Nineteenth Century Medical Guide

Chapter 491, Section 487: Desires Constrained by Principles
When Antonio stood at the door of the ward and saw the young doctor his assistant had mentioned sitting in his chair, looking down at the medical records, the doctor's arrogant and domineering demeanor became a tangible reality.

But what he didn't know was that only a small part of this arrogance and domineering nature was innate; the majority belonged to another person.

"I am the head of surgery here."

Antonio spoke calmly, but his steps were decisive. He strode up to the man and subtly expressed his displeasure through a highly offensive gesture that violated social distancing.

Of course, he didn't forget to introduce himself: "Antonio Santa Cruz, just call me Antonio. May I ask who you are, sir?"

The other person clearly sensed the pressure and the anger hidden beneath, and wisely put down the medical record, slowly standing up. Then he positioned himself at a suitable height, only half a head taller than Antonio, who was about 1.7 meters tall: "Begot von Celestine, Surgical Resident, Vienna City General Hospital."

With his thick High German accent, he was indeed Austrian, and his clothing and name indicated that he was a nobleman of high status.

Ever since reading that magazine, Antonio had developed a biased view of Austrian surgery, as if Austrian surgeons were a cut above those here. However, this bias thinned somewhat in the face of Bergert's attitude, and besides, he disliked the aristocracy intensely.

That affected manner, though seemingly elegant and natural, made him very uncomfortable: "So you're a colleague from Austria. Is there something you need?"

Bergert glanced at his assistant behind him in surprise, and immediately realized that the other man had asked the question on purpose.

In those few seconds, he reflected on his actions, realizing that he had revealed his true colors after leaving Kavi's shadow. Even when speaking the most ordinary truth, even when considering the optimal solution from an objective perspective, it could still create a psychological burden for others.
As a chief physician, Bergert was willing to maintain his composure and give the other party the most basic respect: "I'm sorry, I came too suddenly. But there is a reason. There was an accident in Constitution Square where bullfighting is performed. At least two bullfighters have suffered external injuries and need to receive immediate surgical treatment."

“I am a native Spaniard and I’ve seen this kind of thing before.”

Antonio smiled and gestured for them to proceed: "Since the patients have been brought here, they are patients of San Mattia Hospital, and I will take full responsibility for their treatment. Please don't trouble yourself with such a small matter; you can enjoy the scenery of this seaside town and continue to savor this precious holiday."

“No, Director, you’ve misunderstood.” The politeness that Bergett had been maintaining on his face disappeared. To avoid any misunderstanding, he directly stated the name of the mayor’s secretary, “This is the request of Mr. Ian, the mayor’s secretary.”

Antonio frowned slightly, his eyes sharpening: "He never intended to put the medical station here."

Bergett chuckled and joked, "Looks like he's changed his mind."

"Impossible. The mayor's clinic, which specializes in treating falls and fractures, is waiting for these juicy pieces to come knocking on its door so it can make a killing."

"No wonder."

Bergert didn't want to argue with him any longer: "I think a rib fracture combined with pneumothorax is beyond your scope of treatment. After all, it takes five whole days to prepare even a routine appendectomy, which is unimaginable in Vienna."

Seeing him poke at the medical record on the table with his finger, the intangible gap on the magazine pages seemed to take on a human form and stand before him.

Undeniably, the much younger resident, exuding a Viennese air of superiority, seemed to know more about appendectomy than he did. Everything made sense; the other man certainly had the right to be superior. If Antonio could successfully perform this appendectomy today, he might even consider himself Spain's foremost surgeon.
But reality was so cold, so cold that the air in the ward seemed to freeze, making it hard for Antonio to breathe.

"We need a proper surgical theater, preferably without an audience, with thorough disinfection procedures, at least five nurses and two surgeons as assistants. We also need at least ten basins of boiled and cooled water, preferably tap water, but well water will also work. Then there's clean gauze and sterilization supplies."

Antonio stood aside, listening to the speech that went far beyond what a normal resident doctor should be giving, and for a moment he didn't have the courage to interrupt him.

