hydrated was crucial for survival.
“Hey.”
“Yes, I’ll drink some!”
Some of the boys were drinking so much that I began to wonder whether the water itself was the key. But I did not stop them. I was young too, and all I had done was drink the same water...
Wait.
Were these the students who recovered?
Could it be the water?
No, that could not be. If something like water were the key, this world really was broken.
I turned my attention back to the patient.
If we leave him like this, he’ll die.
His blood pressure was dropping. Without a blood pressure monitor, I could not get a reading, but I could tell from his pulse. It was weakening. Even if we kept pumping air into his lungs, it would not matter if the oxygen did not circulate.
Die from this, or die from that. Either way, he’s dying.
That was the situation.
Maybe my eyes changed when I made that decision. Maybe he remembered something I had said before. Blundell approached with a spark in his eye.
“Is it sap again? What did you do last time?”
“Ah... Yes, but there’s a bit of a problem.”
“Why? Why didn’t I do it too?”
“You know that water we drank had Miasma, right?”
It had not been sterilized. Not great, but if that water was truly lethal, humanity, or at least London, would already be extinct.
“Oh, right. We checked.”
“We can’t deny it now.”
Liston and Blundell nodded, surprisingly in sync with modern reasoning, aside from their belief in Miasma. If we ignored that one outdated concept, they were beginning to grasp the basics of scientific thinking.
Why am I crying...?
Was this what people meant by “overwhelmed”? All the frustration and exhaustion from the past few months, the stress and helplessness, flashed before me in that moment.
“Hey, are you okay?”
“You stayed up all night, didn’t you?”
“Your body’s weak. Want some Opium tincture? It’ll help you sleep.”
“Or maybe it’s your blood rushing. Want us to bleed you?”
God, there was still such a long way to go.
My frustration turned into a strange energy, making my heart race. My tears welled up again. Opium and Bloodletting were still the norms. So much remained to be fixed.
“No, no. First, let’s administer the sap. But the chances of survival are still slim. We need to contact the family.”
“I’ll take care of that. I’ll also call the priest.”
“And the police...? I guess we don’t need to call them?”
Honestly, from any perspective, had we not killed him? At best, it was manslaughter. If I got caught up in something like this at the start of my new life, it could be the end. Of course, if someone like me disappeared, history would simply carry on after countless deaths.
Or maybe this was not even the Earth I once knew.
Maybe the modern medical era I remembered would never come.
“The police?”
“Why?”
“I mean... the patient...”
“He’s dying during an experiment. No different from dying during surgery.”
“Ah.”
Come to think of it, people died here all the time, and the police never showed up. They only came when they suspected we were buying stolen corpses, not when someone died on the table. Unless it was something huge, London Police did not bother.
“Alright then. Call the family. And we need someone to hold him down.”
“I’ll hold him.”
“Ah... solid.”
There was probably no phrase more reliable than hearing Liston say, “I’ll hold him.”
After he left, Blundell and I fetched Distilled Water.
We can’t just inject it as-is. It’s not a small amount...
I needed to salt it properly. Thankfully, while the measurement units here were chaotic, I had lived here long enough to adjust. I did the conversions in my head, based on modern units.
“Why are you adding salt?”
Blundell was watching me closely. He had that eager-to-learn expression again. For all the flaws of this era, these doctors had real curiosity. Call it duty, call it romanticism. Either way, it was admirable.
“Well...”
Crap.
How was I supposed to explain Osmotic Pressure and blood tonicity? They did not even have microscopes capable of seeing bacteria yet. At best, they had some rudimentary dissection skills and surgical tools.
“If you salt meat, it lasts longer, right?”
“Ah, yes.”
My mouth moved on autopilot.
Bluff mode: engaged.
“I think the salt wards off Miasma.”
That was not technically wrong. Salt killed bacteria through osmosis. But to truly explain why salted meat spoiled less, I would need Germ Theory, and that did not exist here yet.
“Hmm. That’s a possibility.”
Surprisingly, Blundell nodded. Either my lie was convincing, or he was just that open-minded.
“Then let’s use a lot. Salt is cheap anyway.”
Wait, that might be too much.
I had improved the solution carefully, but now he was trying to dump in a whole handful.
“In Joseon, by the way.”
“Joseon? What now?”
“When we measure meat, we always use precise calculations.”
“Really?”
“Yes, so now is the time to salt properly.”
Did such a practice exist?
Probably not. Meat was not even that common in Joseon. But how would Blundell know?
“Aha. You make Joseon sound like such a great place. I’d love to visit one day.”
“It is a great country.”
Even if I was mostly bluffing, I could not help but puff out my chest a little.
“Anyway, yes. If salt kills Miasma, then we need to figure out how to kill the Miasma that is already inside the body. Hmm. I’ll test that later.”
...Okay.
I should keep a close eye on Blundell from now on. His passion for applying knowledge was admirable, but as a doctor, that also meant experimenting on patients. If he started injecting salt... well, a small dose probably would not kill anyone.
Right?
“Alright...”
Pushing those worries aside, I searched for the patient’s vein. If his blood pressure had dropped further, I might have needed a Central Venous Catheter, but the risk of infection made that a last resort.
That’s it.
I wrapped his forearm in poly tubing, originally meant for a urinary catheter, and located a vein. I inserted the needle. IV lines were rare, so I left the needle in.
“Hold him down.”
“Uh-huh.”
Even without understanding the details, they could tell one wrong move would be fatal. Two others rushed over to help restrain the unconscious patient. He might regain consciousness once the fluid entered him.
I worried about that.
Once before...
“I have the syringe.”
Liston returned, triumphant.
“You lot, this is your job now. Pyeong, start the infusion.”
“Ah, yes.”
With the patient now fully restrained, I could proceed more calmly. As the solution entered his body, he began to gurgle.
“Hold him properly...”
I was about to tell them not to jostle him, but I had to stop myself.
“Did you hit me back then...?”
“Yeah.”
“Ah...”
The patient passed out again.