It has to be said that sometimes life is so bizarre, full of twists and turns like the elusive will of Heavenly Father.
For example, on a rainy night, I received an irresistible mission to go out and find someone. When I arrived at the place, I learned that the person happened to be attending a banquet outside the city today.
Cursing the damn extravagant habits of those nobles, I finally made it to the venue, and used both soft and hard tactics to break in and meet the person. I thought it would take a lot of effort, but the person was unexpectedly easy to talk to and skipped what I thought was the most difficult task.
step.
When everything was going smoothly, something completely beyond consideration happened. Someone launched an attack on the Inquisition team on the outskirts of Dunling.
Before they could pour out all their anger tonight on these blind guys, the horses were hit by arrows and fell to the ground without giving them any chance to perform.
Then, unfortunately, his leg was pinned down and his head hit the ground hard.
Losing consciousness is not always a bad thing, it just fast forwards and skips the most dangerous part of the battle, but not waking up after the battle is another problem.
However, the paradox of fate is that if you hadn't been seriously injured and fell to the ground, you would never have known that the banquet you just left was a team building event for a medical school and a product exhibition for medical equipment manufacturers.
It is very dramatic that the number and quality of doctors in this area are unprecedented. It can be said that as long as a thunderbolt hits the ceiling of the house and falls on the table filled with dishes, the medical level from Dunling to Westmin will be set back tenfold on the spot.
Year.
The bad news is that after seeing the situation, several of them with more seniority expressed that they couldn't help. You don't know whether this was out of professional judgment or some personal grudges. After all, the relationship between the two parties has never been harmonious.
There is no such thing as a medical error appraisal these days. If you really need someone to appraise it, you will find that the qualified experts are still the same people. It is a pure endless cycle.
"The fracture is minor. The professor handled it promptly and properly. Considering his age, it won't be impossible for him to heal." Viren also came around and pressed the head of the unconscious monk lying on the ground.
The scalp is swollen, and when pressed it is not a hard lump, but a wavy feeling, which indicates that there is bleeding under the impact site.
"The key is inside. There may be bleeding below the skull. We have had patients who were unconscious after being hit on the head. It was later proven that the cause of death may be intracranial hemorrhage and compression, which squeezed and displaced the brain."
It sounds suspicious, especially the part about how to know the cause of death. But even if you don't believe in the moral bottom line of this group of people, you have to believe in their professionalism.
Now that I have said that, usually all that is left is to pray to Heavenly Father.
The few physicians present were willing to give a few prescriptions for dealing with congestion, but their practical significance was seriously questionable.
But Kraft offers another option, one that may sound particularly unfriendly.
As soon as he saw the patient's condition, he knew that he had to put aside the dissection of the body with a special structure and consider the issue of living people first - otherwise he would no longer have to think about it soon.
Opening the injured person's eyelids, the pupils have become dilated and are less sensitive to light. There is no need to say "possible", this is a sign of intracranial injury.
Thinking about this group of people really trying to protect themselves in the chaos, and it is very possible to step out of a trap for themselves in advance. Out of conscience, it is necessary to take advantage of it, even if it may
Cause yourself some trouble.
He briefly turned on his mental senses and confirmed the diagnosis of "God knows where the intracranial injury was" to "left temporal and parietal epidural hematoma."
To put it simply, there is bleeding between the braincase and the dura mater, and the space in the braincase is limited. Now it seems that the amount of bleeding has become so large that it is beginning to compress the brain tissue, slowly pushing them to places where they should not go.
His hair was still wet, and he had just cleaned up and changed into clean clothes. "My suggestion is to open a small piece of the skull and remove the stasis."
It feels like déjà vu. There must have been a famous doctor who made similar suggestions at an inappropriate time, and it became a typical example of poor doctor-patient communication in the early days.
The difference is that Kraft feels that his plan is quite conservative. In the final analysis, all operations will not involve the slightest bit of brain, the conditions are not exceeded, and the equipment can be obtained by yourself.
The few monks who were still alive looked at each other in confusion, and no one had the final say to give an answer. In fact, it was already a sign of self-restraint that he didn't jump up and prescribe a scoop to the doctor who proposed the treatment plan.
"This is just a plan. If we don't deal with it, we can only hope for mercy from our Heavenly Father."
A little commotion occurred among the surrounding doctors. Apparently people in the industry also had doubts about this, but at least it seemed to be well controlled, and something invisible prevented them from judging.
Even if it sounds unconventional, not everyone in the professional field can question the treatment plan proposed by the professor.
"It is true that there are many treatments for drilling into the skull, but they were mostly used for mental illnesses in the past, but now they are used less." However, Willen saw that Kraft was serious about his suggestions and stepped forward to provide support.
Although from the standpoint of professional ethics, he could not say "if the church is dead, it will die", but it is necessary to weigh the pros and cons. Taking risks will not bring much benefit, but if something goes wrong, it will definitely be very troublesome.
The lecturer gave Kraft a wink, implying that there was no need to go through this whole thing, and it was better to persuade him to quit directly. "The risk will be very high. Can any of you help him make a decision?"
The latter seemed not to understand what he meant, nodded his thanks, and continued to turn to the monks and explained: "I will make pre-operative preparations first to avoid wasting time. You'd better make a decision before I come back. After all, I can do it at any time."
Here, the injury waits for no one."
