Ice Vapor Goddess

Chapter 81 Surgery
As you ascend the elevator, bright and cheerful light gradually comes into view.

The marble floor was so shiny it reflected people's images, the roof was high, and the cold wind blew into the room, invigorating the spirit.

Since being startled by that doctor who talked about miasma last time, Xilun had briefly looked up some information.

Hospitals in this era are undergoing a transformation from traditional Western medicine to modern medicine—although the theory of microbiology has been proposed, few people have accepted it, and it will take a long time for it to spread slowly into the medical field.

The current explanation for infections, suppuration, and transmission is still the old-fashioned "miasma theory," which believes that these are all caused by "miasma."

This design of high-rise narrow corridors is a concrete manifestation of the miasma theory—people believe that ventilation is the best way to dispel miasma, so hospitals must be built on the ground level, and even if it is minus thirty degrees Celsius outside, a window must still be opened.

Xilun came up from the warm living area and almost froze to death.

I shivered for a while wrapped in my coat before feeling a bit better, and then I saw that there weren't even any doctors or nurses on duty in the hospital lobby.

Everyone was bustling around when a nurse rushed over, pushing a cart full of blood-stained scissors and forceps, nearly hitting Xiren.

"Sorry!" the nurse shouted, then disappeared down the corridor, disappearing into some unknown room.

Xilun shook his head helplessly and casually walked into a hospital room.

Inside stood a well-dressed gentleman, holding a bloodstained bone saw, shouting, "Severe frostbite! Surgery is needed! Nurse! Where's the nurse? Amputation for bed number seven!"

Lying on the bed was a woman with a terrified expression. Her bare left leg was clearly covered in bluish-black discoloration and extremely swollen, indicating the presence of blood blisters.

There was slightly cold water and a towel next to the hospital bed. The doctor tried his best to slowly warm her legs, but it was too late. Her left leg had already become completely necrotic.

The nurses were clearly very busy, and it took a long time before someone came running over: "There will be an operating room available in fifteen minutes!"

The doctor seemed a little anxious and muttered under his breath, "Alright, move her over there first, I'll go check on bed number eight."

When he turned around, he finally saw Xilun, who had entered at some point.

"Uh...Bishop?" He seemed somewhat surprised. "Do you need any help?"

“Oh no, I just came to see if there’s anything I can help with,” Siren said.

A hint of relief appeared in the doctor's eyes: "Of course, there are too many to list—you can go to the operating room and wait there; I think they'll need you."

Then he turned his head and saw the nurses clumsily moving the wounded, and his brows furrowed tightly: "Be careful! Don't hurt the patients!"

"Ah! I understand! I'm so sorry!" The nurse was startled and almost lost her balance.

Xilun glanced at them.

This era had not yet experienced Nightingale's nursing reforms, so all the nurses working here were untrained and their work was rather rough. Older nurses were more experienced, but new nurses were just low-income women working there.

"Do you need my help?" Siren asked.

The nurse glanced at the doctor furtively, then nodded quickly: "If it's convenient for you."

Xilun helped lift the patient onto a portable bed. Although he was not as strong as before, he was no longer as frail and was at least on par with the average person.

The nurse quickly pulled the hospital bed out and gave Xilen directions.

"I'm sorry you had to see this," she said softly. "I had a lot of work today, I'm so tired."

"You've worked hard," Siren smiled. "You're doing something very noble." The nurse was taken aback, clearly not expecting the bishop to say such a thing. She was just a nurse on her second day of work; the word "noble" seemed very distant to her.

“Saving lives is a great work in itself,” Celen said with a smile. “Life is a gift from God, and you have saved countless such gifts. You should be proud.”

The nurse blushed and even pushed the hospital bed so hard it wobbled.

For a moment, her heart was pounding incredibly fast, and her mind went completely blank.

However, at this time, Xilun was thinking about whether to build a nursing school, since professionally trained nurses are still very necessary, and perhaps aseptic procedures could be promoted at the same time...

He's been having a headache ever since the miasma incident.

Although hundreds of years ago all doctors were monks, now doctors and the church have little to do with each other. These doctors, who have titles of professor or nobleman, are completely unaffected by the church. Even in church-affiliated hospitals, they are merely employees who do what they are paid to do.

His open support for the microbial theory is likely to provoke strong opposition from hospitals, and his current power is not yet stable, making it impossible for him to forcefully implement it.

With completely different thoughts in mind, the two quickly arrived at the operating room.

This place was very different from the operating room Xilun had imagined. When he followed the nurse in, he thought he had entered a large theater.

This is a huge circular area with a glass skylight on top, through which steam pipes run to melt the snow.

The surrounding area was a tiered seating area, where many people were already seated, observing the scene before them as if they were watching a performance or opera.

In the center of the amphitheater was a small wooden operating table—the amputation surgery was nearing its end, the floor was covered in blood and bone fragments, and the doctor was panting heavily as he used a bone saw to cut off the last bit of bone at the joint.

Blood splattered on his clothes and dripped down the drainage channel of the operating table into a bucket on the ground, resembling a slaughterhouse.

Finally, he loosened the tourniquet, treated several still-bleeding blood vessels, and then sutured the skin flap to the broken bone.

In an instant, countless rounds of applause erupted from the tiered seating, as the medical students watching paid tribute to this perfect art and performance.

Xilun was a little uncomfortable with performing surgery in public, but he still went over and asked, "Do you need my help?"

The doctor glanced at him, somewhat surprised: "Ah, of course, it would be good if his leg could be treated; it would heal faster."

As Siron chanted his prayers, the Healing Power descended upon the patient. Tiny wounds healed little by little, and the skin flaps slowly closed on their own. What would normally take months to heal was completed almost instantly.

"That's amazing!" several medical students whispered. "I remember receiving treatment at a church before, and after that priest's healing rites, even the small cut on my finger hadn't healed..."

Another person whispered, "The bishop is definitely more powerful, so keep your voice down, or Professor Gaunt might get angry..."

However, some unexpected things happened on the operating table. The Holy Healing not only cured the patient's body, but also woke up the patient who was under anesthesia.

The toxic chloroform in the body was completely expelled by the holy healing, and the patient who then woke up immediately felt a sharp pain that seemed to come from the very soul.

"Aaaaaaahhhhhh!!!" The screams instantly echoed throughout the operating room.

Xilun awkwardly added another "Pain Relief" to calm the patient down.

However, after this little incident, Dr. Gunter, who was initially somewhat dissatisfied, smiled more and joked with Siron in a low voice, "If you come to work at the hospital, we probably won't have any food to eat."

Siren was still feeling sorry for the patient and secretly remembered that next time she should first soothe the pain, then use Holy Healing to heal and awaken the patient, so she remained noncommittal about Gaunt's words.

(End of this chapter)