Chapter 4

Wuzhou followed the standard procedure for surgical hand washing, lathering up with water and soap, washing from his fingertips to his upper arms. After the first wash, he cupped his hands together, holding the strong alcohol and carefully rubbed them again.

While rubbing, he sighed inwardly: no tap water, no antibacterial hand wash, no iodine, no chlorhexidine. The three rounds of hand washing had to be reduced to two. If this were in the emergency department, even the operating room nurse would scold him so harshly that he would cower and run away.

Even the alcohol's potency was questionable—judging by the smell, it was probably not enough!

Forget about sterile gloves; whether the patient would get infected was basically left to fate...

And there were no antibiotics!

No sulfonamides, no penicillin, no cephalosporins...

He would have to handle the intestines with these hands, and thinking about the risk of infection after closing the abdomen, Wuzhou shuddered.

This was a matter of life and death!

But if the intestines were damaged, that would be a huge problem. Once the contents of the intestines leaked out, peritonitis, sepsis, and various complications could be fatal. In clinical practice, if the intestines were not properly repaired before closing the abdomen, the gastrointestinal surgeon would face a medical malpractice lawsuit.

Choose the lesser of two evils!

Wuzhou held his breath and began to examine the intestines, starting from the duodenum and moving down inch by inch. As he handled the bloody intestines, the sound of frantic vomiting came from beside him:

"Ugh—"

The red-haired archer knelt on the ground, her head curled between her knees, her face almost buried in the vomit. The little priest's face was pale, and he tried hard to avoid looking at the abdominal cavity, his lips tightly pressed together, his cheeks puffing and deflating. Behind them, a thud sounded, like a bucket falling to the ground—it was the one fetching water, who had also vomited.

Vomit, vomit, you'll get used to it. Wuzhou thought to himself, but when he looked at the patient, he was terrified:

"You're awake!—Hold him down! Quickly, hold him down!"

Damn, intraoperative awakening!... No, there was no "intraoperative" to begin with; there was no anesthesia, and the patient was just waking up!

I'm handling your intestines, buddy!

Don't move!!

Several warriors, with vomit at the corners of their mouths, scrambled to hold the patient down. The patient, in a panic, exerted tremendous strength despite losing at least 500ml of blood, and the three of them almost couldn't hold him. Wuzhou, holding a segment of the jejunum in his left hand and a segment of the ileum in his right, was drenched in cold sweat:

"Don't move! Don't move—"

No anesthesia was truly terrifying... If only someone had something to knock the patient out...

Just kidding. If he caused a subdural hematoma, he wouldn't know how to treat it!

After explaining and comforting the patient, he finally calmed down. Wuzhou focused and examined the intestines inch by inch. No, no, no damage in the jejunum, that's good! Next was the ileum, which had fallen out and was the most dangerous part...

A 5cm-long tear!

Fortunately, he found it. If he hadn't, and had simply returned the intestines...

Wuzhou was already imagining the consequences: intestinal contents leaking, abscess formation, peritonitis, sepsis, and death. That's how surgery works: if you find and suture the damage, everything is fine; if you miss even a little...

Now, there were no conditions to suture the intestines. But he had something else.

Wuzhou carefully inverted the bottle of minor healing potion and dripped it onto the wound. One drop, two drops...

Under his watchful eye, the narrow wound began to heal visibly, inch by inch...

It stopped moving.

Wuzhou replaced the stopper, shook the bottle, and pulled it out again. Another drop...

It's healed! Perfect!

Wuzhou sighed in relief and continued to examine the rest. Fortunately, the remaining part of the ileum, as well as the cecum and colon, were undamaged. As for the rectum, it was unlikely to be affected at such a low position, so he didn't need to check it.

Rinse!

Close the abdomen!

Right, there was no 37°C saline solution here, so he had to prepare it himself...

"Is the water boiling yet?"

"Not yet..."

Look, look, this is how dire the situation is.

He spread his hands.

Should he be grateful that they were in a dilapidated house where he could boil water and find some salt?

Wuzhou took a deep breath, another deep breath, and a third deep breath. He held his hands in front of his chest in a very awkward position, turning his upper body to wait for the water to boil. Then, he began to give instructions to his teammates on how to prepare the saline solution:

"Pour the boiling water into the cold water... don't pour too much! Taste it... no, don't drink it directly, pour it out and taste it. It should be the same temperature as your mouth, neither hot nor cold.

Good, now add the salt! Don't add too much, just a pile the size of your thumb's first joint, crush it, and throw it in, shake it!—Taste it again, it should be salty but not bitter. That's right, let me taste it too..."

"Why do we need to add salt?"

The little priest had finally recovered from vomiting, his freckles looking a bit duller, but his eyes were still bright. Hearing his question, Wuzhou blurted out without thinking:

"Saline solution doesn't hurt when used to clean wounds."

"What kind of salt water?... Why doesn't it hurt?"

Wuzhou: "..."

Oh no, he had slipped! The people in this world didn't know what saline solution was!

And why it didn't hurt? Should he give a physiology lesson, explaining from cell osmotic pressure to nerve conduction?

"Cough, saline solution, it's salt water as salty as blood... when your blood flows into your wound, it doesn't hurt much, right?"

"But salt is expensive!"

What? Salt is expensive?

Wuzhou was sweating profusely. In clinical practice, saline solution was one of the most widely used items. It was used for cleaning wounds, rinsing various tubes, and even before closing the chest or abdomen. Everyone would pour it liberally, and a major surgery could easily use dozens of liters, which was not a big deal.

Now they were telling him salt was expensive...

Wuzhou turned and looked at the stone walls, thatched roof, and dark house. Okay, salt was indeed expensive.

"Even if it's expensive, we have to use it! If we don't use this concentration of salt water, the wound won't heal well!"

Using fresh water would result in a low osmotic pressure, causing a large number of cells to die, leading to electrolyte imbalance or other issues...

These people probably hadn't even heard of cells and ions...

The little priest looked thoughtful. Suddenly, a loud cough came from the side: "Cough... Little Gret, the salt water is ready!"