The Crown Prince That Sells Medicine

The Crown Prince That Sells Medicine Chapter 119

Episode 119 Birth of a Saint (1)

“What are you doing to my bonus life?”

A voice that has calmed down violently.

Rakiel glanced inside the tent with cold, downcast eyes. The scene inside was truly gruesome. The soldier was unconscious with blood dripping from his forearm. He was a soldier who had undergone leg surgery earlier during the day.

And next to it…

“What? I’m currently undergoing treatment. What does it matter to you?”

Chandre responded without averting his eyes. I saw a knife in the guy’s hand. A bucket was also seen propped up under the soldier’s arm. The bucket was already soaked with blood.

I realized it as soon as I saw it.

‘no way. Phlebotomy therapy?’

A name that suddenly comes to mind. I remembered something I once read in a book on the history of modern medicine.

It wasn’t a very old history.

The 18th century, only about 200 to 300 years ago. At that time, there was a widespread belief that draining dirty blood from the body would make a person healthy. Did you say that even doctors had that belief?

‘In particular, was it John Brown, a doctor in Edinburgh, Scotland? The author argued for the Brunonian System theory, which states that life depends on continuous physical stimulation. So, when a disease occurs, it is believed that the more contaminated blood is forcibly extracted from the body, the greater the stimulation, and the more the body recovers.’

…It was a crazy theory.

It was a ridiculous claim.

But he said it was popular at the time. Even François Victor Brusse, who served in Napoleon’s army and was promoted to surgeon, developed the theory even further. Leeches were actively introduced into bloodletting therapy.

‘The doctor believed that all diseases originate in the gastrointestinal tract. So no matter which patient came, I always starved them first. They made me fast and put leeches all over my body. In severe cases, up to 50 at a time.’

It was thought that if a person starved like that and sucked all the blood, he would get better. Of course, many patients died because of that mistaken belief. But the doctors at the time did not reflect. Even if a patient died after bloodletting treatment, the cause was not properly investigated.

‘It’s just that… he did his best to administer the most effective treatment, but the patient couldn’t endure it, so he dismissed it as bad luck and died.’

It was from 1820 to 1845 that Brucet’s leech therapy received enthusiastic support as the latest(?) medical technology. It was only about 200 years ago from the cutting-edge 21st century!

It was a time when the weak literally could not survive. But I never thought I would see something like that here. Even so, I had no idea that I would see such a confident reaction.

“Why are you not answering? I am also a military doctor. So, we are treating wounded soldiers in the middle of the night, despite our fatigue. But what right do you have to interfere with my treatment?”

Chandre’s voice grew louder and pierced my eardrums. Rakiel came out of his thoughts. A feeling of anger creeps in. The back of my neck suddenly became stiff.

He questioned Chandre in a cool, subdued voice.

“Healing wounded soldiers despite fatigue? now? “What is that?”

“…What are you doing?”

“okay. What are you doing there now?

“Don’t you know it when you see it? “They were drawing blood.”

“Why the blood?”

“Because that’s how you become healthy!”

“….”

“Look. Hasn’t the soldier lost his mind just now? As the dirty blood is drained, it is proof that the body is fighting hard. So, as long as we overcome this, this soldier will soon…

die.”

“…what?”

Chandr frowned. Rachiel’s cool advice continued.

“When you say something nice, stop the bleeding right away. “Before that soldier really dies.”

“What are you saying…”

“Get out of my way.”

I can’t see you anymore.

Even during the meaningless scuffle, the soldier’s forearm continued to bleed. If left like this, he may die from excessive bleeding. Maybe it’s already too late.

Rakiel couldn’t bear it any longer.

‘If I keep doing this, I’ll catch someone alive.’

He was a soldier with a bright future, barely 20 years old. The patient happened to have received appropriate treatment and was well into recovery. But I couldn’t watch such a life being taken away so absurdly before my eyes.

He took a long stride. Chandr was pushed away. I picked up a thick piece of cloth from the guy’s medical kit. He pressed the soldier’s forearm tightly. The piece of cloth quickly turned dark red.

“What are you doing now?”

An excited Chandre shouted from the side.

“Treatment was going smoothly. But why are you doing this? Is this okay? “No matter how successful the camp doctor may be, this is too rude!”

“….”

“Are you trying to suppress your competitors like this? Rude and rude again. It’s cowardly and unfair. “I must hear why you have the right to stop someone else’s treatment!”

“….”

“Why is there no answer? Now that you’ve heard the protests, have you run out of things to say? If so, get out of the way right now! We can’t just stop treatment like this. “Now is the moment when the patient is about to enter a critical juncture!”

“A critical juncture? therapy? “You weren’t trying to kill a normal person?”

“What do you mean!”

“What are you talking about? That’s a sound that hits the nail on the head. Look at this soldier’s condition right now. Does this look like someone on the mend?”

“Of course…”

“I’m dying. Due to excessive bleeding. “Thanks to them for freely extracting healthy blood.”

“….”

Only then did Chandre’s mouth close. Rachiel’s harsh criticism continued.

“Let me be a little more honest. What were you doing until I got here? I saw it. I was hitting this soldier in the face. is not it?”

“That’s…”

“Get up. Please open your eyes. I panicked and panicked. “I could hear everything.”

“….”

“Even if you say it’s not true, you must have felt it too. Something is wrong with this soldier. But you can’t admit it? “Can you never admit that the patient is dying before your eyes because of the wrong treatment?”

