The procedure would begin at noon.
“Bandages, check! Salve, check!”
Maomao ticked off the supplies on her fingers for the umpteenth time.
They’d ground the medicine from the finest possible ingredients, making everything carefully to ensure there were no impurities. The bandages had been made from new cloth, torn into uniform pieces, and boiled to disinfect them.
Maomao was doing the final checks with Auntie Liu, as well as making sure the place was clean.
The Emperor’s resting chamber was likewise ready and waiting. The room where he would be after the surgery was, needless to say, a special place. It was no ordinary bedchamber, but had another room specially built adjacent to it. There would be a physician in attendance there at all times. If anything unusual occurred, day or night, they would be able to see to His Majesty immediately.
The room was almost entirely white, furnishings kept to a minimum and purely aesthetic decorations avoided. This would minimize the number of places dust could collect and make the place easy to clean.
The bed itself had been the object of particular care. It was stocked with pillows of the perfect firmness, not too soft and not too hard, in deference to the fact that the Emperor would not be able to turn very much in his sleep. The pillows were even stacked to support his body.
The most unusual thing was that there were two beds right next to each other. Why would they do that? It was because they would change the sheets every single day. Sweat and skin excretions could give rise to mold and insects. Bedding probably would have been fine for a few days at a time, but this was the Emperor they were talking about. To make sure he got the best rest possible, the sheets would be changed even if they were merely damp with sweat. Each time they were changed, the staff would have His Majesty moved to the other bed.
I wonder how much a superluxurious bed costs.
The beds were not lavishly accessorized, but Maomao wondered how many silk outfits could be made from even one of those canopies.
Initially, there had been a suggestion that there should be two entirely separate rooms, and that the Emperor should move between them while the sheets were changed and the cleaning done, but others objected that moving him was a risk, so this was the solution they had come to. In addition, ample attention would be paid to ventilation while cleaning, and care would be taken not to stir up too much dust.
All the palace physicians were of one resolve: Whatever happened, they would make sure the Emperor survived.
The surgical suite was adjacent to the bedchamber so that the Emperor could be moved immediately once the procedure was over. No expense had been spared if it would improve the odds of the surgery succeeding. Thanks to this arrangement, Maomao could see the Emperor lying there from where she was.
They had requested His Majesty to take no meals starting the day before, and already had him lying on the surgical table. They’d administered the anesthetic not long ago and also planned to use needles to dull the pain.
Choosing the right anesthetic sure was difficult.
They’d settled on a concoction focused on hemp, which had some addictive qualities but would not present issues as long as it wasn’t used long-term. Maomao wasn’t sure how much it would lessen the pain, but they would just have to ask the Emperor to endure what remained.
As far as Maomao could tell, the Emperor seemed calm.
Maybe Lady Ah-Duo was able to talk him around.
She didn’t know what kind of will he had left, but she was determined that it wouldn’t be necessary.
Something nagged at her, though.
Isn’t he a little too calm?
The Emperor looked oddly at peace, despite the fact that he had no makeup concealing his pallor.
“Everything look normal?” Maomao asked the physician checking the effect of the anesthetic.
“Yeah, pretty good.” The doctor seemed relieved, but Maomao was still unsettled.
Dr. Liu and Luomen were having their last discussion. They’d spoken to the Emperor briefly before the anesthetic had been administered.
He still looked like he was in pain then.
So the anesthetic was doing its job. That was good. But Maomao thought it had worked a little too quickly.
This seems oddly familiar.
She was almost sure she’d seen something written somewhere about when appendicitis pain abruptly receded.
I’m pretty sure it said...
“What’s the matter?” Auntie Liu asked Maomao.
“I’m sorry. I need to go back to the medical office. Is that all right?”
“Yes, it’s fine. We’re just about set here.”
“Thank you.”
Maomao hurried to the medical office. The postsurgical team was there, and looked startled when she burst in, out of breath.
“What’s going on?” asked Tall Senior.
“Wh... Where’s Kada’s Book?” Maomao gasped out.
“Over here.” One of the physicians took her to a room in the back. Ordinarily it was kept locked, so only authorized personnel could get in.
Maomao sank her proverbial teeth into the book.
“Hey! Not so rough, you’ll tear it!”
Maomao ignored the voice, looking desperately through the pages.
Not here... Not here either.
Where was it? Finally her eyes alighted on the sentence.
“When the appendix ruptures, pain may temporarily subside.”
“This is it!” she said, holding up the book triumphantly.
“I said, be gentle with that!” the physician cried, but Maomao showed him the page.
“I’m concerned about what it says here. Read this.”
“Easy for you to say...” The physician squinted at the characters, which were written in an unfamiliar style. “Hm? Something about the pain subsiding? We gave him the anesthetic. The pain shouldn’t be a problem.”
“I know. But don’t you think it should have taken a little longer for His Majesty’s pain to go away?” Maomao looked for the materials on the anesthesia experiments but couldn’t find them. “The anesthetic should take a little more time to kick in.”
The physician paused. “Maybe we should report it to Dr. Liu, just in case.”