It can’t be that hard to open a hospital in another world, right? 45
by adminChapter 45 You Think Treating a Hand Is Just Cutting and Sewing?
2024-05-31 Author: Garan2020
Chapter 45 You Think Treating a Hand Is Just Cutting and Sewing?
This gaze was all too familiar. Patients, family members, regardless of gender, age, or social status, countless people had looked at him this way. Grett instinctively wanted to answer “I can treat it,” but the words that came out of his mouth were:
“There’s a possibility of a cure.”
Having stated the conclusion, Grett immediately leaned back. Even though he was sitting on a broken-legged chair against the wall, there was nowhere to retreat, but he still managed to squeeze himself further into the corner.
In his previous life, the phrase “possible” was often met with dissatisfaction from patients and family members, and they would inevitably delve into a root-and-branch inquiry. What exactly was the likelihood of a cure, how long would it take, how much would it cost…
Ultimately, they would often end up complaining about the doctor’s refusal to give a definitive answer. Then, if they happened to encounter a doctor with a bad temper, another round of complaints would ensue.
Even if these knightly gentlemen were good-tempered, not causing trouble, and just picked him up and shook him, he wouldn’t be able to stand it!
Grett cautiously looked at the people opposite him. To his surprise, after a moment of stunned silence, Sir Flynn and Sir Siro were overjoyed. One of them extended an arm and placed it on Sir Baron’s shoulder, shaking him back and forth vigorously:
“It can be treated! It can be treated!”
“Old Baron, did you hear that? It can be treated!”
“You’ve consulted so many people… so many… for three years, three years, you know…”
The two middle-aged men were shouting with unrestrained emotion. Their voices gradually became low and hoarse, sounding almost like wolf howls in the darkness.
Sir Baron sat motionless in his chair like a puppet, completely unresponsive to their shaking. After a while, he suddenly jerked, stood up, shook off the two of them, and bowed slightly to Grett:
“Then please treat him quickly!”
“Yes, yes, quickly!”
Sir Flynn and Sir Siro immediately regained their composure. The three of them formed a semicircle, leaning forward, their gazes fixed on Grett from above, as if they were about to devour him. Under their intense scrutiny, Grett shrunk back a little further:
“It’s not possible right now…”
“Why not? Didn’t you say it could be treated?” Sir Baron’s voice immediately rose an octave. Grett looked at Sir Flynn for help, softly protesting:
“I can’t treat it now… I still need some things…”
His figure was drowned out by the clamor both inside and outside the room. Sir Baron, Sir Flynn, and Sir Siro, each one vying to speak. The bald-headed Bishop’s voice was the loudest:
“Little Grett, are you really sure you can treat this injury? What are you lacking? – Is it a lack of spellcasting materials? If your Healing Technique isn’t strong enough, tell me how to treat it, I’ll do it!”
An expectant look once again fell upon Grett.
Seeing that no one was causing trouble or complaining, Grett calmed down. He took a step forward, looked into the bald-headed Bishop’s eyes, and answered in a clear voice:
“I have a 70% chance of just healing it. But, if you want to ensure that his wrist is flexible, can exert force, and won’t be injured in other places, I need to see if my tools are up to the task before I can tell you how much chance I have.”
“Can’t you treat it now?”
Both the bald-headed Bishop and Sir Baron were somewhat disappointed. Grett pondered for a moment, grabbed Sir Baron’s arm, and explained to him with gestures:
“It’s like this. There are many tendons in your arm, each one relying on tendons – what you call sinews – to connect to the bone. I estimate that the sinew that broke in your arm is the flexor carpi radialis – from here, to here,”
He moved his fingers back and forth along Sir Baron’s arm, pressing down near the elbow crease, sliding down, and then pressing down on the base of the palm. Then, along the scar on his right wrist, he made a horizontal swipe:
“That’s where it broke. The tendons are very strong, they pull your muscles very tightly, and when the tendon breaks, the entire muscle contracts. What I need to do now is cut open the skin, pull the contracted muscle out, lengthen it to its original position, and then let the tendon heal.”
He tried to explain it as simply as possible. But as soon as he finished speaking, Sir Baron immediately stood up and shouted:
“Then what are you waiting for? Treat him!”
Clang! A dagger landed on the table, its blade glinting.
Grett: “…”
I need forceps! I need hemostats! I need hooks! This surgery might even need to be performed under a microscope, without a microscope, give me a magnifying glass at least!
He choked on a breath, unable to swallow it down. Before he could recover, the bald-headed Bishop was already asking:
“I’ve treated it this way before. But it didn’t heal well!”
He’s done this before?
Grett looked at him with new respect. Boss, you’re brave! How many years of medical studies have you done? Have you dissected a few cadavers? Do you know how to cut without severing blood vessels, how to cut without severing nerves?
Well… how do I explain it?
Grett pulled out paper and pen, scribbling on the table. Moments later, the ulna, radius, and metacarpals were clearly visible, the dozen or so muscles attached to the bones were clearly delineated, and a diagram of the forearm muscles and bones had appeared on the paper.
He used to do this kind of work in his previous life, he couldn’t be as lifelike, but simple and clear was the norm. One person drawing, four heads gathered to look, the bald-headed Bishop found the oil lamp too dim and casually cast a “Light” spell, illuminating the entire room.
Grett: …Your head is already bright enough.
It didn’t take even two minutes, and the diagram was complete. Grett muttered to himself, “Everyone who hasn’t studied medicine is like this,” and slowed down his voice, beginning to explain:
“See? On this arm, there’s one, two, three, four, five… I won’t count, you count yourself; besides the muscles, there are also blood vessels, there are nerves…
I’ll explain nerves to you later! Anyway, any of these things, if they get damaged, your arm won’t work properly. You think it’s just cutting it open, pulling it out, and healing it? ”
The bald-headed Bishop nodded vigorously. Grett turned to Sir Baron, furious:
“What’s the point of just a knife? What do you think this is? You killing a pig? Slaughtering a sheep? Just cut here, put your hand in, pull out the tendon, and sew it up? I’m just asking, will it hurt to cut your wrist? Will it move?”
“We’ll hold him down!” Sir Flynn and Sir Siro answered in unison. Grett scoffed. What’s the use of holding him down, this is tendon surgery, you think it’s scraping the bones to cure poison?
“I can hold still!” Sir Baron roared. Grett roared back:
“What’s the use of you holding still! If you hold still, will your arm tighten up? If it’s tightened up like this, I won’t be able to pull the muscle at all! You, you, you,”
He pointed his finger at each one of them, Sir Flynn, Sir Baron, and Sir Siro on the outermost side. A few days ago, while doing chest decompression on Sir Siro, he didn’t even manage to get the knife into his chest, and he had to rely on Sir Flynn next to him:
“Each one of you is a knight, I! I’ll stab you! I can’t even stab you!”
Sir Baron was speechless with anger. Just then, a flash of white light caught his eye, Grett turned his head and saw the bald-headed Bishop moving like lightning, grabbing the diagram he had drawn, stuffing it into his pocket…
When he saw Grett looking at him, he actually winked at him, and with a blatant grin, he laughed, “Hee hee hee.”
(End of Chapter)
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