Chapter 7

7th Episode: Reporting to the Ward (2)

****

“So I heard you opened a clinic. Came by to take a look, Teacher Asterix. Are you liking the Academy? I’ve heard you’ve been working hard.”

Of course, it was tough.

“It’s only natural. I intend to rewrite the history of medicine in the Empire with the opportunity given to me by Her Imperial Highness.”

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

The Imperial Princess muttered under her breath.

“I’m simply honest. To some, my humility might show through my flaws, while others may perceive arrogance in my strengths.”

“You talk too much. Let’s just call it arrogance.”

Anyway, time to start the examination.

“Let me auscultate you.”

Asthma isn’t something that cures easily. Although the princess’s symptoms have improved significantly and she looks perfectly fine as usual, placing the auscultation device against her chest still reveals underlying issues.

Even now, auscultating the princess’s lungs reveals wheezing sounds—basically, the sound of air being obstructed as it exits the lungs.

“Are you feeling better?”

“No. Compared to last time, there doesn’t seem to be much difference. Though compared to when we first met, there has been remarkable progress.”

“Seems like the healer’s skills are lacking.”

“That seems to be the case.”

“Well, you’re fired.”

“That’s unfortunate.”

After pondering for a moment, I placed a vial on the desk. It contains the same medication we used before—a long-acting bronchodilator.

“Is this the same as last time?”

“Yes.”

“Do we need to increase the dosage?”

“Do you feel shortness of breath during regular activities or exercise?”

“Not really.”

“There’s no need to change it then.”

I shook my head.

It’s somewhat disappointing. If only we had a way to measure lung capacity or breathing volume—it would help greatly. Unfortunately, there’s no such equipment available in the imperial palace.

“Oh, by the way, the severity of asthma can also be assessed by measuring the amount of air moved during respiration. Shall I try making an appropriate instrument?”

Perhaps they have a machine for measuring gas volumes in the alchemy department’s experiment room. Now that I think about it, they should definitely have one.

“Try it.”

“All right.”

I bowed to the princess.

“Please come again next time.”

“When?”

“Around next month? Once the medication runs out, please return. If your condition worsens, don’t hesitate to visit earlier.”

“Understood.”

Princess Mint left the clinic afterward. Istina, who had maintained a formal stance until then, finally relaxed once Mint exited.

“Was that really the Imperial Princess?”

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

“This is the first time I’ve seen the princess.”

Sometimes I forget. Princess Mint is indeed an exalted figure—but knowing her personally makes it hard to fully grasp her status.

****

Istina seemed full of questions.

“What?”

“Do you know the princess?”

Yes.

“I used to be her personal physician.”

“Wow, that’s amazing! By the way, what’s that thing in your ear? Is it for listening?”

That’s the stethoscope I made while serving in the imperial palace.

“Stethoscope. It allows you to listen to internal body sounds, usually heartbeats and breathing. With more practice, you can even hear bowel sounds or blood flow.”

“Ah…”

Since the stethoscope wasn’t invented until the early 19th century, Istina probably hasn’t seen anything like it.

“Would you like to try it?”

“Sure.”

I handed the stethoscope to Istina, who curiously pressed its head against various spots.

“Professor, can you diagnose a patient’s illness just by listening with this?”

Not entirely.

“Maybe. For heart or lung diseases, it might help identify the cause of pain, but it won’t instantly reveal the exact illness.”

There’s a difference.

In my past life at the hospital, we had definitive diagnoses. Bacterial identification via genetic testing provided precise results, and most conditions could eventually be diagnosed through biopsies, endoscopies, or CT scans.

Here, it’s different.

There’s no reliable method to definitively diagnose. If symptoms disappear with medication or treatment, we can only assume the diagnosis was correct.

Besides, that’s why we have healing magic.

****

And so, back to work.

This is my ward.

For now, I’ve entrusted research duties to Istina. Today, I’m reporting to the ward. Actually, since Istina came along, delegating all research to her feels a bit strange.

