I Became a Plague Doctor in a Romance Fantasy Novel

Episode 7. Reporting to the Ward (2)

Episode 7. Reporting to the Ward (2)

“I heard you opened the clinic, so I came to take a look. Dr. Asterix. Do you like the academy? I heard you’re working hard on something.”

It was a bit of a struggle.

“Of course. With the opportunity given by the princess, I will rewrite the medical history of the empire.”

“Well… give it your best shot. I can’t tell if you’re arrogant or humble.”

The princess muttered.

“I’m just being honest. I might seem humble in areas where I’m lacking, and arrogant in areas where I’m excellent.”

“You talk a lot. Let’s go with arrogant.”

Anyway, the consultation begins.

“Let me do a stethoscope check.”

Asthma is not an easy disease to cure completely. The princess’s symptoms have improved a lot, and she looks fine because she’s a superhuman, but if you put the stethoscope on, you can find problems.

You can still hear wheezing when you listen to the princess’s lungs. Simply put, it’s the sound made when air is obstructed as it leaves the lungs.

“Have you gotten better?”

“No. It doesn’t seem much different from the last time I saw you. Although, compared to the first time, there’s been tremendous progress.”

“It seems the healer’s skills are the problem.”

“It appears so.”

“You are dismissed.”

“That’s unfortunate.”

I pondered for a moment, then placed a medicine bottle on the desk. It’s the same medication as before. A long-acting bronchodilator.

“Is it the same as the one used last time?”

“Yes.”

“Is there no need to increase the dosage?”

“Do you get short of breath during normal activities or exercise?”

“Not really.”

“Then there’s no benefit in changing it.”

I shook my head.

There is something a bit regrettable. It would be nice to have a means to measure lung capacity or breathing volume, but there was no way to obtain such equipment in the royal palace.

“Ah. You can gauge the severity of asthma by the amount of air moving during breathing. Shall I make the necessary equipment?”

Do you know if there might be a machine in the Alchemy Department’s laboratory that measures the volume of gases? Come to think of it, there probably is.

“Give it a try.”

“Sure.”

I bowed my head to the princess.

“Come again next time.”

“When?”

“Maybe next month? Come back when you run out of medicine. And come immediately if you feel unwell.”

“Will do.”

Princess Mint left the consultation room like that. It was only after Mint left the room that Istina relaxed from her formal stance and stood comfortably.

“Just now, was that really the princess?”

“Aren’t there many high-ranking nobles at the academy?”

“It’s my first time seeing the princess.”

Sometimes I forget. Princess Mint is a very high-ranking person, isn’t she? It’s hard to realize since I know her personally.

Istina seemed to have many questions.

“What.”

“Are you acquainted with the princess?”

Yes.

“I was the royal physician.”

“Wow. That’s amazing. More than that, what is that thing in your ear? Is it a tool for listening?”

This is a stethoscope I made while working at the royal palace.

“A stethoscope. You can hear sounds inside the body. Usually heart sounds and breath sounds. With more practice, you can also hear bowel sounds or vascular sounds.”

“Ah…”

The stethoscope was invented in the early 19th century. Istina might have never seen anything like it.

“Can I try it?”

“Sure.”

I handed the stethoscope to Istina. She curiously placed the head of the stethoscope here and there.

“Professor, can you diagnose a disease just by listening to the patient’s sounds with this?”

Not to that extent.

“Well, if it’s a heart disease or a lung disease, you might be able to figure out why they’re in pain. But you can’t immediately tell what disease it is.”

That’s a bit different.

In the hospitals of my previous life, there was the concept of a definitive diagnosis. Bacteria could be identified without any error through genetic testing. Most problems could eventually be identified through biopsies, endoscopies, or CT scans.

Not here.

There’s no sure way to find out. If the symptoms disappear with medication or treatment, you just assume, “Ah, I must have diagnosed it correctly.”

That’s what healing magic is for, anyway.

And then, off to work.

This is my ward.

For now, I’ll leave the research work to Istina. Today, I have to go to the ward. Actually, Istina came along too… So it’s a bit strange to say I left the research work to her.