Then look at his assistant, who has been a surgeon for three years and is also a resident physician, but his abilities are far inferior.

He knew he couldn't refute the argument with surgical theory, so he had to change his approach. Whether intentionally or unintentionally, he changed how he addressed the other person: "Dr. Bergter, in Vienna, can a resident physician just barge into another hospital like you and order the chief physician to vacate the operating room?"

Begot paused for a moment, his mind flashing back to his experiences over the years, then nodded seriously: "As long as the strength allows, of course."

"Are you kidding me? You're just a resident! How could you handle a pneumothorax?"

“I’ve handled a few cases, but only simple pneumothorax. The patient has a rib fracture, and considering the possibility of fracture displacement, I’m not qualified to handle it,” Bergter said helplessly. “After all, my surgical skills are among the worst in Vienna’s General Hospital.”

Counting down?
How could a young man who seemed overly hesitant in his decision-making be ranked last?
Antonio's mind was a bit of a mess, no longer allowing him to think things through. But one name seemed familiar, as if he'd seen it somewhere before: "Wait, the Municipal General Hospital? Vienna's Municipal General Hospital?"

"Correct."

"Dr. Kavi... Oh no, is Professor Kavi Hines here?"

"Yes, you're right."

Bergert hadn't expected that the surgeon in this small harbor town knew about Kavi. If he had known, he should have just brought Kavi out directly, which would have saved him a lot of trouble: "Since you know Dr. Kavi, that makes things easier. Both surgeries will be performed by Dr. Kavi, is that alright, Chief Physician?"

Antonio clutched his head, unable to believe his ears. "It really is Dr. Cavill? No problem, absolutely no problem!"

Sometimes, the turning point in life comes so suddenly, as if it were a gift from God. Once we gladly accept this gift, we tend to overlook the trouble hidden behind it, commonly known as a "pitfall."

In the 19th century, surgery was not as standardized as modern medicine; surgeons outside the hospital could perform surgeries simply by communicating verbally.

Unfortunately, Santa Mattia Hospital was built with private donations. In name only, everything from the bricks and walls to every blade of grass and tree belongs to the owner behind the scenes.

Antonio, a specially appointed surgeon, had very little influence in administrative decision-making.

On weekdays, after noon, the hospital director usually chooses to go home to rest, since there aren't many patients in a small town. As long as he's not around, things like having an outsider perform the surgery can be easily dealt with by simply faking it.

Unfortunately, there's an appendectomy scheduled for today, and Antonio specifically kept the patient on duty yesterday.

As the time drew near, the hospital director went to the operating room but found it empty. He then went to the ward and happened to see Antonio bowing and scraping to a stranger. After learning what had happened, Bergette was asked to leave the ward and had to wait for Kavi in ​​the corridor. The atmosphere in the ward became extremely tense. The director paced back and forth angrily, hands on his hips. Antonio, on the other hand, hesitated, unsure of what to say.

"Tony, have you forgotten what happened last time?"

After thinking for a long time, the hospital director brought up this old story again, pouring cold water on the head of surgery: "I swore after our last talk that I would never take on their mess. Don't mention that secretary or that fat guy who only knows how to make money in front of me again, not a single word!"

Antonio clenched his fist, slowly walked to his desk, and decided to try again using Cavie's name.

“Professor Kave Hines, you probably haven’t heard of him.”

He smiled wryly and said, "But you should know that at the medical conference held in Paris three years ago, he single-handedly propelled Vienna to the pinnacle of surgery. Now, when people mention Vienna, many may think of music, but doctors will first think of Kavi and his surgical techniques."

“I am also a doctor, a legitimate doctor from the Zaragoza Medical School, and I have never heard of this person.”

The dean took off his glasses and asked the nun for a drink: "I don't care who he is, as long as he's associated with those two guys, it's unacceptable."

"But his surgery."

“I didn’t stop him from having the surgery; he could have easily gone somewhere else.” The dean’s eyebrows furrowed into a V-shape, and he shrugged. “Oh, so it’s because there’s no other hospital in all of San Sebastián with a qualified surgical theater. Well, then there’s nothing I can do.”

