It can’t be that hard to open a hospital in another world, right? 28

## Chapter 28: Emergency Treatment, Pastor Heals

Tension pneumothorax refers to a condition where a large air sac in the lung ruptures, or a deep tear in the lung or bronchus occurs. This rupture allows a one-way passage of air into the pleural cavity, leading to a condition known as tension pneumothorax.

As tension pneumothorax develops, the pressure in the pleural cavity drops during inhalation, allowing air to enter. During exhalation, the pressure rises, but the valve prevents air from escaping.

The more the patient breathes, the higher the pressure in the pleural cavity becomes, compressing the lung. Eventually, the lung collapses completely, unable to expand…

No matter how hard the patient tries to breathe, they can’t take in a single breath.

This is one of the most deadly emergencies. Aside from a cut in the carotid artery, or a rupture in the aorta in the chest or abdomen, internal bleeding in other organs doesn’t kill as fast.

Death by suffocation is instantaneous.

A pastor?

The War God Temple is indeed near the camp, a quick run there and back would take at most 5 minutes. However, the patient on the ground can’t wait that long!

“50ml syringe!”

Gretel shouted.

No response.

No one handed him anything. No syringe, no needle, no drainage tube…

No one knew what he wanted, no one knew why he was doing this, and no one even knew what the patient’s symptoms meant.

This is another world, not their hospital, not the emergency room he’d worked in for over a decade.

Gretel looked around. Surrounding him were worried faces, staring at the patient, gazing towards the nearby temple, hoping for the arrival of a rushing pastor. Some even started dismantling the door panel, taking shields, trying to lift the wounded towards the temple…

By the time you carry him there, he’ll be dead!

Gretel panicked. He pushed his way in front of the wounded, one arm outstretched, the other reaching forward, pulling on Knight Flynn:

“I’m a healer! I can save him! Captain, help me!”

“You can save him?”

Knight Flynn immediately stopped in his tracks. Gretel nodded vigorously:

“He’s dying! I can save him! I need things, Captain, help me!”

Knight Flynn hesitated.

Gretel had learned the Healing Technique, he had just heard about it from Captain Kalen; but no matter how much he trusted Kalen, hearing it wasn’t the same as seeing it.

Besides, the healing techniques of the War God Temple were something they had witnessed for decades.

“You…”

“Look at his face! His face is turning purple, he can’t breathe, he’s dying! I can buy him some time! Until the pastor arrives!”

His voice grew more and more urgent. Knight Flynn stopped his movements, glanced at the wounded man on the ground, then stared at Gretel.

The young man was telling the truth.

His intuition told Knight Flynn so. However, could this newly learned Healing Technique, along with the 50—50 what? — really work?

“Captain, trust him!”

Kalen squeezed through the crowd. Meanwhile, the wounded man’s struggles became more desperate, and also increasingly weak.

Knight Flynn immediately made up his mind.

“What do you need?”

“A needle! A thick, hollow needle!” Gretel answered without hesitation. It was his fault before, in this place, saying “50ml syringe” obviously wouldn’t be understood, maybe they didn’t even have the concept of milliliters. But they should understand a needle! A hollow, thick needle!

He got a wave of headshakes. Gretel didn’t give up:

“Then a thin steel tube! No? Iron? Copper? Any hard tube will do! The thickness of my little finger!”

“There, there!”

Finally, someone reacted and ran off. He returned in a moment, handing Gretel a familiar —

chicken leg bone.

Gretel: “…”

Was he fated to deal with chicken bones these days?

The key was, yesterday was the cricothyrotomy, he could use the chicken bone directly to poke it in. Today was chest decompression, no syringe, no needle, holding a chicken bone several times thicker than a needle, was he supposed to poke it into the chest?

Do you guys think I’m Superman?

Gretel roared in his heart. He needed everything, this surgery, he needed everything. Hopefully, the pastors from the temple would arrive quickly, otherwise, he wouldn’t even be able to contain the infection —

“Give me a dagger! Quick!”

Right clavicle line, second intercostal space, Gretel stabbed without hesitation. Stab… stab… couldn’t stab it in!

Were the warriors, or rather the knights, in this world, that strong?

“Someone help me!” Gretel shouted. He used his little finger to measure:

“Just… this deep! Stab it in! Pull it out, then insert the chicken leg bone in it!”

“I’ll do it!”

Knight Flynn didn’t hesitate to take the dagger.

The knife entered, the knife exited, the chicken leg bone was inserted. A huge pressure with a hissing sound, instantly sprayed out from the center of the bone.

Success!

Gretel relaxed. He knelt beside the wounded man, watching his breathing, listening to the airflow from the chicken leg bone. His thumb covered the top of the chicken leg bone, sometimes pressing down, sometimes releasing.

—After chest decompression, a one-way valve should be connected to the outside, allowing high-pressure air in the chest cavity to easily drain, while preventing outside air from entering the chest cavity. In emergency situations, senior doctors had used surgical gloves, soft plastic bags, or balloons, cutting a small hole to fit over the needle shaft, to act as a valve.

Gretel didn’t even have surgical gloves, he could only use his thumb, mastering the rhythm on the spot…

With his movements, the bulge in the wounded man’s right chest gradually subsided, and his complexion gradually improved. Anyone could see that this life had been pulled back from the jaws of death.

“He’s saved?”

“He’s saved!”

“It seems like he’s really saved!”

“I remember Old Xieke died like that, his ribs were crushed, he died in a short while. The pastor hadn’t even arrived yet…”

The surrounding warriors discussed amongst themselves. Knight Flynn’s gaze towards Gretel softened, he took the initiative to ask him:

“Little Gretel, what should we do next?”

Next? Insert a drainage tube, do a closed chest drainage, take an X-ray, realign the ribs, if you’re unlucky you need to open the chest to repair the lungs…

But now there’s nothing, I can’t do any of these things…

Gretel rolled his eyes in his heart. Alright, in the modern world, if the emergency room was too busy, it would be thrown to the thoracic surgery department; now he’s in another world, so… call a pastor?

A large and messy sound of footsteps finally came. Gretel glanced slightly, a large part of the crowd had already bowed low, everyone saluting, everyone bowing their heads:

“Bishop.”

“Bishop—”

Gretel curiously turned his head to look. As for saluting, anyway, he was already kneeling beside the wounded man, half bowed, he wouldn’t bother doing it again.

In the center of the crowd was a stout middle-aged man, broad-shouldered and stout, with a large, shiny bald head. If you ignored the Western features of his high nose and deep eyes, just this bald head, even someone would believe he was Lu Zhishen (a legendary monk in Chinese literature).

The chest of his white robe was also embroidered with a shield, but not dark brown, it was outlined with brilliant silver thread. On the shield, a warhammer and a staff crossed each other.

There were no other adornments. Only the sand-bowl sized fist was holding a staff, with a few gemstones inlaid on the top, indicating the bishop’s noble status.

Surrounding this bishop, there were seven or eight pastors, tall and short, all muscle men, looking more like warriors than clerics. The little pastor Johannes Gretel knew was also among them, the youngest, the thinnest, indeed he could only be a pastor’s apprentice.

A group of people surrounded the bishop and came to the wounded man. The bald-headed bishop took a look at the wounded man first, then a second look at Gretel and the chicken bone in his hand. After observing for a moment, he smiled slightly:

“Child, I’ve come, you and your…” he pointed at the chicken leg bone, “responsibility can end.”

Gretel smiled back. His tone was polite and respectful, yet calm, firm, and decisive:

“You heal first. When appropriate, I will pull it out.”

(End of Chapter)

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