Time attack.
In surgery, this is almost the worst term imaginable.
Sometimes in dramas, you see doctors celebrating because they finished surgery quickly…
That's utterly meaningless.
Why?
Because even if it's the same surgery, every situation is different.
Just as people's faces are different, the inside of the abdomen is also slightly different for each person, so making simple comparisons is…
"Hurry, hurry!"
I hope you understand that my actions now are in no way my usual demeanor.
"Ugh!"
"Scalpel!"
Normally, I don't do this.
And I shouldn't.
But there's no choice.
Because trust in anesthesia is at rock bottom.
If this fear were based solely on my own thoughts, I might try to take it slow…
'Lately, Brother Liston amputates about 150 limbs per month on average… and about 30 of those patients die, with over 10 of them not waking up from anesthesia.'
It's a rough statistic.
No variables are controlled.
But…
What can I do?
It's not possible.
Squeak.
I once again reaffirmed in my heart that rushing was the right choice, and at the same time, I made an incision in the abdomen with the scalpel.
It was Blundell's method.
A vertical incision.
And a fairly long one at that.
'The field of view is really good…'
Even though I was rushing, it didn't feel frantic.
I've been in the operating room for too long to act that way.
I didn't waste my time, you know.
"Pull."
"Ugh."
There are five people involved in this surgery, including me.
Alfred is handling anesthesia, and Blundell is participating as the first assistant.
So, Joseph and Colin are now pulling the incision edges on both sides.
Both are guys who, if you consider effort, are second to none, and their understanding of sterilization is even more solid than that of 21st-century doctors, so there was no difficulty in entrusting them with this task.
"Good."
The field of view was already good, but it got even better when they pulled.
Through the widely opened incision, the greatly enlarged uterus was visible.
"What should we do with this? A cross incision, as planned?"
"Yes, I think so. But since the fetus is inside, cutting it open in one go is dangerous."
"That's how we did it before."
"Well… there was no anesthesia back then."
I realize every time I perform such surgery how big a difference pain makes.
It's already tough now…
What must it have been like to open the abdomen, open the uterus, and extract the baby while the patient was struggling in pain?
I think that's why even Blundell, who seems gentle, occasionally shows glimpses of incredible madness.
Well, since circumstances are completely different now, we could open the uterus calmly.
And in a cross shape.
"I can see it."
"Wow…"
"It's the baby…"
"So tiny."
Inside the carelessly opened uterus was a baby.
A baby girl, estimated to be around 2.7 kilograms.
Except for Blundell, the rest of us, including me, were seeing this for the first time or at least were unfamiliar with it, so we let out a brief gasp.
'So this is the mystery of life…'
It wasn't all good.
In fact, I was suddenly scared.
Kid, you almost died.
This isn't just a platitude; you really were 100% going to die.
Even when people say maternal mortality rates are high during this period, I thought it was tragic, but seeing it with my own eyes was devastating.
"Hurry!"
What devastates me most is that I'm not even given time to feel these emotions.
"I'll take it from here."
"Ah, yes. Please."
Blundell pulled the baby out in my place and cut the umbilical cord.
Then, another nurse who was waiting nearby took the baby.
"Waaah!"
I was scared because it was so quiet until then, but fortunately, the baby cried loudly.
But that didn't mean I had time to look away.
Liston boasted that he'd done it a few times, but this is the first time, right?
I'd never even done it once in my previous life.
Obstetrics and gynecology…
I never once wanted to do it.
"Suture!"
"Uh, uh."
But the anatomical structure was almost entirely in my head.
Plus, I'd run many simulations.
Most importantly, I'd practiced on cadavers.
Sending a prayer of thanks to the unnamed pauper's corpse, I ligated the area near the patient's ovaries and all the blood vessels entering the uterus.
"Scissors!"
"Here!"
Then I snipped them off with scissors.
These are scissors Sophie Germain got for me, said to be German-made.
Whether then or now, our Germans' craftsmanship is definitely still there; they're much better than British ones.
They make such good products, but without colonies, they had nowhere to sell them, so they started World War I—I almost thought that.
If it sounds like I'm rambling, I am.
"Whew."
"Done."
We even removed the uterus.
To the eye, it doesn't even look like it's bleeding much.
Actually, in difficult labor, the structure that causes the most bleeding is the placenta.
But we didn't even touch the placenta; we removed the uterus along with it.
So of course, bleeding had to be minimal.
'I'm running on hopium…'
Of course, it could be bleeding somewhere else.
I miss the shadowless lamp in the operating room.
It was really bright…
Now, we're barely illuminating with gas lamps.
No wonder they sometimes did parts of the surgery out in the square!
It's dark, you can't see…
Squeak.
What's the point of worrying when you can't see?
Just close it while praying.
If I fumble around and more anesthetic gets in, causing problems, wouldn't that be a disaster?
So I prayed to the Lord while continuing the suturing.
Even though I didn't suture the uterus, since there were threads ligating the blood vessels, I couldn't stop worrying.
If anything goes wrong, the patient will die.
'Should I suggest we avoid doing this if possible…? No, but…'
After doing it just once, I feel completely drained.
