Chapter 2944: with translation of chapter title

Although Doctor Karl did not approve of this treatment, he still sat attentively by the bedside, caring for Xiao Shitou together with his team.

Bota Private Hospital offered a sufficiently high fee; once this little patient passed away, Karl could rest for a year, he thought to himself. Blowing in the Mediterranean wind, eating the red shrimp of Sicily, life was just this perfect.

He was a diagnostic specialist at Munich University Hospital, a top‑tier doctor in Europe. Bota had brought him in at a princely sum.

The patient's condition was severe, and Doctor Karl had few options; several preliminary diagnoses remained unresolved, with none confirmed as the correct one.

In Karl's view, this poor child was already on the brink of death. Especially after Doctor Zheng, who had won a Nobel Prize for his clinical technique, arrived, he actually fainted and merely gave a hasty treatment with octreotide.

To Karl, this seemed utterly irresponsible and without reason.

But he raised no objection; the patron could do as he wished, and it had nothing to do with him. Working and earning money were what mattered most.

The night grew deeper, the woods pitch‑black; occasionally a bird would start awake for no reason, leaving a faint cry.

Karl disliked darkness; he preferred sunshine, especially enjoying the Mediterranean sea breeze on the beach and basking in the sun.

Compared to a Holiday, now it felt like purgatory. But without purgatory, the vacation mood wouldn't be good either.

It would be better for this child to leave early; he was already in late‑stage cancer, and drug treatment had provoked greater side effects—living was a luxury for him. Karl thought this as he watched Xiao Shitou breathing with the aid of the ventilator.

The medical records provided by Bota were incomplete; even after signing a confidentiality agreement, the core drug was still not revealed. Karl knew what that meant—the drug used to treat this little patient's tumor was the newest.

Indeed, looking at various indicators, after the drug injection tumor markers kept falling, and DeepMACT showed circulating tumor cells decreasing by orders of magnitude.

Just as dawn was approaching, an odd change occurred unexpectedly.

The human body is truly complex; this study needs further investigation. If the lung changes stem from the patient's own disease progression, that's understandable, but if the previously injected drug stimulated the tumor cells to mutate, then the whole research would be proven a failure.

Watching the poor child and his mother, Karl's gaze fell on the micro‑pump at the bedside that was continuously infusing octreotide with milligram precision.

This is a psychological placebo—not to comfort the patient, but to give the doctor psychological treatment.

Doctor Zheng is really young—much younger than he appeared in the photos released by the Nobel Prize committee. But he seemed overly attached to this child, and in the end…

Ah, Doctor Karl sighed, hoping that after administering a treatment of little use, Doctor Zheng would feel a bit better inside.

This is something that must be endured; facing each disease that has plagued humanity for countless years, each attempt requires a heart as hard as stone, even if the cost is the patient's life.

Actually, cancer now looks terrifying, with countless deaths, but compared to the old pulmonary tuberculosis, it's really just the same.

Pulmonary tuberculosis used to be called "Captain of All These Men of Death," that is, humanity's death captain. Karl stared expressionlessly at the child's monitoring figures, his mind wandering.

For this disease, pulmonary tuberculosis, humanity has nearly exhausted all treatment methods.

In medieval Britain and France, pulmonary tuberculosis was also called "king's evil," meaning the king's evil. As for why it was the king, that involves deeper reasons.

With this name came a treatment—the king's touch. People believed that if the king laid his hand on a scrofulous lymph node, the disease would be cured. This therapy persisted in Britain until the 18th century and in France until the 19th.

As humanity entered the steam age, civilization began to advance by leaps and bounds, and research and treatment of tuberculosis accelerated accordingly.

Sanatoria, thoracoplasty, and so on—even electroconvulsive therapy… among these attempts, which one did not kill countless patients?

Doctor Zheng is truly unsuited to be a scientist; regardless of whether his theory is solid and he possesses hands kissed by Heaven, this "fragile" mindset has already eliminated him. Without a cold heart, how could one achieve anything in disease research!

Karl thought to himself, as a clinical physician one needs a sympathetic heart, but as a researcher seeking the correct way to overcome disease among countless paths, lacking a ruthless heart is absolutely unacceptable.

"Karl, four hours after the octreotide injection, the watery sputum began to decrease." said Karl's assistant, also his friend, after looking at the record.

"Just transient." Doctor Karl said firmly, "Fluctuations in the condition, plasma fluid shifts—such small variations happen all the time. Believe me, this certainly has nothing to do with octreotide."

His assistant shrugged, not engaging in an argument with Karl.

"It's not pancreatitis; the sole purpose of this octapeptide drug is to show we're still treating. As for why not use the hexadecapeptide, I suppose Doctor Zheng is just feeling nostalgic." Karl said with a hint of mockery.

But the fact turned out contrary to Karl's expectation.

Secretions exceeding 100ml per hour quickly dropped to about 80ml per hour after octreotide was pumped into the Vein.

As the drug concentration peaked, the secreted watery sputum decreased further.

Each hour it fell by roughly 5-10ml; if the numbers were plotted, the line would be smooth enough to slide downward.

At the tenth hour, the watery sputum had dropped to about 10ml per hour.

Although sputum was still present, Karl realized that this mucus overflow had been initially checked by the action of octreotide.

As the watery sputum diminished, Xiao Shitou's vital signs gradually recovered; the ventilator's oxygen supply was reduced from 100% pure oxygen to about 75% concentration.

Blood oxygen saturation also began to rise slowly, reaching about 95%.

All this proved that Doctor Zheng's treatment plan was correct.

Looking at the numbers on the instruments before him and at the monitoring indicators recorded every fifteen minutes on the sheet in his hand, Karl fell into thought.

Octreotide not only treats acral hypertrophy and pancreatic secretion, but could it also treat this strange condition before us?

Good heavens! What on earth is going on!

……

……

Note: Literature cited from NicoleL. Roeder, et al. AWomaninHer60sWithLungAdenocarcinomaPresentsWithCopiousWaterySputumandRespiratoryFailure. 2017.152(6): e143–e146