That’s why we need more graduate students. Anyway, we left the research work to our future selves. Today, it’s time to see the patients in the ward.

It seems that patients who are in emergency, critical condition, or whose illness is unknown are sent from the general ward to the professor’s ward. It feels like something is out of order, but there’s nothing we can do about it.

I have no idea what to do. I just sat quietly in the corner of the ward. Istina was reading a textbook beside me.

“Reading the textbook is good, but I wonder how much of it will actually be useful.”

“Uh, but wouldn’t it be good for the professor to read the textbook too? It would be easier if they knew what we were studying based on.”

Right. We should find a time to look at it.

“Istina, based on your experience working in this ward, how many patients do you think will come today?”

“Patients come a lot even on normal days. If nothing special happens, the ward will probably be full.”

Oh.

This 12-bed ward will be full? That seems like a lot for two people to handle.

“Once it’s full, no new patients can come in until someone leaves. So it won’t be as troublesome as you think.”

I nodded.

Let’s see what kind of patients come in.

A moment later.

The first patient to enter my ward was holding his arm. To be precise, he was holding his upper arm, and his forearm seemed to be seriously injured. It looked untouchable.

The patient was a young man in riding clothes. He was probably an academy student.

Istina ran to the patient, and I looked at the nurse who had helped the patient in.

“Do you know the patient’s information?”

“Academy student, Benjamin. He fell while riding a few hours ago, and his arm hit a rock, breaking his arm bone.”

The nurse who brought the patient answered.

A male student who looked about the same age as Istina. Brown hair, his face covered in sweat from the pain of his broken arm.

Forget about the face. The arm is what matters.

It seems like they came from a general ward. Judging by the way the forearm is bent where there shouldn’t be a joint, it’s definitely a fracture. What kind of fracture could it be?

A comminuted fracture where the bone is crushed? Or a simple fracture? Looking at the angle of the bent arm, even if it’s a simple fracture, both sides of the humerus must be broken.

More importantly, seeing that the arm is still bent, it must be severely broken. Or did they bend the arm with torn muscles or tendons into that angle?

It’s a serious situation. Not only will they lose the use of the arm, but their life might be in danger if not treated quickly.

“Patient, are you in a lot of pain?”

“Argh! It hurts so much I could die.”

Is it difficult to communicate?

It can’t be helped. I walked over to the bedside and checked the patient’s broken arm. There were bruises and swelling. At a glance, it was hard to tell what the problem was.

I pressed the edge of the bruise first.

“Does it hurt?”

“Arghhh!”

It seems to hurt a lot. The first priority is to check where and how far pressing causes extreme pain.

Depending on the distribution of the pain, we can determine if the bone is broken, how many bones are broken, and if the muscles or nerves are damaged.

“How about here?”

“Ah, arghhh!”

They have a good set of lungs.

“Is it okay to press the wound like that?”

Istina muttered softly.

It’s okay to press.

There is no way to grasp the current situation. Pressing the arm broken by the hammer with fingers won’t make it worse. The arm might hurt a bit, though.

“Estina. I’ll give you one minute. Tell me your diagnosis and treatment plan for the patient, in your own words.”

Estina opened her mouth.

“Uh, since the patient’s arm is broken, I think we need to splint it, and since they are in pain, we should use a painkiller. Other than that-“

“Think a bit more.”

Both were wrong. I turned my gaze away from Estina and looked back at the patient.

“Patient. How did you get injured?”

“Fell off a horse, ugh.”

“Did you try to set the bone?”

“Ah… no?”

I see. I took a handkerchief out of my pocket and handed it to Estina. Estina looked at me with a puzzled expression.

“Gag the patient’s mouth.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Set the bone.”

“Won’t that hurt a lot? Shouldn’t we use a painkiller now-“

I shook my head.

If we had access to an X-ray, I would have used a painkiller first. But… there are a few reasons why we shouldn’t use a painkiller now.

“If we use a painkiller, the pain pattern will change. Then there’s no way to know what’s wrong with the arm. We’ll use the painkiller in ten minutes.”

“Understood.”

Estina nodded.

I made eye contact with the patient.

“10 minutes! We’ll use the painkiller in 10 minutes!”