"What did you... just say?"
"I said it seems like diabetes, so please collect your urine in this."
Sir Jamie was looking down at the cup I had offered and he had taken, with an expression of extreme distaste.
It was a metal cup.
Actually, if you go to my lab, there is some Chinese porcelain that Alfred's father gave me as a gift, but doesn't 19th-century Chinese feel very different from 21st-century Chinese?
I'm still not fully adjusted, but in the 19th century, 'Made in China' had an image of luxury.
Well… that porcelain is also quite beautifully made, I suppose.
'The Chinese products I know are a real hell…'
There was baby formula that could kill you if you consumed it wrong, kimchi made by stepping on it with feet, dumplings made from newspaper…
I didn't search for it because there were no computers.
Even now, over a decade since reincarnation, just listing what briefly comes to mind amounts to this much.
But 'Made in China' here means premium.
"Well… I see. But what do you intend to do with that?"
"We need to see if it's diabetes or not."
"Hoh, there's a method for that? Truly a Joseon man, you are."
"Well… Yes, there is such a method."
Anyway, Sir Jamie soon went out.
He'd been saying all along since earlier that he needed to urinate frequently, and it seems he wasn't lying, as he didn't say things like it probably won't come out now or whatnot.
Ah, one might wonder how he knows the term 'diabetes'.
Isn't the 19th century such an uncivilized era?
But surprisingly, we humans have recognized diabetes for a very long time.
In Joseon, it was called 'sogalbyeong' (thirst disease), and if you follow the records back, they probably knew about the disease called diabetes even in ancient times.
And they likely thought it was a much more serious disease than we realize.
"Is it truly diabetes? This is a serious matter, isn't it?"
Sir Damian, who had remained in the room (apparently not close enough to follow him to the toilet), had a dark expression.
It was understandable.
First of all, diagnosis of diabetes at this time is terribly late.
There's no way to test blood sugar, right?
Because of that, many already had complications by the time of diagnosis.
I don't have exact statistics, but surprisingly, since Liston sees the most diabetic patients at our hospital, I roughly learned that they usually die within 10 years, maybe.
Long before that, they either have their legs amputated or die during the amputation.
"A serious matter… it is."
I wanted to say, "Not at a time like this! I have all the methods!" but…
I can't.
Why?
Because there's no insulin.
The best treatment I can offer now is dietary control and exercise.
Well… judging by the behavior of people in this era, just doing those two would be quite helpful.
For laborers, the problem is they eat too little, so it wouldn't apply to them, but honestly, quite a few nobles are obese.
First, overeating is a problem, but the main issue is the complete lack of caution regarding sugar consumption.
Sugar is an expensive item, you see?
As if to prove it's a capitalist—no, a money-worshipping society—there's a perception that expensive things are unconditionally better. Maybe that's why they love it so much.
Actually, given that many of them wouldn't hesitate to eat arsenic cake, sugar isn't the only problem.
"Do you also have no method?"
"It's not that I have none at all, but it's not a disease that can be treated with surgery…"
"I suppose that's true. My goodness, this is a serious matter. Jamie might look like that, but he is a man of great help to our British Empire. He has much to do in the future… My nephew is still young, you see."
"We don't yet know if your nephew's issue is due to diabetes or his prostate. I would need to see him myself to say anything definitive."
"No? Can't a great doctor like you diagnose it just by hearing it?"
If a diagnosis could be made just by hearing it, that would make one a shaman, not a doctor.
I felt like hitting him once, but since he's a Duke, smiling was the best I could do.
Probably even Liston would be the same in this situation.
Liston controls his anger surprisingly well in front of powerful people.
"I apologize. I will strive to improve. However, if you bring him to me or give me the opportunity for a house call, I will do my best."
"Apologies, what nonsense, haha. Liston, weren't you mistaken? You said he has a demonic side sometimes, but isn't he too gentle?"
"Hahaha. You just don't know him well enough. If you see him more often… Don't you know about the arsenic execution this time?"
"Ah, that. I heard Jamie hasn't been sleeping well since then. He even went to war in his prime, but I guess watching a person die slowly before his eyes was hard on him. Anyway, I'll entrust my nephew to you later. For now, let's focus on Jamie."
"Yes, Your Grace."
There was a slightly strange conversation in the middle, but I decided to let it pass.
Arsenic…
Yeah, even I think that was a bit much.
But it was unavoidable.
It was a sacrifice to save more people.
"Here, I've brought it."
While we were socializing like that, Sir Jamie had produced a thick liquid and brought it back.
Only upon seeing it did I realize, 'Oops.'
'I should have told him to collect a mid-stream sample…'
Evidence.
Judging by the splatter marks around the cup, it seems he started collecting from the beginning and then clumsily pulled away mid-stream.
Meaning bacteria might have contaminated it.
Actually, it was fine.
How would I even detect that?
"But why did you tell me to bring this? Is there some method?"
Sir Jamie seemed uncomfortable having his urine prominently placed on the table like this and kept wanting to move it.
So he kept pressing me.
Thus, I had to hurriedly call for Alfred.
I don't like doing this either, but Sir Jamie insisted, so what could I do?