At the end of Rakiel’s words, I felt angry. As I spoke, I truly became angrier. It wasn’t just because of the bonus life. It was because of Chandre’s attitude.

“Guys like you are always the problem. The patient’s condition may be misdiagnosed. You may choose the wrong treatment. I understand up to that point. Because we are people. Because doctors are human too. Because you can make as many mistakes as you want. But why can’t he admit the mistakes he made? “Why do you keep turning away until the end?”

“….”

“Are you afraid that if you admit it, you will become a less-than-worthy person? Is there a blemish on your good reputation? Or are you afraid that responsibility will be overwritten? Or is it because dead patients can’t protest anyway? Is that really true?”

“Look, you’re talking too much…”

“That’s harsh? That sounds funny. Considering what you have done now, what I am saying cannot even be included in the category of verbal abuse. No, I would feel better if I was punished rather than verbally abused. In my opinion, I want to disqualify him and throw him in prison right away. So just a word of advice.”

“Uh…”

“If you don’t want to get beaten to death right here, keep your mouth shut.”

“….”

Chandre closed his mouth. It had to be that way. This was because he sensed that sincerity was reflected in the eyes of the person looking at him.

‘It’s no joke.’

It was a truly murderous look.

Moreover, there was nothing wrong with anything he said with those eyes. It hit the nail on the head with such precision. It was all true. Because the soldier actually felt that something was wrong. Because my heart was pounding.

I couldn’t really refute it. The same feeling was felt by other military doctors who arrived here in the meantime.

“….”

Most of them were believers in bloodletting therapy. They were convinced that the best recovery method was to extract as much blood as possible from the patient’s body. Naturally, the treatment was performed on countless people, and many patients died from excessive bleeding.

But I have never reflected on it until now. I couldn’t help it. It’s because the patient couldn’t endure it. He said he did nothing wrong. I just thought of it that way.

But after listening to that fat military doctor just now, I had a slightly different thought. I thought maybe I was wrong all along. Of course, I also felt resistance. That can’t be happening. There’s no way he was wrong.

“….”

Between two conflicting thoughts, the military doctors fell silent. What will the author do? After harshly criticizing our bloodletting therapy, how can we save that soldier?

On the one hand, I feel excited. On the other hand, it is a desire to see people fail. Chandre and the military doctors observed Rachiel’s response.

“Damian? Sir Gardin? “I’m here at the right time.”

Rakiel’s expression relaxed when he saw the two people who heard the commotion and came running. He instructed quickly.

“Damian, bring a blanket. Make it as thick as possible. Cover this soldier’s body here. And please lift your legs.”

“You mean the legs?”

“So that the remaining blood in the body can stay in the major organs and head as much as possible.”

“All right.”

Damian followed instructions. Rachiel’s gaze turned to Sir Gardin.

“The vein was cut. Let’s suture it.”

“All right.”

Lord Gardin began to fiddle with the suture tool. Meanwhile, Rakiel wrapped a tourniquet around the soldier’s forearm. On the one hand, the soldier’s condition was carefully diagnosed.

‘Jinmaek.’

Ding dong!

[Begin taking the pulse.]

[Scanning.]

[3… 2… 1…]

[The pulse results have been received.]

[Please check the

below.]

The results of the checkup appear quickly . . Rachiel’s eyes were directed to the bottom of the results table. There, a comprehensive opinion indicating the soldier’s condition appeared.

[Comprehensive opinion: Currently in a state of excessive bleeding. Approximately 30% of the body’s blood volume has been lost, and the patient has lost consciousness due to decreased oxygen supply to the cerebrum. Symptoms of dangerously low blood pressure, cold extremities, peripheral circulatory failure, and shock are detected. A blood transfusion is needed as quickly as possible.]

‘…It’s a mess.’

Rachiel’s eyebrows furrowed. The soldier’s condition was much more serious than expected. It was a total mess. However, it was even more depressing that there was no immediate solution.

‘I need a blood transfusion.’

But there was no way to perform a blood transfusion. An appropriate needle to puncture the soldier’s blood vessel, a tube to transfer the blood, and an anticoagulant to prevent the blood from hardening during a blood transfusion. Because there is nothing else.

‘Should I just stop the bleeding and end the treatment like this? Should I just pray that he survives?’

Realistically, that was the only way that came to mind. But I didn’t want to do that.

What if we leave it like this?

It didn’t seem like the situation would improve. Because it’s already a dangerous situation. In the end, I felt like I would most likely die. I didn’t want to leave it like that. I had to do something. Either for your own bonus life. For the soldier’s survival.

‘If you die because of the stubbornness of a bastard who only believes in the wrong treatment, it will be a dog’s death.’

I hated that the most.

I wanted to save it somehow.

Rachiel thought intensely.

A situation in which a blood transfusion is absolutely necessary. There is no needle or tube. So what can you do in this situation where even direct blood vessel-to-blood transfusion is impossible? Is there no way.

‘Think about it. please. think.’

I bit my lip nervously. But is it because I bitten too much without realizing it? Blood was flowing from the lower lip. At that moment, he was unconsciously startled.

And then I remembered.

‘…there is.’

A thought suddenly flashed in my mind. Idea. Or a miracle cure. A method that only you can execute.

The moment I remembered that.

chin!

Rachiel picked up the surgical knife. Without any hesitation, he drew the veins on the back of his hand.

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