"I can't clean this, no way!"
Even the day after witnessing the potential of rubber gloves, arguments were breaking out in front of each ward. It was inevitable. The calcium hypochlorite was truly toxic. Every time I stuck my hand in there, I felt like I was going to die.
"You have to clean it. You know that, right? Things have changed drastically."
"O...."
Just a month ago, complaints held some weight. But now? They were completely irrelevant.
"Fine, clean it!"
The nurses' attitudes had changed the most. Doctors and medical students weren't solely focused on their patients here, as they had to move around a lot. Because of that, their observations of the patients themselves were inevitably lacking compared to the nurses. On the other hand, the nurses stayed in one place, constantly watching over the patients. Even the three-shift system wasn't fully established yet, so they were practically glued to their posts, allowing them to fully sense the changes in the patients.
"Ah, ah..."
"Clean it! That's how the patients will survive!"
Hadn't I mentioned it before? Unlike last month, this month the survival rate had skyrocketed to the point where you could feel it without even looking at the statistics. Since this was happening across the entire ward, the nurses were even more vocal. Though it was a bit much that even the hands of those shouting were red.
"Ha…"
Still, it was satisfying to see my annoying classmate, Colin, sighing deeply as he dipped his hands into that cursed liquid. Hahaha.
Another's pain is my joy...… No, that makes me sound too sadistic. Let's just say it's good to be contributing to saving lives.
"000"
Colin glared at me, unable to get used to the pain—no, he would never get used to it. What could he do about it?
"Alright, is everyone here?"
Even Professor Blundell, who had been lukewarm about handwashing, had now become the man with red hands. Who would've thought?
'Should we not distribute soap?'
There was a way to tell at a glance whether someone had washed their hands or not. Even in the 21st century, there were people who didn't wash their hands. While the patients might not know, there were people patrolling the hospital like undercover agents. They were called "infection control staff," dressed in plain clothes, checking whether people were washing their hands or not. Despite the proven usefulness of handwashing through theory and experience, the handwashing rate always hovered around 90%.
'Huh? There's disinfectant over there!'
In this era, you only needed to wash your hands with soap and running water before and after rounds, and the rest could be done with disinfectant. Yet, there were still those who didn't wash their hands. Damn it. We should gather them all here and make them do it. Then they'd say "thank you" and wash their hands.
'Ah… I want to go back and eat pork belly and kimchi stew…'
Just as my imagination was taking a strange turn, Professor Blundell's voice rang out.
"Alright, who wants to give it a try?"
Ah, I wondered why. It seemed my instincts had sensed danger. Blundell was looking at me. Well, it was about time for my turn. I had never stepped forward before, not even once.
"I'll give it a try."
So I stepped forward. A physical exam? Well… I was confident I could do it better than Blundell. I had never done it in obstetrics and gynecology myself, but I had seen it done many times, and my understanding of anatomy was incomparable.
"Alright."
I ignored Blundell's "let's see what you've got" expression and Colin's "you're doomed" look and examined the patient. Joseph and Alfred, being my good friends, were cheering me on. I didn't sense any worry from them. While others might think our group was lacking because we didn't do dissections and only did strange things, at least those two knew my excellence very well.
"Hmm… It looks like it's about to open soon. It's about the length of a finger."
In any case, I performed the palpation with the gentleness and precision essential for a doctor. It might not be visible to those who didn't know, but to those who did, it would be clear.
'Oh, does this guy know something?'
Surprisingly, Blundell was looking at me with an impressed expression. Well, I had pinpointed it accurately without hesitation and even gave precise measurements, so it made sense. As they say, even a needle stands out in a bag of rice. If a needle could earn such praise, then what about me here…
"You're quite good, huh? You always hung back, so I thought you lacked confidence, but you did it right away. I'm impressed."
It was almost like the level of the Monkey King's staff. As I was thinking that, Blundell patted my shoulder and moved on to another patient. I didn't feel particularly happy. There was no reason to be happy about receiving praise from someone like Blundell, and my mind was preoccupied with the thought that the bacteria on my shoulder had now transferred to my hand.
'It can't be helped… This is just how it is.'
It was much better than touching things right after an autopsy. Thankfully, the human body is designed to withstand most contamination. Still, it would've been better to wash my hands between patients, but if I said that now, with my hands already red, I'd likely face backlash. Even if I used soap, it would've been the same. After all, running water itself was a rarity in this era.
'Thank goodness. Phew.'