"Why me…?"
"First, let me explain."
"Uh… Alright. Go ahead."
I began speaking with a bewildered Alfred by my side.
Although he's a surgeon, diabetes is such an important disease that he knows it quite well.
Besides, there's no need to go too deep academically, right?
I just needed to make them understand that if you get this, you're screwed.
"So… diabetes. The diagnostic name originates from sugar (dia) being mixed in the urine (betes), correct?"
"That's right."
"But if you look closely, it's not just in the urine. In Joseon, there is this saying:"
"Joseon, you say. If it's from Joseon, it must be believable."
I wonder what kind of country Joseon is in these people's minds.
It's unknowable.
If I get found out later…
I don't know.
Let's leave it for future me to handle.
"Have you ever heard the saying that mosquitoes like the blood of someone who passes sweet urine?"
"Ah… no. This is the first I'm hearing it."
"There are many observant people in Joseon, hence this saying exists."
"Hoho. But is that true? If so, why is that?"
"The blood is sweet too. This sugar is also in the blood."
"Hoho."
"Look at things like sugar water or honey. They're sticky, right?"
"They are sticky. No, so you're saying my blood is in that state?"
It doesn't actually get that bad.
If his blood had turned honey-like, he'd be dead already.
But who cares?
Once you start a lie, you must see it through to the end.
"It's possible, you see. So… what happens if our blood stops?"
"We die. I know that."
"Yes, correct. If blood stops, you die. Even if not that…"
"Your feet rot."
This time, it was Liston who interjected, who could be considered the world's foremost authority on diabetic foot, if not in Britain then in the world.
"Yes, Brother is correct. Didn't you say that people who get amputated due to injury and those who get amputated due to diabetic foot are somewhat different?"
"Yes, definitely different. Back when there was no anesthesia, we were too busy cutting quickly to notice, but now I see a bit. Then you notice… the state of the blood vessels is different. Sometimes they are blocked. Those people, when I see them later, all pass sweet urine without exception. Huh? So that's why? They seem to die easily too… Ah, I'm not saying Your Grace will die."
Getting excited talking about something he knows well, he accidentally misspoke slightly.
It seemed like it would be okay, though.
Sir Jamie already seemed out of his mind.
If someone hears their blood is like honey and remains composed, are they even human?
In the past, he would have raged, calling us quacks, and gone to a real quack like Harry…
But Sir Jamie has already repeatedly witnessed my greatness too many times for that.
"What should I do! Save me. I still have far too much to do."
"I know. Aren't the things Sir Jamie must do for the British Empire numerous? Moreover, we haven't even confirmed the diabetes diagnosis yet, right? We need to check."
"Aha, that's right! Yes! It might not be! Hurry and diagnose it."
"Yes. Alfred?"
Did he sense something?
Instead of answering, Alfred tried to quickly leave.
But he was stopped by Liston.
"Can you tell if the urine is sweet or not?"
"Thi…"
"No, you. Had I known this, I wouldn't have stopped you."
At my following words, Liston, who was restraining him, stopped, but the problem was Sir Jamie, who had reached a state of desperation.
"Please, I beg you. Please. Just taste it once."
This is the epitome of power abuse.
Telling someone to drink his urine.
"You… motherf—"
But the dignity of a Duke is solemn.
Alfred didn't dare say anything to the Duke and just glared resentfully at me.
I felt more sorry than scared.
Now that I think about it, I've really bossed him around too much.
"Senior, this is really important. We need to establish a baseline for sweetness too… We need someone with a sensitive… talented palate."
But just as I tried to persuade him, Colin stepped forward.
Without a word, he stepped up and gulped down the urine.
Then he said this:
"It's sweet…"
"Right, it's sweet. It is diabetes."
"This is how medical progress is made, right?"
"Right. You did very well."
Feeling proud of him, I gave him praise.
Then, Blundell, who had been watching silently, dropped a comment.
"If you want to see if it's sweet or not, couldn't you just pour it on an ant colony? If it's sweet, they would swarm it."
"Oh."
There was such a method.
I didn't know.
I hadn't even thought of it.
"Oh?"
Colin and Alfred began to glare at me, and I tried hard to ignore them.
Thinking just ignoring them wouldn't work, I hastily started a conversation with Sir Jamie.
"As you saw, it's diabetes. If you don't get treated… you will lose your legs or worse. You will follow the treatment I prescribe, right?"
Fortunately, Sir Jamie was so desperate that even Colin, who had just drunk urine, didn't dare interrupt.
"Yes, yes! I'll do anything! Even if you tell me to walk through a graveyard at dawn, I'll do it!"
Uh, one might think that's a strange thing to say.
But in this era, such beliefs were truly common.
There was a bizarre belief that doing something painful and tormenting would cure the disease.
Of course, it was useless.
"Compared to that, this is a very easy task."
"What is it!"
"Stay away from desserts."
"Ah… that's a bit…"
He probably thinks I'm insane.
One might think a man who offered to walk through graves would屈服 (屈服: surrender/yield) to mere desserts.
But…
Let's keep in mind that our Sir Jamie is British.
This man… effectively lives in a world where there's nothing decent to eat except for desserts.