Chapter 310 A New Treatment Method for Penetrating Injuries (Yan Guiren Ten Thousand Rewards Plus Update 3)

Gretel had treated several abdominal penetrating injuries in his previous life, and he had also treated one after time travel. But for penetrating injuries, one of its characteristics is:

No two patients with penetrating injuries are the same.

Different injured people, different organ locations, penetrations of different thicknesses and materials, different penetration locations, and even slightly different organ locations... the results are very different. Some injured people may stab the liver with one stick, pierce the spleen, and break the major blood vessels...

He died before being sent to the hospital, or he was still breathing when he was sent to the hospital. As soon as the abdomen was opened, the blood pressure plummeted, and he died before the doctor could find the blood vessels.

Therefore, Gretel did not dare to take this injured person lightly. Fortunately, he looked left and right, and looked at it together with the magic X-ray, and he felt somewhat confident, thinking that the injured might still be able to be rescued:

The iron bar penetrated through the 11th intercostal space on the back and exited above the pubic symphysis. This location is a bit far from the spine, presumably to avoid the liver and spleen, as well as the abdominal aorta and inferior vena cava. In other words, the probability of severe bleeding in a short period of time is not high, and it will not cause a disability that is difficult to recover.

In addition, when the injured was brought in, Grete also took a look at the blood stains on his clothes. According to his rich clinical experience, the injured person's bleeding so far should not exceed 500cc... Counting the subsequent intraoperative bleeding, with luck, he should be able to control it within 800cc, which is more dangerous, but he can still survive. number.

Grete had something in mind and volunteered. However, beside the injured man, the old man looked at him with squinted eyes and said doubtfully:

"You? Are you okay?"

Grete choked. He touched the oak staff from behind and raised it silently - there were three hard and emerald green leaves on the top of the staff, and he knew it was a senior third-level priest at a glance. The old man was stunned for a moment, then he bent deeply towards him, his face wrinkled into a knot:

"Master Priest, thank you for your kindness. But... uh, if possible, let's wait for the high-level healer to come over, okay?"

He looked uneasy and fearful, as if he was afraid that Grete would fall out on the spot. Gretel was stunned for a moment, and his attitude softened unconsciously. He knelt down and looked at him levelly:

"Of course. Don't worry. Brother Matthew is very nice... Then, I'll go see the other wounded first?"

It's up to the patient's family to choose the doctor, and he understands that. There is one attending physician and one director. He would definitely seek treatment from the chief physician. He had seen this kind of thing too often to get angry about it. Seeing that the old man was frightened, he squatted down and said a few words of comfort.

The old man breathed a sigh of relief and nodded vigorously. Gretel smiled at him, excused himself and walked away. He quickly changed into hand washing clothes, and together with the three original low-level priests in the treatment center and the two apprentices he brought, he treated other injured people. Cleaning, bandaging, bone-setting, suturing...

Oh, forget about the sutures. Because of the healing technique, no sutures have emerged yet. I can only direct positive energy to deal with it to speed up the healing of the wound.

This was such a busy time that half an hour passed before I knew it. Pastor Matthew was dripping with sweat and looked out the door more and more often. The breath of the injured was getting weaker and weaker. It was obvious that the healing skills were almost exhausted.

A clutter of footsteps finally sounded. Just as Pastor Matthew's face was filled with joy, he saw a fourth-level spring water goddess priest rushing in behind his companion:

"The Knights of the Temple went out for training, and the Archbishop followed them out! Only three people were left in the temple!"

The young priest who went to the God of War Temple to ask for help hurriedly said. The priest who arrived nodded to Matthew and immediately began to pray. Light blue, watery brilliance shot out from between his hands, silently covering the injured body.

However, there is not only a gap between level 4 and level 5, but also an essential sublimation. Many powerful magic spells cannot be used. As soon as Pastor Matthew stopped, visible to the naked eye, the injured man's vital signs began to become unstable——

"Um...priest, how long can you hold on? Can my son survive?" The old man squatted beside him and asked with a frown on his face. The priest wiped his sweat and shook his head:

"Half an hour at most——"

The old man's eyes darkened. The location of the Temple of the God of War is particularly remote. Even if both parties go out to ask for help at the same time, even if it takes another hour, people may not be able to come.

The wounded who Gretel had just treated also came over. With their arms hanging and their legs lame, they crowded into a circle around the injured, talking all over the place:

"Master Priest, you must save our first mate!"

"Yes, our first mate is the best!"

"Last time, Tang En almost fell into the sea. He rushed over and pulled him back without his life. One of his arms was broken!"

"And the last time..."

These wounded were all sailors, and even if they were decorated, they could shout at the top of their lungs. The treatment center was so noisy that the ceiling could be overturned. The priest's brain was about to be blown away by their noise. He couldn't bear it anymore and shouted:

"Quiet!"

"That's right, be quiet!" Gretel finished handling the last debridement and came over to shout:

"Have you ever seen someone who doesn't need to be quiet when praying? Get out, get out! Don't make any noise here!"

He had just dealt with half of the wounded, and the sailors all gave him face and collectively shut up and backed away. The young priest gave Gretel a grateful look and continued to pray with his head lowered. Another handful of light rain fell from the palm of his hand. He took a quick breath and whispered:

"My magic is almost used up. - Is there any spiritual potion?"

