Nineteenth Century Medical Guide

Chapter 438 434. City of Light

What Kawi was going to do was completely unknown to the three of them, but it was undeniable that this matter was related to their work.

Regardless of whether he agreed or not, this incident at least overturned the original image of Kavey in the minds of the three people. Now he is no longer a young surgeon who is not interested in the world and only knows how to immerse himself in surgery, but a medical scientist with great ambitions who wants to climb up the ladder.

“You actually want to publish a medical journal?”

Varela was very surprised. Thinking about the mess of medical-related newspapers and books on the market, he tried to ask, "Whose name are you going to use? The Vienna Surgical Association? The Paris Medical Association? Or the Medical School? I remember that the Medical School has magazine editors. You can ask them. Maybe we can cooperate."

"I don't want to cooperate." Kavi took a sip of wine and pointed his finger at himself. "Since this is the magazine I founded, of course it should be published under my own name."

If it were two years ago, Varela would have definitely scolded him for being too arrogant and not even having the last bit of basic self-awareness. But now the situation is different. In the past two years, Kawi's skills have been proven by everyone. In today's surgical community, the name "Kavi" is a guarantee of successful surgery. It seems that there is no one more convincing than Kawi.

"To be honest, although the newspaper also has a magazine business, I have never done it, and Greg has never done it either."

Varela first stated his point of view: "Although we are surgical journalists, we are not working doctors after all, and we have not systematically studied medical knowledge. Of course, we know a lot of doctors, and it is not impossible to commission articles. But how do we deal with the manuscripts on a daily basis? Even if you become the editor-in-chief, you will need several editors to review the manuscripts together."

"I am the editor-in-chief, but you said editor." Kavi shook his head. "I don't need an editor for now, and I don't need you to handle it."

"What about the manuscript? You are so busy, running back and forth between several places. Why don't you reply to the manuscript you sent me? Or do you just send it out without reviewing it?"

Kavi smiled and waved his hands: "Where are other people's manuscripts? I guess we can only publish one issue of the magazine in the first six months, and it will only contain my articles."

"what?"

"Are you alone?"

The idea was very bold, even a little arrogant, but it allowed the three of them to see the future at a glance.

They could all imagine the scene after the magazine was published. The income from medical fields alone would be astronomical. Surgeons from all over the world, in Paris, Zurich, Berlin, London, and New York, would need this journal, which was like a surgical guide. The value of Cavey's surgery would be as high as his journal, and even higher because of the sketches and details in it.

The necessary factor to support this idea is that the medical tree of Kawi can continue to thrive.

The most important thing for a magazine is the source of manuscripts, especially high-quality manuscripts. The quality of Kavi's articles is absolutely first-rate. With him as a foundation, other scholars will naturally come to submit articles. Even if there are no articles from other scholars, Kavi's own articles alone are enough.

Varela and Greg were so convinced that they agreed before the meal was even over.

But Mayer is different from the two journalists who just left their comfort zones. His base has always been in the social circle. Changing his career path completely disrupted his life plan: "To be honest, I am not very willing to change my career."

"I thought you kept asking me for an interview because you were interested in surgery." Kavi hadn't thought of that, but it didn't matter. He just treated it as making friends. "It's okay. You have plenty of time to think about it. I won't be able to calm down and write until I finish the aneurysm surgery, which will take about three months."

Mayer knew this was an opportunity.

As Varela said when he left the restaurant, the innovative surgical procedures of Kavi in ​​the past two years were enough to create a good reputation for the magazine and attract a large number of surgeons to contribute. Even if Kavi did nothing afterwards, it would be enough for the magazine to survive for a long time.

The problem is that no one would believe that such a talented surgeon with such a long list of achievements would do nothing for the next few decades.

"I will think about it."

It was just a small thing after finishing the surgery.

Cavey was fed up with the lengthy manuscript submission and review process, and his ideas were too far beyond the mainstream medical theories, so many of his ideas were rejected and asked to be revised. Email communication without the support of the Internet was simply torture, so it was imperative to start his own journal.

If you judge yourself, there won't be so many messy things.

But now is not the right time, he just mentioned it casually, the final implementation time and the content published in the magazine have not been decided yet, and there is only a verbal agreement with these three people.

