"Do you really think that makes sense right now...?"
It seemed like not everything was being accepted.
Well, even I think I might have crossed a line this time.
Joseon isn't some fantasy kingdom where extraordinary things happen every time something occurs.
"But... if it's a country that can produce someone like you... I suppose it's possible."
"Oh."
"Oh?"
Wait...
It actually worked.
If they suggest going to Joseon later, I'll have to run away.
- Among our officers, those injured by blunt weapons are bandaged instead of being stitched up to stop the bleeding. Do you know why? Is it because they can't suture? No! It's because there's a belief that closing a wound inflicted by a weapon covered in someone else's blood and flesh will curse the wound, causing it to rot. It's not exactly a curse, but... it's true that it's better to avoid it.
The image of Joseon in their minds right now...
How should I describe it?
Not a hermit kingdom, but perhaps a land of medicine?
Like Hippocrates or Galen working in the fields...
In reality, at this point in time, Joseon is no different from a Confucian Taliban, so if we went there together, I might end up beheaded.
Whether by Liston's hand or the local magistrates...
"No, no. I'm not sure if it's right to equate blunt weapons with dogs, but it's better to be cautious."
"That may be true, but... isn't it clear that it's infected? Look closely. Isn't there a bit of bleeding?"
"Do you think someone would die from that much bleeding?"
Anyway, the persuasion worked, and Emily Brontë was finally able to escape the pressure of the cautery iron.
Of course, Liston and our proud 19th-century doctors were still salivating over Emily's wound.
There was a bit of bleeding, after all.
From a medical perspective, it would be right to stop that bleeding.
If we had something like a fine-tipped cautery iron or micro forceps... it might be possible later.
But these are the same people who bleed patients at the slightest headache, and now they're talking like this.
For now, I decided to leave it alone.
"And the more important question is whether what was on the dog's teeth was less harmful than what was on the corpse."
"Ah... that's a valid point."
"According to records, many of those who died from dog bites didn't actually die from rabies symptoms, right?"
"Huh? What do you mean by that?"
Liston looked at me with a puzzled expression.
I made a slight mistake.
My statement assumed that the other person was knowledgeable about rabies.
Knowledgeable? Really?
As far as I could tell, if Liston had any area of expertise, it was probably limited to limb anatomy.
"Ah... well, when someone contracts rabies, they experience excessive salivation, fever, and hydrophobia, right?"
"Ah... yes. That's why it's also called hydrophobia."
Hydrophobia doesn't mean they're afraid of stagnant water.
It's because when they try to drink water due to thirst, spasms in the larynx and diaphragm cause excruciating pain.
After experiencing that once, they start having seizures at the sight of water. However, medical knowledge and records from this time are incomplete, so such details often get distorted in transmission.
In any case, it's a fairly distinctive symptom, so medical professionals should be aware of it.
Of course, if it progresses to that point...
'Even in the 21st century, there's not much we can do.'
It's a terrifying disease, almost incurable.
But during this period, the majority of patients who died from dog bites didn't die from rabies but from the bite wounds themselves.
"However, according to records, many of those patients only exhibited fever as a symptom."
"Hmm... whose records are these?"
"Zemel or the professor... anyway, the emergency room records here."
There wasn't much in the way of records.
The SOAP format I used in the hospital was nowhere to be found, and there was no standardized format.
Each doctor just wrote whatever they wanted at the time.
Some wrote, some didn't, so the records were far from complete.
I almost died yesterday trying to dig through them.
"Ah..."
"Looking at them, the most prominent symptom is swelling around the bite area. Probably around here..."
They couldn't call infection an infection...
They couldn't call bacteria bacteria... so I'll leave the hospital now...
"Something bad must have entered around the bite area, causing these symptoms."
"Isn't that what causes rabies too?"
"Ah."
Should I just explode?
But then I remembered...
This was a time when even the existence of bacteria, let alone viruses, was unknown, so my anger subsided a bit.
"That could be true. But isn't it also possible that it's something else? Couldn't there be different types of bad things?"
"You really jump to conclusions too easily. First, we haven't even proven the existence of bad things... Frankly, the miasma theory is the most popular right now."
"Ah... yes. If that makes sense..."
"Handwashing has shown some effectiveness, so it's possible. But different types? Haha."
Liston chuckled at my words and then opened the door at the end of the hallway.