If you have any, give them to Pastor Matthew first. The eyes of two therapists and a patient's family member met, and they both saw the helplessness in each other's eyes.

The wounded man let out a low groan, struggled slightly, and blood gushed out from his back again. It was obvious that the priest's healing skills were gradually weakening and he could no longer stop his pain!

"Andre, don't move! Don't move!"

The old man stepped forward and supported his son's body. I wanted to make him lie down with less effort, but I didn't dare to use any force. My hands were trembling and I looked around hastily:

Who can save his son?

Who can? !

As he turned his eyes, he suddenly saw Gretel standing aside, looking at him silently. The old man's eyes lit up, but he didn't dare to speak. He only dared to express his pleading with his eyes.

Gretel sighed slightly and nodded. The old man let go of his hands, turned around, and knelt down to him:

"Lord Priest——"

"Get up and say it! Get up!"

Grete quickly went up to help him. The old man grabbed his arms with his backhand and held them tightly, his entire weight falling on him:

"Master Priest, please save my son! Please! Just now you said you could give it a try-"

"Don't be anxious, don't be anxious." Gretel tried to persuade him. "I'm not unwilling to take action. But this priest is treating you, and you--"

"I'm almost running out of magic! Come here!" The priest of the Spring Temple was not unhappy at all and immediately gave way. Gretel breathed a sigh of relief, nodded to him gratefully, and walked quickly to the injured person:

"Brother Matthew, carry the person to the operating room!"

The operating room is in the northwest corner of the first floor of the treatment center, farthest from the hall, and the door is closed. As soon as the stretcher was lifted, the injured person immediately began to scream again in a low voice as his internal injuries were affected. The old man quickly begged:

"Master Priest, please relieve his pain! If this continues, it will hurt to death! If he can't help but struggle, he will be injured even more seriously!"

"...I thought so too." Pastor Matthew sighed helplessly. "I have almost used all the higher-level magical spells, and I have to save the last one for critical moments. The low-level magical spells can't stop the pain... Little Grete, what are you doing?"

"Let me try." Grete had already leaned down. He pointed his fingers at the injured person's back, where the iron bar had penetrated, and recited a mantra in a low voice. As soon as the spell fell, Pastor Matthew could clearly see that the injured man's back muscles relaxed a little.

Grete's men did not stop, then walked around to the front of the injured person and cast the spell again. After casting the spell, he leaned over and asked:

"...Are you feeling better? Are you still in pain?"

The surface part of the human body has many pain-sensing nerves and is relatively sensitive. Internal organs are actually not very sensitive to pain. Of course, if this iron rod really penetrates into a fatal place and involves nerve pain, there is nothing I can do. We can only try our best to correct the scope of the spell...

"Better..." the injured man replied weakly. The young priest looked surprised, but was too embarrassed to ask. Pastor Matthew asked on the spot:

"The pain really stopped! Little Grete, how did you do it?"

"I'll tell you later," Gretel replied shortly. He directed others to carry the injured person into the operating room, positioned himself, and took out a small bottle of glycerin himself. Wipe it all over the injured person's abdominal skin and activate the B-ultrasound magic:

"Well, there's not a lot of fluid in the abdominal cavity. It seems like the amount of bleeding inside is okay... The rod is a bit far away from the liver... It's also a bit far away from the spleen... There's something wrong with the intestines, but it's not big... The kidneys... the kidneys are bad!"

He closed his eyes, moved his lips, and kept mumbling. No matter whether others knew what he was doing or not, they did not dare to disturb him and just shut up and stood on both sides. After Grete finished the inspection, he ran to wash his hands and at the same time turned back to Pastor Matthew and shouted:

"Brother Matthew, take out a handful of seeds! The thinnest, vine-type seeds you can find with no fuzz on them! Soak them in alcohol, I want to use them!"

The sound of water rushing. There was no special antiseptic hand sanitizer, so Grete could only use the most traditional surgical hand washing method, washing from fingertips to upper arms over and over again. After washing, he ran back to the injured person, smeared a strip of glycerin on the palm of his left hand, and sprinkled the seeds handed over by Matthew.

The seed temporarily stuck to his palm. Grete put his right hand on the injured person's abdomen to activate the B-ultrasound magic. He held the iron rod with his left hand and concentrated on stimulating the seeds——

Slender vines, not much thicker than a hair, swayed out of his hands. They are arranged densely, with no gaps between them, as if weaving a green brocade for the iron rod, clinging to the iron rod, moving forward silently.

Silently, it penetrated deep into the abdomen of the injured person and emerged from the back. Then, Gretel exerted force on his palm, and the vine seemed to shrink slightly inward, and then expand outward almost invisiblely.

"Brother Matthew, hold the iron rod steady! Follow its direction! Pull out!"

*****

3000 words!

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Wujue's "Writing Articles and Fighting on the Street":

The wind and rain hit my face,

Open the window and the moon fills the lake.

There is nothing on the desk,

No need to write Manjusri.

It's still not written by me, it's still written by the poetry machine... I feel like my writing is much better than mine... I really want to "don't have to write Manjusri"...