In any case, when I checked again a couple of days later, there were no patients with puerperal fever in that ward. No, it wasn't puerperal fever—it should be called an infection. That concept didn't exist in this era, but I couldn't get swept up in that, could I?
"Ah, Pyeong."
Just as I was sighing in relief, Alfred approached me. Living together and discussing medicine every day, talking about condoms, and even sharing personal stories had made us quite close. He was a good guy. It wasn't just the first impression—he really was. The fact that he was grateful was already something special.
"Ah, yes. Senior."
"My dad made some gloves. Should we go check them out?"
"Ah, really? Let's go. Where's Joseph?"
"He's already gone to the carriage. You're always at the library, so it's hard to find you."
"Ah, I see."
I wasn't there to study. Well, I was there to study, but… It would be more accurate to say I wasn't there to acquire knowledge.
'If we want to improve step by step, we need to understand how far this era has come.'
I wasn't just reading medical books. I was looking into various fields—anything that seemed related to medicine. The problem was that almost every field was connected to medicine. Didn't I just realize that even condoms were related to medicine?
'Damn it.'
So, I had been reading physics until just now. It was Newton's book. Isaac Newton. I just found out that he was a 17th-century person. I probably knew that in high school, so it's more accurate to say I remembered. Anyway, it's been nearly 200 years since that man was born and died, so why is the world still like this?
"Let's go together, then."
"Sure."
My head hurt for various reasons. Damn it. I hate physics... And why are you guys like this…?
"Hmm. Ugh…"
Grumbling, I got into the carriage, but something was different. The carriage… had been upgraded.
"...?"
"Ah. My dad's been in a really good mood lately. He said this is definitely going to work. Oh, he did have one request."
"Yes, yes."
"He asked to keep this a secret. He's been buying up rubber, so… if word gets out, the price might go up."
"Of…"
I was a bit dumbfounded. Didn't the senior know? Other than the people in this carriage, I don't have any friends. No, it's not just that—there are hardly any people who even acknowledge my greetings…
"Yeah, Joseph, you too."
Because of me, Joseph was also an outcast. Of course, Joseph was tall and good-looking, so he was popular with the nurses, but among the medical students, he wasn't much different from me. That's what I liked to believe.
Damn it.
Before my embarrassing thoughts could show on my face, the carriage smoothly started moving. The horse was the same, but the carriage wheels had been replaced, making it much better. There were some who looked at us with displeasure, though. Colin. He was on his way to the dissection lab, stuffing cotton up his nose, glaring at us—no, mostly at me.
-How can a coward who can't even dissect think of becoming a surgeon?
His lips moved so clearly that I could read what he was saying. Bastard. Just wait. I'll show you a whole new world of dissection. With gloves, huh? I can show you something amazing. Of course, if I do too well, I might end up being labeled a witch from the mysterious East and burned at the stake, so I'll have to keep it moderate.
"Alright, we're here. Even if you're used to it, be careful no matter what."
The coachman, just like last time, had his gun fully exposed as he spoke. Given his intimidating appearance, it didn't seem like we'd be robbed, but you never know. The suppliers who delivered corpses to our medical school…
I still haven't found a better word than "suppliers."
Anyway, looking at those guys, it seemed the coachman needed his gun. Creak. We entered the rubber factory. The old man had placed something dark and lumpy on the table again. This time, it was clearly different. It wasn't the squid-like shape from before—it was gloves. They were quite large and looked loose, but at least they seemed like they'd prevent any accidents with knives.
"Here, take a look. Will this do?"
The old man chuckled as he handed over the gloves. I slipped my hand into one and felt around. The shape had changed, but this time, no one pulled their arm away.
'Hmm… There's no sensation. They're thinner than before, but… not as good as what I used to have. Still… I should be able to do dissections without a problem.'
Not just dissections—I could probably perform simple surgeries too. Of course, that would require the patient to be anesthetized and stay still. But at this point in time, these gloves were the best weapon available.
"Thank you. These should be enough for dissections… I can definitely work with these."
"I made four more while I was at it. Take them."
"Four more?"
Even with Joseph and Alfred, three would've been enough. Why did he make five? The old man sighed as he saw my puzzled expression.
"I made some for Professor Blundell and Professor Robert too. Even if they don't use them, I should give them some, right?"
"Ah… Yes, yes. I didn't think of that."
In my mind, those two weren't professors—they were barbarians. Plus, I was too preoccupied with other thoughts.
'Starting tomorrow… I'll show you what a dissection genius looks like.'
I'll wipe the floor with you all, that's what.