The conditions for this meeting couldn't be more coincidental. Others may not know about it, but for those who know it well, it is difficult to accept that a case that can be saved worsens step by step.
"Lecturer Wilen, if you can, help us pack up the tools. Coop, take this moment to wash his head, don't shake it too hard."
…
…
In less than ten minutes, Kraft returned to the room after picking up the necessary tools from the warehouse next door.
This chapter is not over, please click on the next page to continue reading! "How was it?"
"Professor, I apologize in advance for any offence. How many cases of this kind of head-opening treatment have you performed before?"
This question is difficult to answer. Frankly speaking, this is the first time here, but it is not easy for the monks to consider accepting it. If you tell the truth, it will definitely not make people feel at ease.
"Since my grandfather's generation, our family has begun to explore the mind. We have a relatively advanced understanding of the skull structure and have quite a lot of practical experience."
"What we have to do now is just to clean up the congestion between the bone plate and the diaphragm below, but far from touching the inside."
Except for Kupp, who really knew a little about the Kraft family, everyone present showed their understanding - it turned out that they were from a medical family, and it was reasonable to cultivate such a person.
After some internal discussion, the monks quickly reached a consensus.
As people who have been active on the front line for a long time, they have a good understanding of the dangers of this kind of injury.
Perhaps it was because the experience of fighting the enemy together had gained some recognition, or because the person Green was looking for had a credit bonus, the balance gradually tilted towards the side Kraft wanted to see.
"Leaving destiny to Heavenly Father does not mean giving up human efforts." One of the monks stood up and gave the answer on behalf of everyone, "But we hope to watch."
"Okay, I just need someone to help fix him." Kraft picked up the first set of tools he would use today, which was not surgical equipment, but standard barber supplies.
In order to clear the surgical area, a large area of hair centered on the expected incision was completely shaved off, leaving a large open space on the top of the head with thick hair.
I hope this guy won’t be worried about his image for a while after he wakes up. However, the Mediterranean hairstyle is already popular among middle-aged clergymen, so you can comfort him that this is just a little advance of the inevitable future.
"The next scene will be special. Since you have agreed to the treatment, I hope you can hold him down without causing any interference. Being biased here is not a trivial matter at all."
That's true, everyone can understand it. The operation on his hands is not so reassuring.
None of the monks present would be soft-hearted on the battlefield. But sending the opponent to see the Heavenly Father with a knife in his hand and watching the person slowly and steadily slice open the skin flap and peel it off from the skull are two completely different things.
"Hold it, don't move it." Kraft used a toothed hemostat to clamp the raised skin flap and handed it to Coop to fix it. "Give me the thick needle."
Wiping away the accumulated blood with a cotton cloth, his vision became clear for a few seconds, but the red color was still seeping out slowly. He took the thick steel needle handed over by Viren, burned it on the flame, and touched the small bleeding spots on the edge.
After a slight sizzling sound, the bleeding stopped, and the red color was wiped away, exposing the white curved surface below.
You don't need to look up to know that the face of the patient's colleague must be very ugly, and he may even begin to regret it.
"Now is the real difficulty. Don't shake the hand that is pressing your head."
It turns out that mental construction is prescient. When Kraft picked up a small chisel from the tray, the field of surgery really began to be unstable.
This is something similar to a chisel, with a sharp head. It is used in the same way as a carpenter's chisel. You use a hammer to hit the end to make a hole. If you don't have a bone drill, you can only rely on it.
The metal pressed against the skull, making a crisp and untimely knocking sound as the hammer fell, leaving a shallow mark. It was a bit like a large wooden fish with a dull sound.
A series of shallow marks formed a triangle that gradually penetrated into the skull. During the carving process, red and white foam was produced, which required repeated cleaning. The progress was not optimistic, but this was definitely not a job that could be done quickly.
The operation requires cutting off an exact piece of skull and opening a triangular bone window to provide space for decompression and cleaning. If it is shallow, it cannot be removed at all, but the deeper it goes, the more cautious it is to prevent direct penetration by a certain drop of the weight.
This requires considerable control and keen awareness. Every tap makes people's hearts tremble, unconsciously bringing pressure to the operator.
Viren felt his palms sweating, which was completely different from trying to drill holes into his skull to cure "evil spirits entering the brain."
"tweezers."
He quickly picked out the tweezers and handed them to the outstretched hand. He watched as Kraft clamped the corner of the triangle that had a clear boundary with the surroundings, lifted it up carefully and steadily, and put it aside.
The lights gathered here illuminated the situation below, and black and red objects filled the field of vision. I had seen it more than once in the past, but only on the dead.
The monk responsible for fixing the head witnessed a slender forceps inserted into the skull and suppressed the urge to let go.
You can also feel the patient's somewhat disordered breath flowing through the fingertips, and the doctor is pinching something out of the window of the skull. It is a strip of blood that has semi-solidified into a texture like fermented milk products, and there is more accumulated in the
within the incision.
This step did not cause too much difficulty. After clearing out the black and red clots that had spread lightly on the bottom of the plate, the skin flap was sewn back to its original position and cleaned and bandaged.
Except for the loss of hair and the extra sutures, the patient appeared to be normal.
The monk who took a deep breath noticed a small white triangular object that seemed to be forgotten next to him.
"Don't you need to put it back?"
"No need, keep it as a souvenir for him when he wakes up." Kraft washed off the blood on his hands and began to prepare for the next battle. He was going to find out what happened to the attacker.