That’s why we need more graduate students. Anyway, we’ve passed our research responsibilities to future us. Time to focus on the ward patients.

Emergency, severe cases, or unknown illnesses from general wards are transferred here to the professor’s ward. The order might seem off, but there’s nothing we can do.

I have no idea what to expect today. So, I just sat quietly in a corner of the ward. Istina was reading a textbook nearby.

“Reading textbooks is good, but how much of it actually applies here is uncertain.”

“Um, shouldn’t you also review the textbook, Professor? Knowing what we study will make things smoother, right?”

True. I should find time to review it soon.

“Istina, based on your experience here, how many patients do you think we’ll see today?”

“There are always a lot of patients. Unless something unusual happens, the ward will likely be full.”

What?

If the 12-bed ward fills up, that seems like too much for just two of us to handle.

“Once it’s full, new patients can’t be admitted until someone leaves. So, it won’t be as troublesome as you might think.”

I nodded.

Let’s see what kind of patients arrive.

Shortly after,

The first patient walked in holding their arm—or rather, gripping their upper arm while the lower arm appeared severely injured, almost untouchable.

The patient was a young man wearing equestrian attire, probably an Academy student.

Istina rushed over, and I glanced at the nurse assisting the patient.

“Do you have any information about the patient?”

“The patient is Benjamin, a student from the Academy. A few hours ago, he fell during horseback riding, landing on a rock and breaking his arm.”

The nurse explained.

The male student, around Istina’s age with brown hair, was drenched in sweat from the pain of his broken arm.

Enough about his face. Let’s focus on the arm.

Looks like he was lying in the general ward before being transferred here. Judging by the unnatural bend in his forearm where there shouldn’t be a joint, a fracture is certain. But what type?

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

Moreover, the fact that the arm remains bent suggests either severe damage or that torn muscles and tendons have caused this misalignment.

This is serious. If not treated promptly, the patient risks losing function in the arm and possibly endangering their life.

“Does it hurt a lot, patient?”

“AAHH! It hurts so much, I feel like I’m dying!”

Communication is difficult in this state.

No choice. I approached the bedside and examined the patient’s broken arm. There’s bruising and swelling, but it’s unclear exactly what’s wrong without further inspection.

I pressed lightly on the edge of the bruise.

“Does it hurt?”

“GAAAAAH!”

Clearly, it’s very painful. First priority is determining the range where pressing causes extreme pain. This helps assess whether bones are broken, how many, and if there’s muscle or nerve damage.

“How about here?”

“Ah, AAAHHHH!”

He’s got quite the voice.

“Should you really press on the wound like that?” Istina whispered softly.

It’s fine to press.

There’s no other way to understand the current situation. Pressing a broken arm with fingers won’t cause additional harm. Sure, it’ll hurt a bit more.

“Istina, I’ll give you one minute. Tell me your thoughts on diagnosing and treating this patient.”

Istina began.

“Uh, the patient’s arm is broken, so we should apply a splint. Since the patient is in pain, we should use a painkiller. Beyond that…”

“Think harder.”

Both ideas are wrong. After turning away from Istina, I looked back at the patient.

“Patient, what exactly happened?”

“I fell off a horse… AGH.”

“Did anyone attempt to realign the bones?”

“Uh… No?”

I pulled a handkerchief from my pocket and handed it to Istina, who gave me a puzzled look.

“Put this in the patient’s mouth as a gag.”

“What are you planning to do?”

“We need to realign the bones.”

“But won’t that be extremely painful? Maybe we should administer a painkiller first…”

I shook my head.

If we had access to X-rays, I’d start with a painkiller too. However…

“There are reasons not to use a painkiller now. Painkillers alter the pain pattern, making it impossible to determine the exact condition of the arm. We’ll administer the painkiller ten minutes later.”

“I understand.”

Istina nodded.

I locked eyes with the patient.

“In ten minutes! We’ll use the painkiller in ten minutes!”

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