Cavey's focus these days is still on Little John's post-operative management and the aneurysm experiment.

Perhaps he inherited his mother's physical condition, John's vital signs were very stable after the operation. Only his body temperature rose slightly, but it only lasted for three or four days before returning to normal levels.

After such a major surgery on the rectum and anus, it takes time to rest and fast. The anal canal is also to allow the anastomosis to recover properly, but the duration of both should not be too long. Breastfeeding was allowed in the afternoon of the second day after the operation, and the feces overflowing from the anus was handed over to the nursing staff to deal with.

They need to keep the area around the anus clean and dry. After the anastomosis is completely healed, they also need to choose a suitable anal dilator to dilate the anus to prevent scarring from forming on the incision and causing stenosis.

These are not a big deal. The real problem is who will be John's guardian.

Shilina died of a severe lung infection, and John has become an orphan. Landreth had taken on this hot potato so that he could participate in the entire operation. Now that the operation is over and the postoperative care is almost over, it is natural for him to return the potato to Kawi.

Kavi was used to being alone, so it was impossible for him to adopt a child, and of course he would not leave the child in the ward of the Hospital Main Palace. In the end, after a lot of twists and turns, he had to hand it over to Osman to deal with it.

"It was you who asked me to save his mother."

While welcoming Franz and Elizabeth to Paris, Kavi found Haussmann at the train station: "Now the mother has been saved, the child has been born, and even the anal reconstruction surgery has been completed. The care is almost done, and the child is fine. You can finally take responsibility."

Osman, who was always cold and resolute, had no good solution when faced with the child's problem: "If, I mean if, I send him to an orphanage."

"That's your problem."

Kavi buried his head in the newspaper and didn't even look at his face: "Let me just say one thing. The operation has been over for two weeks, but the heat in the newspapers has not completely subsided. Little John has now become an iconic figure in pediatric surgery. Many people will keep an eye on his daily life and follow up on it, even surgeons like Landreth, and of course me." This is not moral kidnapping of Osman.

Pediatric surgery places great emphasis on postoperative recovery and prognosis, which is directly related to the completion of the entire operation. The operation performed by Kawi was not easy, and at least in the short term, the surgical community in Paris would not risk doing this operation. John became the only one who could determine whether the operation was successful or not.

Of course, another way is to let Kavi make a few more machines, but his attention is now fully focused on the experiment and he can't take care of these at all.

Under such circumstances, if Osman, who saved the mother and child, does not take care of the child, many media outlets will point the finger at this man. Of course, there is nothing wrong with saving the child, but if they exaggerate and attribute Shirina's death to the demolition of the old city of Paris, then Osman will be the murderer of the newborn and the historical sinner who destroyed the development of pediatric surgery.
"Hey, you're exaggerating." Osman leaned against the wall, smoking his pipe and holding a newspaper. "I'm never afraid of threats. Over the past decade or so, I've been called a historical sinner every day. I've gotten used to it."

"Is that right?"

"Why don't you go and ask around?"

Kavi knew that he was stubborn, so he could only say it another way: "Think about it another way. If you adopt him, take good care of him, and raise him, what will the outside world say? Now they certainly won't say how good you are, and they may even continue to slander you. But what if the entire reconstruction of Paris is completed? What if you resign from your senior position? Naturally, someone will stand up and speak for you."

Osman did not refute immediately, obviously he was moved by this argument, but he still had reasons for not doing it: "First, the second phase of the drinking water project is about to start, I don't have time; second, I don't have the spare money to hire a nanny to take care of his daily life. Third, I am 58 years old, can I take him home and raise him as my grandson?"

"That's good. I think it's good. It can enrich your retirement life." Kawi said, "As for the nanny, I think the full-time nurses at the Divine Palace Hospital are better."

"Haha. I don't want to chat with you anymore. I have other things to do." Osman ignored him and looked around at the train station. "The royal train should be arriving soon. I have to discuss security issues with Henry."

"security?"

These two words reminded Kawi of Mick, whom he hadn't seen since the last checkup revealed a digestive tract tumor. He could have asked the men in black about Mick's condition, but now even the men in black had withdrawn.

