"I don't want amputation... I would rather die here than have my leg amputated. Let's go and leave me alone!" The yelling suddenly sounded in the ward, bringing Li Hao back to reality from his meditation.
"The leg must be amputated, otherwise your life will not be saved!" the doctor advised anxiously.
"If you die, you will die. Rather than living a life like a pig or a dog after amputation, it is better to die happily now." The wounded man replied firmly.
The doctor was silent and replied with a long sigh: "I respect your decision."
"I will ask the nurse to clean your wound regularly every day. This is the only thing we can do. Whether you can survive it in the end depends on your own luck."
Seeing this, Li Hao frowned even deeper.
He turned to look at Xiao Yuan, wanting an explanation.
"Captain, he is another unlucky soldier. It's a pity that this tough-minded man did not die on the battlefield, but he lost to a few sulfonamide anti-inflammatory tablets that are more expensive than gold."
"Be clear?" Li Hao asked with a frown.
Xiao Yuan no longer concealed anything: "Captain, this soldier must have only injured his leg when he came in. Because there is a shortage of medicines, especially sulfa tablets that are as expensive as gold, they can only clean the wound and use Chinese herbal medicine to disinfect it to avoid wound inflammation."
"This method is too ineffective. Coupled with the hot weather, it is even more unfavorable for wound recovery. Every day, a large number of wounded people have to have their limbs amputated due to wound inflammation, or directly lose their lives. This soldier is very unlucky and his wounds are not well controlled.
, it’s inflamed.”
"That's pretty good. In the ten days or so since I've been in the hospital, at least twenty injured people have committed suicide because they didn't have painkillers, couldn't stand the pain caused by inflammation of the wound, or didn't want to have their limbs amputated, so they committed suicide while the doctor wasn't paying attention!"
In Li Hao's eyes, he always thought that only the Eighth Route Army was short of medicine. He did not expect that Chongqing would also be short of medicine, and it seemed to be more serious than the Eighth Route Army.
If he thought about it seriously, he would understand.
Although the Eighth Route Army is short of medicines, it can still relieve the pressure on medicines by seizing them on the battlefield, purchasing them from underground parties, or even substituting them with traditional Chinese medicines.
More importantly, the Eighth Route Army rarely engaged in positional warfare with the Japanese, and the casualties on the battlefield were obviously smaller.
It's different here in Chongqing.
They fought in positions, resulting in heavy casualties and few captures.
At the end of a battle, there may be thousands or tens of thousands of wounded.
Due to the continuous transfer, the domestic machinery and equipment for producing medicines have almost been lost. A large number of medicines needed by the wounded, especially Western medicines, are all purchased from outside.
The Japanese are obviously aware of this and have directly increased their blockade of various drugs.
As a result, there are only a handful of medicines available in Chongqing.
Medicines are limited, and in order to line their own pockets and make war profits, the upper echelons exploit them at every level. Many medicines are diverted to the black market and sold at high prices, and even fewer medicines are finally distributed to hospitals.
If Li Hao remembered correctly, during the most difficult period, there were even sulfonamide anti-inflammatory tablets and painkillers available to only five people in one division of the main force.
There is a shortage of medicines, so military doctors can only use them first on more valuable senior officers.
Only after they have used up can the lower officer's turn come.
When it comes to ordinary soldiers, the medicine is gone.
As a last resort, the hospital could only use the most primitive method, using a large amount of traditional Chinese medicine instead of western medicine.
When the weather is hot, the effect of traditional Chinese medicine is slow, especially when treating trauma.
As a result, many soldiers did not die on the battlefield, but in the end they fell because they did not have anti-inflammatory drugs, their wounds became inflamed, and they were defeated by a few small pills.
Until then, Li Hao finally understood a saying that had been circulating in the military.
I would rather die on the battlefield than be a wounded soldier.
Because once you are injured, your life is no longer yours.
Not only do you have to endure tremendous psychological suffering, but you also have to endure the tremendous physical pain caused by the disease. In the worst case, you may even have your limb amputated due to wound inflammation, or even lose your life directly.
"ah……"
Another scream came from the ward.
"It hurts too much. I don't want to live anymore... I have to have my leg amputated anyway, so it would be better to die..."
After saying that, a soldier dragged his injured right leg and slammed it against the brick wall next to him.
The sound stopped suddenly, and the soldier who hit the wall became silent for an instant and collapsed on the ground.
"Someone commits suicide, rescue him quickly!" the nearest doctor rushed over and shouted.
Several people carried them to the hospital bed together, and the doctor quickly checked the pupils, pulse, and heartbeat...
A few minutes later, he shook his head helplessly: "It's hopeless, let someone carry him out!"
"Another soldier died. It's so frustrating!" Xiao Yuan clenched his fists and cursed through gritted teeth, with an angry expression on his face.
Li Hao was also feeling aggrieved, and his anger was rising.
If it wasn't because I was sick and couldn't get angry, I would definitely have yelled at him on the spot.
I was so frustrated that I simply didn’t take the lives of ordinary soldiers seriously.
A few words popped up subconsciously in my mind: "Life is like a piece of grass."
"Let's go back!" Li Hao couldn't bear to continue reading.
The more I look at it, the more angry I feel, which is not conducive to the recovery of my wounds.
Back in the ward, facing the lunch that had been delivered, Li Hao felt like chewing wax and had no appetite at all.
Especially after thinking about the scene I just saw, I even felt guilty in my heart.
They are all soldiers who fight against the little devils on the battlefield. Why should their treatment be so different after being injured?
Of course, Li Hao also understood Chongqing's approach. Medicines were limited and could only be used by military officers first.
Ordinary soldiers are easy to train, and they will die when they die.
Qualified officers are different, especially mid-level and senior officers.
Not only must you go through systematic study, but you must also have rich combat experience.
If you die in the ward because there is no medicine, you will definitely not be able to train an equally capable officer without a few years.
Therefore, if we want to solve this problem, we must start from the outside.
Get more medicines.
As long as the quantity of medicines is large enough, the price is lowered, and supply exceeds demand, then they will eventually be used by ordinary soldiers.
Seeing Li Hao's face changing constantly and refusing to eat, Xiao Yuan knew that he had not yet recovered from what he had just seen.
After a moment of hesitation, he reminded: "Captain, don't think too much."
"Not only here, but every army in the country is in a similar situation, and our Eighth Route Army is no exception."
"Our garrison is doing pretty well, because we have captured a lot and can still supply western medicine."
"Other Eighth Route Army troops do not have this condition."
"Precious medicines must be sparingly used on critically ill patients. Most of the wounded use herbal medicine instead of Western medicine."
"During the operation, since there were no painkillers and anesthesia, I basically had to force myself to perform the surgery directly."
"Anti-inflammatory drugs are also very scarce. Although we pay great attention to the hygiene of the wounded, many wounded are still forced to have their limbs amputated or directly sacrificed due to wound inflammation."
Li Hao is a time traveler. After so many years of hard work, he has the capital to save his life.
Now that he saw the injured dying in pain and despair because there was no medicine, he felt that he should do something, otherwise he would be sorry for the time-travel opportunity God gave him, sorry for his limited knowledge, and sorry for his identity as a Chinese.
