Chapter 5: The Master of Dissection Jason seeks collection and recommendation

  But Qiu Baozi heard this, of course, became even more uneasy. He knew that he and God had no relationship, from small to large, never seriously prayed, in fact, he did not believe in the Virgin Birth, what God created all things and other nonsense. This Tartar really is God's old man sent, then it must be to torment himself, rather than save yourself!

  Zhu Jishi didn't care what Qiu Pangzi thought, he just nodded heavily at him and made a cut next to the wound on Pangzi's belly with his scalpel. However... he didn't completely cut through Pangzi's thick abdominal muscles and fat, it seemed that this skill was not up to par! Zhu Jishi shook his head, then made another cut along the first incision, and fresh blood gushed out!

  "It really hurts!" Chui Baozi shouted in his heart. Now he was truly suffering, his opium had worn off too early, and the pain was no longer bearable! The current situation was like being skinned alive without anesthesia, let alone Chui Baozi, even nine out of ten abnormal Japanese samurai wouldn't be able to endure it and would want to find someone to blame.

  The fat man, with his hands and feet tied up, struggled desperately, but under the joint efforts of Haiming and Blonshtein, Zhū Jìshì still managed to cut open the fat man's belly, then inserted his hand into the fat man's abdomen, fumbled for half a day without finding the lead bullet, and finally ended up pulling out the fat man's smelly intestines!

  Everyone's eyes widened, and the maid named Lucy screamed and fainted. Churchill also lost consciousness. Dr. Zhou was extremely calm, pointing to a hole in the intestine: "The bullet has pierced the intestine. If we don't remove it immediately, Mr. Churchill will surely die."

  Isn't it certain now? Blonsky and Haiming exchanged a glance, and Countess Isabelle's face also looked terrible. Suddenly, Zhu Jishi shouted again: "Blonsky, blood transfusion! Haiming, give me hemostatic forceps!" The two people quickly came back to their senses, one handed the hemostatic forceps to Zhu Jishi, so that he could use them to clamp several bleeding points that were spraying blood, and the other used a syringe to inject the fresh blood in the wine glass into the blood vessels on Qiu Huanzi's arm.

  "Found the bullet." With a light sound, a deformed lead bullet fell on the wooden table, and Zhu Jishi said: "Thread".

  Blonshtein hastily handed over the suture thread to Zhū Jìshì. As mentioned earlier, Zhū Jìshì studied basic medicine, which is internal medicine in simple terms. He didn't have any surgical skills and only knew some principles, having only taken anatomy classes. So just now when cutting open Qiu Bao's belly, he made several cuts before finally opening it up, and this time sewing the stitches was even more crooked, if Ye Yiren saw it, she would laugh for three months. But in the end, it was somehow managed to be done decently, not only patching up the hole in the intestine and putting it back in place, but also sewing up the muscle and skin on Bao's belly. He also used Dr. Blonshtein's provided anti-inflammatory medication to apply to the wound, and wrapped the wound with gauze. As for antibiotics, Zhū Jìshì wasn't planning to give any to Bao unless he really got an infected wound and a high fever; otherwise, it was better to save them, before he "invented" penicillin and streptomycin, those two bottles of cefotaxime in the backpack were like magic medicine!

  ……

  "It really hurts!"

  Just as Zuo Jishi, Bulongshita and Wil Heming were working together to move Qiu Baozi into the bedroom, a heart-wrenching scream suddenly rang out, and Baozi had already woken up.

  "Hah, don't move around, do you know how heavy you are?" Wil Heming, who almost killed Churchill, said with disdain on his face. "Isn't it just a few cuts on the belly and pulling out the intestines? What's the big deal? Can't even the descendants of Duke John Churchill endure this little pain?"

  "Will, you scoundrel! I'm dying and you're still tormenting me. I won't let Isabelle follow you, she's so kind, pure and beautiful. If she were to be with a scoundrel like you, I would die without closing my eyes! I challenge you to a duel!"

