If you ask Perfikot about the medical standards of this era, she would likely offer a rather unpleasant assessment.
After all, the relationship between bacteria and diseases has yet to be discovered in this era. Humans do not know how to disinfect effectively to prevent diseases and surgical infections. Doctors still employ terrifying methods such as cauterizing or burning wounds to stop bleeding, which often results in severe complications.
As for surgical anesthesia, it’s much the same. Can you believe the standard in this era for evaluating a surgeon’s skill is how swiftly he can make the incision and complete the operation in the shortest time possible?
Medicinal drugs are even scarcer, and there’s virtually no understanding of the effects various chemical agents have on the human body.
Doctors rely more on experience than systematically acquired knowledge for patient treatments. What medication your doctor prescribes depends entirely on whether his experience is rich enough and if he wishes to experiment with a new drug using you as the subject.
Antibiotics and broad-spectrum antimicrobials, commonplace and even overused in later ages, could then be unimaginably expensive, selling like gold once produced, making their inventor the wealthiest person in the world. Thɪs chapter is updated by Novᴇl_Fire(.)net
So when Perfikot ordered all soldiers afflicted with colds, typhoid infections, and severe frostbite to be gathered in an empty warehouse for treatment, their display of panic, along with field medics sharpening knives and heating cauterizing rods, became understandable.
In this era, a better doctor might amputate a limb, while those less skilled might resort to bloodletting.
"Count! I have two kids at home! I can’t lose my leg! Please, don’t let the doctors saw off my leg! They can cut off my toes, but please don’t saw off my leg!" A soldier with frostbite on his feet was being carried into the warehouse on a stretcher, yet he tumbled off it, crawled to Perfikot, and pleaded bitterly.
The other soldiers nearby were mostly similar, expressing that their conditions were not severe enough and did not need treatment by the medics, begging not to be confined in the warehouse.
Perfikot was a bit bewildered, but when she saw the military doctor commanding assistants to tie a soldier to a chair, brandishing a gleaming scalpel, and donning a bloodstained apron ready to hack off the soldier’s arm, she hastily halted everything.
"He only has frostbite on his fingers, why are you cutting off his arm?" Perfikot yelled furiously, feeling that the medic’s standard was indeed questionable, enough to insult his entire family.
The military doctor, however, retorted confidently: "I’m treating his frostbite. The body fluids of his affected limbs have been contaminated, and if not removed in time, it could affect his entire body!"
"Fluid theory?" Perfikot’s expression became rather odd and regrettable, then she shook her head helplessly and pointed at the warehouse door, saying, "Get out, before I remove your head."
Witnessing the angry count and the steel-clad Steam Knight behind her, the medic felt disgruntled that she halted his treatment, but he grudgingly left.
Perfikot, after sending away the medic and freeing the soldier from the chair, took a deep sigh, and then instructed Captain White beside her: "Immediately go to Eagle’s Beak Cliff, find my head maid Beifa, and have her bring over the frostbite treatment I’ve mixed along with my maid team."
Captain White also realized Perfikot didn’t seem intent on having all the soldiers disposed of, so he quickly saluted and ran off.
Watching White leave, Perfikot contemplated and then had Lieutenant Mikhail brought over.
Lieutenant Mikhail had already tidied himself up in his military uniform, making a reasonable appearance when he stood before Perfikot as he saluted earnestly.
Except his uniform seemed a bit small, tautly stretched.
"Count, you were looking for me?" Mikhail stood before Perfikot and saluted her seriously.
"Hmm, you probably have some influence among the soldiers? I have a task for you. Now organize some smart and capable soldiers to look after the injured and sick concentrated in the warehouse, mainly by categorizing them based on their conditions: colds together, frostbite together, and particularly separate those with typhoid," Perfikot instructed Mikhail, feeling that unless things were made clear, it would inevitably be chaotic: "All soldiers must be cleaned, and ensure their bedding is clean, especially the laundry and bedding used by those infected with typhoid require separate cleaning."
Meanwhile, you must soothe those soldiers’ emotions, let them know they’re gathered for better treatment, not to be taken away for amputations.
Additionally, fetch a batch of spirits from the warehouse through Grandpa Fu, then use the spirits..."
Saying this, Perfikot suddenly paused, realizing the lieutenant before her was a Roshar, then shook her head, saying, "Forget it, to prevent you from sneaking a drink, I’ll leave the spirits matter to my head maid. Just focus on categorizing and settling the injured soldiers properly."
Lieutenant Mikhail noticeably gulped upon hearing Perfikot mention spirits, as a Roshar, he indeed loved drinking.
But since the count did not assign him the task, he said nothing further, and knowing there’s liquor in the warehouse was more than sufficient for a Roshar.
Of course, before eyeing the spirits in the warehouse, Mikhail dutifully noted down Perfikot’s assignments before leaving to rally soldiers to execute her orders.
Thanks to Lieutenant Mikhail’s efforts, the soldiers’ sentiments were quickly soothed, with the injured and sick gathered in the warehouse, categorized into separate areas.
He even arranged for a large amount of tent fabric, tying them with string to fashion partition curtains, used to demarcate different zones within the warehouse.
And it seemed his life experience in Hyponia endowed him with his remedy for treating frostbite.
He had some bullet and gun maintenance butter brought in, and applied the butter over the frostbitten areas of the sufferers.
According to Mikhail, this method is traditional among Hyponia locals, though the best remedy is a frostbite salve made from marmot oil, clearly unaffordable for an average soldier.