"Alvaro! You, you've gone too far!"

"I'm being unreasonable?" The hospital director jumped up in anger, like a child wrongly accused of stealing candy. "You're the one who's unreasonable! Giving away your surgical field like that? Where's your self-respect as a surgeon? Besides, who pays your salary? Ian? Or that incompetent mayor? It's this hospital!!!"

He leaned against the table, slapping it repeatedly with his palm. The sound wasn't loud, but the rhythm was rapid, and combined with his astonishingly fast Spanish accent, it was incredibly irritating to listeners: "I only report to the boss; they're not welcome here. You only report to me, so get them out of here!"

If it were someone else, there would be no need for the dean to remind him; he would have already asked them to leave.

The problem is that the man is Kavi, the Kavi Hines he so admires, a groundbreaking genius in the field of surgery.

Just reading articles in magazines has raised his skill level to what it is now; if only we could see him play up close.
The seed of desire had long been planted in his heart, and now it had suddenly sprouted and grown. The only chance of his life was right in front of him, and Antonio could not give it up.

The more forceful the dean was, the more he felt an urge to simply resign; after all, he could perform surgery in a quiet, clean room. But there was only one Kavi, and no matter what happened, he was determined to stick with him!
A series of urgent knocks on the door interrupted this thought.

"Who is it? I'm busy right now!!!"

"it's me."

The voice slipped through the crack in the door and into their ears. Before they could react, the person pushed the door open and walked in: "Long time no see, you two."

"roll!"

Alvaro rushed over, completely abandoning the decorum expected of an internist, and launched into a tirade of profanities, practically spitting all over his face: "Dogs aren't welcome here, especially stray dogs that wag their tails and beg for money!"

Ian leaned against the door, turning his face away and using his hands to shield the other person as he explained, "Both of them are seriously injured, beyond the scope of ordinary external injuries. I need to save their lives. Otherwise..."

"What else? There won't be another bullfight, will there?" Alvaro laughed heartily. "Serves you right, who told you to go back on your word? The hospital was built, but you won't give a single penny of the subsidy, giving it all to that clinic."

"You can't blame Mr. Mayor. Your head of surgery himself agreed to the competition to decide the winner. He lost the competition, and he lost it completely, so this is the natural result."

Ian glanced at Antonio, stifling Antonio's attempt to argue, then forcefully shoved Alvaro aside, unbuttoned his shirt collar, and continued his counterattack:

"Dean, it's not that we didn't give you a chance back then; it was your own choice to invest in this hospital. Investment always carries risks, and losing money is perfectly normal."

"Nonsense! This is clearly the only hospital with a surgical theater; the matador should have been sent here for treatment!"

"I was just stating the facts, I didn't mean any harm."

Since things had come to this, Ian had no intention of continuing the confrontation: "We'll perform the surgery, and we'll be responsible for all the equipment and medications. You only need to provide assistants and the venue; you don't need to be responsible for anything else. In return, all medical expenses will be yours; we won't take a penny. Surely you won't have any objections to this arrangement?"

"Now that the person has been brought here, what about the promised subsidy?"

Ian sighed, pursed his chapped lips, and shook his head, saying, "This money... after all, it's five years' worth of fees, it's impossible."

Alvaro gave a light hum and opened the ward door: "Take care."

To everyone's surprise, a young man stood at the door. He had an unusually youthful face, even younger than Alvaro's nephew who had just started taking anatomy classes at the Zaragoza Medical School.

Furthermore, none of it fits the word "young".

His coat was old, with dust on the hem, and his shirt was wrinkled. His familiar equipment case lay at his feet. Just standing in the doorway, his confident and unquestionable aura overshadowed everyone else, as if everything was under his control.

Seeing the door open, he raised his right hand, which he had been about to knock on, took off his hat, and then, as usual, looked around the ward, meeting everyone's gaze.

His gaze swept over the tense standoff between Ian and Alvaro, and he asked, "Secretary, is there any result? I'm in a hurry."