  Zhu Jishi and Blonshtein heard the fat man's loud shouting, and their two hanging hearts finally put down. Even people who are not familiar with medicine know that Mr. Churchill's life is basically saved. Zhu Jishi now has an even more mysterious expression. After finishing the operation on Churchill, he chatted with Blonshtein for a whole hour, discussing medical issues. The more they discussed, the more they felt their medical skills were superior - isn't this a waste of words? He was a top student from a medical school 172 years later! If his medical skills weren't superior, wouldn't his six years in medical school be wasted?

  In Zhu's view, the medical level of this era is simply... murder! And it's still abuse! If viewed from a 21st-century perspective, Western doctors in this era are basically all psychopathic killers and abusers. These guys don't even understand basic surgical disinfection and blood transfusion knowledge, yet they dare to perform surgery on people! Isn't that killing? If the patient doesn't die from wound infection or excessive bleeding, it's absolutely a fluke! As for anesthesia, it's basically just opium and white wine! How much pain-relieving effect do these two things have? Letting patients take a few puffs of opium before chopping off their hands and feet, isn't that abuse?!

  Here is the translation:

  "Right, 19th-century European doctors were all bloody dope peddlers! Opium was a staple in their medicine chests and the most effective painkiller. As long as patients needed it and could afford to pay, doctors would immediately sell opium to them. What's even more outrageous is that during this era, opium was openly sold in pharmacies in Western capitalist countries! Were they running pharmacies or opium dens?"

  What is even more unforgivable is that Western medicine in the 19th century was still massively harming pregnant women and infants! Due to the lack of necessary surgical disinfection, even for normal births, nearly 10% of mothers would die from puerperal fever or other bacterial infections! As for cesarean sections, they were unimaginable, so difficult labor was basically a death sentence for the mother.

  No wonder these whites don't have population problems in later generations, it turns out they owe it to these perverted murderous doctors!

  In short, in Zhu Jishi's view, the doctors of this era are all heinous criminals who are particularly abnormal and shameless. Fortunately, before crossing over, she was a medical student; otherwise, in an era where there are so many abnormal killer doctors everywhere, if one gets a minor illness, wouldn't they be killed by a doctor like Blumstein?

  But in the eyes of Dr. Blonsky and that knife-scarred Chudak, Zhū Jìshì this Tatar doctor was also a similar role. Otherwise, how did the nickname of Jason, the chest opener, come about?

  "Alright, let's put him on this bed then." Isabelle said. She had already instructed the servants to clean up a bedroom and, according to Zhū Jìshì's instructions, change all the bedding into clean ones.

  "Ow, ow, ow…… Good heavens, can't you be more gentle?" Chubby Zhang wailed again, because several rough and boorish men thought this chubby guy was too heavy, directly throwing him onto the bed, as a result of pulling on his wound, making him feel quite painful.

  Blonshtein still seemed to be in disbelief that the goods had really escaped, took out a thermometer and measured Qi's body temperature, and indeed did not have a fever. The old man scratched his sparse white hair and let out a deep breath: "It's really a miracle, opening up the belly, transfusing blood, and removing the intestines..."

  "Guts! Good heavens! Are my guts still there?" Chubby Zhang seemed to recall that his intestines had been scooped out of his belly by some Tartar, and so he looked at Zhu Jishi with a tense face.

  "He's all stitched up and back in bed, not a single stitch missing." Zhu Jishi lifted the blanket off the stout man's body, took a look at the wound wrapped in gauze, and saw that there wasn't much blood seeping out. He nodded his head and revealed a warm smile: "Mr. Churchill, I must say your physical condition is quite good, the wound should heal quickly." Then he turned to Blomstein and said: "Give him... give him some opium to smoke, let him get a good night's sleep, and tomorrow it shouldn't hurt so much."

  There's no other way, now except for opium there really isn't any other painkiller that can be used, as for whether Chui Baozi will become a big smoker or not, it all depends on his own willpower!