"That kind of thinking... must be the source of your brilliance. I support you."
It seemed like he still thought it was nonsense.
But that was fine.
He wasn't stopping me, after all.
Look, he even arranged a place for Emily to stay.
"Here...?"
Emily, who hadn't flinched in front of the cautery iron, remained silent.
So it was her sister who spoke.
Jane Eyre—no, Charlotte Brontë.
"The other wards are a bit... in bad shape. This is the professor's research lab, but we've brought in a bed to use as a patient room."
I quickly pointed to the bed, gesturing to the nervous girl while indicating the portraits of past Listons on the wall.
To be honest, the bed here was in much better condition than the others.
At least I changed the bedding daily...
That alone made a huge difference.
Of course, it wasn't exactly spotless since we've had all sorts of patients here, but compared to the general wards where sheets were stained with blood, pus, and feces, this was practically a VIP room.
"Ah... I see. But we don't have much money..."
"Money? Don't worry. I'm just checking on her while I'm here. It's fine, right, Professor?"
"Huh? Yes. Strictly speaking, you're not a doctor yet."
"Won't that make them anxious?"
"But I'll say you're better than most doctors. It's true, isn't it?"
They didn't seem as grateful as I'd hoped, but...
At least they weren't running away.
In any case, I had no intention of taking money.
I'm living off Alfred's generosity, so what money?
Besides, once condoms are released, I'll at least be able to support myself, if not become wealthy.
More importantly, these two are future literary giants.
If anything, I should consider it an honor to help them.
"So, since we're treating her, please take good care of her. You can call me Dr. Pyeong."
"Thank you."
"Thank you."
After formally introducing myself, I examined the wound again.
I was debating whether to bandage it or not.
Why the hesitation?
Bandages in this era were truly horrifying.
If you wanted to apply pressure, you had to wrap it so tightly that blood circulation was cut off, and when you removed it, it often tore the wound apart.
There weren't even proper bandages to begin with.
In this magical 19th-century world, any piece of cloth could become a bandage.
'It's better not to.'
Unless the bleeding was severe, it was better to leave it alone.
Fortunately, young Emily's nutritional state, while not excellent, wasn't deficient, so the bleeding had stopped.
At least the dog hadn't bitten her too badly.
As I nodded to myself, Charlotte spoke up.
"I hit it with a frying pan. That's why it let go."
"Ah, I see. But how did she get bitten?"
Right.
A frying pan.
In a way, Charlotte might have saved Emily more than I did.
Medical care in this era is even worse than I thought.
"I was trying to feed it. I was taught to be kind to animals."
"Ah... I see."
I thought they were orphans since only the sister came...
But that didn't seem to be the case.
Or was it?
As I tilted my head in confusion, the door creaked open, and an elderly man entered.
"My daughter... was bitten by a dog..."
"Ah, are you her father?"
"Yes, but you are..."
He froze as soon as he saw my face.
It was a miracle he didn't call me a yellow monkey to my face.
It's that kind of era.
So I'm fine with it...
"Ahem! This is Dr. Pyeong, my closest friend, Dr. Liston's brother, and a renowned physician!"
"He's a prodigy who makes me ashamed to call him my junior!"
Joseph and Alfred both started singing my praises.
They must have felt bad about not being able to say anything to the doctor earlier.
One's my best friend, and the other's the man who saved my life twice, so it's understandable.
"No, what did I even do..."
"Hello, I'm Liston. She was bitten by a rabid dog. She seems fine now, but there's a risk she could become critically ill, so I've decided to monitor her separately in my research lab."
"Ah... Dr. Liston... no, that's... Please... save her."
"That's what we're trying to do. Dr. Pyeong here is young but very skilled, so don't worry too much. He's especially good with rabies."
"Uh..."
Anyway, Emily's father seemed quite sensitive.
It's natural for parents to react this way when their child is sick, but...
His hands were trembling more than usual.
"Your father must really love you."
I asked after he left, since there's no waiting room for guardians, and the answer made me a bit sad.
"Yes... actually, my mother and two older sisters passed away early. He worries a lot when I'm sick."
"Ah."
Three already.
It was just a casual remark, but somehow my shoulders felt heavier.
I was already planning to do my best, but now I really felt like I had to take care of Emily as if my life depended on it.