Of course he hated Mick, he was like a piece of sticky candy and couldn't get rid of him, and he had been bothering her for the past two years. But he didn't want a living person to give up treatment just because he didn't want to have surgery. After all, it was their first match, and having him around would make them feel more secure.

"Austria's security system is still good, you don't have to worry about it." Kavi also glanced around. With years of experience in fighting wits and courage with those guys, he immediately found a few suspected guys. "Besides, Director Henry is efficient, there is no need for a senior official like you to worry about him."

"He is efficient, but recently he seems to be working too hard, like someone who has been given a shot of chicken blood." Osman looked a little unhappy, and took out his pocket watch to check the time: "No, I always feel uneasy."

He couldn't help but flip through the newspaper he had just read. There were several pages in it that focused on the recent rampant theft. Although the police station worked around the clock, many stolen goods were recovered and people were successfully arrested, but there were always some that were missed.

Kavi didn't take it too seriously, thinking he was just making an excuse to leave.

Anyway, John's butt still needs a certain degree of care, so keeping him in the hospital is also a solution, but it is inevitable that Landreth will have to talk more. Unlike Osman, who is stubborn, this guy's needs are well understood by Kawi. Whether it is Chinese character translation or the surgery that just ended, Kawi has plenty of ways to make him keep John.

But it won't work without a guardian.
Just as Kawi was about to find a man in black to ask about Mick's condition, a familiar voice suddenly came from behind him: "Doctor Kawi~"

"His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales." Kavi bowed slightly.

"Don't be so polite. Just call me Bertie." The man smiled and patted his shoulder, acting like an old friend. "You're really hard to find. I went to the hotel to look for you the day after the operation, but I found you empty. Three days later, I went to the lab, but you weren't there. Three days later, I gave up. I shouldn't have gone out of my way to look for you."

"I am so sorry to waste your time."

"Oh, it's just time. I have plenty of it."

Kavi glanced at the girl next to him, who was estimated to be around 25 or 26 years old.

She was half a head shorter than Venice, and her figure was smaller. Her temperament was not as good as the fashionable queen who was flirting with Grand Duke Vladimir not far away, but her clothes were no worse. She wore a chinchilla cape on her shoulders, a gold tiara inlaid with rubies, and a blood-red court dress, which was probably all the work of the Prince of Wales.

Bertie seemed to see what Kawi was thinking, and smiled as he came forward and asked, "Why? Are you attracted to her?"

"I'm not interested." Kavi waved his hand.

"Wait, haven't you seen her?"

Kavi felt strange: "I haven't seen it before, what's wrong?"

"You are also a count in Vienna. You should attend more parties. It's boring to stay in the laboratory and the operating theater." Bertie said while proudly kissing the woman on the face. "She is the fourth wife that Baron Henry de Morny married three years ago. She has the same name as Empress Austria and is also called Elizabeth. She is very beautiful."

People with the same name are very common in Europe. Women named Elizabeth are as numerous as wild flowers in the park and can be seen everywhere on the streets.

But Henry.
"Baron Henry?" Kavi paused for a long time before asking, "Wait, you are not talking about Director Henry?"

"Wrong!" Bertie corrected. "Acting Director."

"I understand." Kavi really couldn't stand such complicated interpersonal relationships and could only stay away from them.

"No! You don't understand!"

Unexpectedly, Viscount Lytton stepped forward and insisted on explaining the matter clearly: "His Royal Highness never steals or robs. This is a matter of mutual consent. If you don't believe me, you can go to the entrance of the train station and ask him in person. When he saw us at the entrance, he was so happy that he was afraid that others would not know that this was his wife."

Kavi: Huh???

At this time, the whistle sounded from far away, and the Austrian royal train slowly drove towards the Paris train station like a giant python. The platform, which was quiet just now, suddenly became lively. The welcoming team lined up in a long line, waving the new Austro-Hungarian flag in their hands. The train entered the station and stopped at the platform. The deafening sound of the tracks accompanied by the spray of white mist covered everyone's body, clearing out all the dirt in their ears.

Franz and his wife finally ended their six-month trip to Budapest and came to Paris.