It really is a risky surgery.
In the 21st century, after repeated advancements, it would be much better, but not now.
Danger factors are scattered everywhere.
It's almost like walking through a minefield—that might make it easier to understand.
"Whew."
"Wow… Professor Pyeong, you're sweating."
"This… cold sweat is pouring out. Is it that difficult? From the side, it just looked like you opened, pulled, removed, and closed."
By the time I finished, my legs were trembling.
With Colin and Joseph chattering on both sides, I feel even more drained.
It's even more frustrating because they're not entirely wrong.
Yeah, that's all it is: open, pull, remove, and close.
To be precise, open the abdomen, pull out the baby, remove the uterus, and close the abdomen.
"Ma'am, are you okay?"
Honestly, I just want to slump down right here, but I can't.
Our anesthesiologist, the epitome of a gentle doctor, Alfred, was already waking the patient.
It was the right thing to do.
Ah, not sarcastically, really.
We rushed to reduce the anesthesia time, meaning we tried to reduce the amount of anesthetic used.
In exchange, it feels like I gave away a few minutes of my lifespan to someone…
"Ugh… ugh."
"The baby came out well. Please don't worry too much."
As soon as Alfred finished speaking, a nurse showed the baby.
Since they hadn't properly cleaned off the amniotic fluid and such, it didn't look like the baby we usually imagine.
It's a bit… wrinkled, should I say?
Actually, now that I think about it, when I first saw the baby, I thought of The Curious Case of Benjamin Button.
It has the face of an old man, that.
"She's a pretty baby girl."
"Ah, ah… Thank you! She's really pretty."
But to the mother, she apparently didn't look that way.
Actually, the mother hadn't received proper care and had only suffered, plus she just had surgery, so her appearance was far from ideal.
Nevertheless, seeing her bright smile while looking at her baby…
For now, I felt that losing a few minutes of my lifespan wasn't so bad.
"Thank you so much! To think there was such a skilled doctor in London… I dared to!"
The father was also overjoyed.
He was almost bouncing around.
It was only natural.
I heard that after we went into surgery, the midwives and other obstetricians explained the current situation, called breech or inverted birth.
They probably meant that even if problems arose, it was unavoidable, so don't think about doing anything.
It might seem too bleak, but 19th-century London is all like this.
Someone died?
It can't be helped.
This is the routine.
"Waaa, my baby is alive! My wife is aliiiiive!"
Even people who live resigned to fate can be that happy when their family is brought back to life.
Watching that, my heart grew warmer and warmer.
During the surgery, I just wanted to hand everything over to Blundell quickly and do something else…
"Good. My patients just stare blankly at their amputated legs or arms."
"Ah."
Now I see Liston seems to feel similarly.
No, probably his feelings are much more complex than mine.
Isn't it true that Liston's hair has been thinning lately?
Actually, in 19th-century London, if you're over thirty and not a bachelor, what should we call this?
He really needs to get married soon.
Otherwise, people might not see him as someone with standards but as a guy with problems.
-It's a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife.
Moreover, Liston has quite a bit of wealth now, doesn't he?
The first line of Pride and Prejudice didn't pop into my head for no reason.
"I'm jealous. I should get married soon too."
"Y-yes, right."
"Stop looking at my hair. Should I make you the same?"
"Ah, no. Please spare me."
"Anyway, ah. That's right."
"What is it?"
As if he had the same thought, Liston clapped his hands and looked at me.
"By Korean standards, aren't you an old bachelor too?"
"Huh? Ah, well."
That's right.
Korea was a country where early marriage was prevalent.
The country of Neo-Confucianism, where heirs are paramount…
Huh?
"How did you know that?"
"Ah, well, there are ways to know. It's your country, not someone else's; shouldn't I study?"
No, don't study…
Don't try to know…
You'll all die if you do.
"So, about that. What are you going to do about the party?"
"Party?"
"The anatomy party, of course."
"Ah, that. Are we really doing that?"
"We have to. How eagerly everyone is looking forward to it."
"Hmm."
Fortunately, the topic changed, but that doesn't mean it's filled with hope.
An anatomy party…
Well…
I heard that if there's no anatomy show during the festival, rumors spread that our nobility is incompetent, so it's not unreasonable.
At least in the 19th century, anatomy is a kind of sport. Sport.
"If we do well, we'll become incredibly popular."
"Oh…?"
I'm a pro athlete.
Sports stars have always been popular, haven't they?
Thinking that, the future seemed bright, but as always in London, you can't predict even an inch ahead, as I found out the very next day.
"Sir Jamie…?"
"My daughter-in-law is in labor, and I heard you're very skilled."
"No, I'm not really obstetrics and gynecology…"
"Don't joke. If I had known about you earlier, this wouldn't have happened, right?"
Sir Jamie had come.
He was so distraught he hadn't even put on his fake beard.
Seeing him like that, my heart softened.
"Besides, it's not a normal situation. Labor started a long time ago… but there's still no sign."
Well…
When a guy with no balls asks, don't I have to go?
"I understand."
Plus, he's a high noble, this man.
Doing him a favor will help in many ways, that's what it means.