Chapter 84 Chapter Eighty-Four

At the beginning of the new year, Philippe worked as a dressing man in the surgical outpatient department.The nature of this work is no different from the work he had done not long ago in the outpatient department of internal medicine, but the working method is more direct.This is determined by the nature of surgery different from internal medicine.The old-fashioned public has always been overly cautious about internal and external diseases and allowed them to spread everywhere, resulting in a considerable number of people suffering from diseases.Philip worked as a dresser for an assistant surgeon named Jacob.He was a stocky, plump man with a bald head and a heart, cheerful and enthusiastic.When he speaks, he speaks with a London accent, and his voice is loud.The students of the medical school gave him a nickname behind his back-the ugly reckless man.However, whether as a surgeon or as a teacher, he is extremely intelligent, which made some students ignore his ugliness.He is also fond of joking, and he treats patients as well as students equally.He relished making fools of his packers.The dressing men knew nothing, were terrified, and were not used to his condescending attitude of being equal to them.In this case, it is not easy to make fun of them.In the afternoon, he was in a happier mood, because he could babble about his clichés, while the students who came to practice had to listen with a smile on their faces.One day a boy came to see a doctor who was lame.His parents wondered if there was still a cure for his lameness.Mr. Jacobs turned to Philip and said:

"Kerry, this patient is best left to you. You should learn about this subject." Philip blushed.The surgeon was obviously playing tricks on him, Philip, and the dressing men next to him, who were frightened by him, smiled obsequiously.Seeing this scene, Philip couldn't help but turn pale.To tell the truth, since his arrival at St. Luke's, Philip had been studying the subject with eagerness.He had read everything in the library about lameness of all kinds.Philip told the boy to take off his boots and stockings.The child is only fourteen years old.A freckled face with blue eyes and a snub nose.His father nags that they want to get the boy's foot fixed if possible, otherwise lameness is not good for the child to earn a living on his own.That kid has a cheerful disposition, he is not shy at all, he is eloquent, and has a thick skin.His father was disgusted by this.The boy was quite interested in his lameness.

"It's just an ugly foot, you know," he said to Philip, "but I don't find it inconvenient at all." "Shut up, Ernie," his father snapped, "you talk too much nonsense." Philip examined the lameness of the child, and stroked it gently with his hand.He couldn't understand why the child didn't feel ashamed at all, but this shame weighed heavily on his heart all the time.He didn't know why he couldn't have the sensible indifference to disabilities that this kid had.At this moment, Mr. Jacob came up to him.The boy was sitting on the edge of a bench, the surgeon and Philip stood on either side of him, and the rest of the students surrounded him in a half-moon shape.As usual, Jacob gave a short lecture on lameness, brilliantly and vividly: he talked about the types of lameness and the different shapes of lameness due to different anatomies.

"I suppose your lame foot is horseshoe-shaped, isn't it?" he said, turning sharply to Philip. "yes." Philip noticed that the eyes of his classmates were all focused on him, and his face was blushing. For this, he secretly scolded himself.He felt sweat dripping from his palms.Due to his many years of practicing medicine, Mr. Jacob can speak clearly and clearly, and has a unique insight, which is admirable.He has a keen interest in his profession.But Philip did not listen attentively, and was anxious to see the old man finish quickly.Suddenly, he realized that Jacob was speaking to him.

"Kerry, you don't mind if you take your socks off for a while?" Philip felt only a tremor in his whole body.For a moment, he really wanted to yell "Get out of here" at Jacob, but he didn't have the courage to lose his temper, for fear that he would end up being ridiculed.So, he suppressed the resentment in his heart and pretended to be nonchalant. "It's nothing," he snapped back. He sat down and began to unbutton his boots.His fingers trembled, thinking he shouldn't have unbuttoned it.He recalled the scene when his classmates forced him to take off his shoes and socks to expose his lameness when he was in school, and he remembered the trauma deeply imprinted on his heart.

"He always keeps his feet well-washed and clean, doesn't he?" said Jacob in his raspy Cockney accent. The students present giggled.Philip noticed that the boy whose feet had been examined looked down at them with an eager, curious look.Jacob grabbed Philip's limp and went on: "Yeah, I expected that. I see you had surgery on your foot. I think it was a child's surgery?" Then, he continued to explain.The students leaned over one by one, watching Philip's limp.When Jacob let go, two or three students were still staring at the crippled foot. "You've seen enough, I'll put on my socks again," said Philip, with a sardonic smile.

He could kill them all one by one.How murderous it would be, he thought, to stab them in the neck with a chisel (he wondered how he had come to think of using such an instrument)!How like a beast man is!He wished he could believe in the theory of purgatory, so that he could feel better at the thought of the terrible torture that these people would suffer.Mr. Jacobs turned his attention to the cure, speaking half to the boy's father and half to the students.Philip put on his socks and buttoned his boots.At last the surgeon, having finished speaking, turned suddenly to Philip as if thinking of something, and said:

"Hey, I think it might be good for you to have another operation. Of course I can't give you back a normal foot, but I think I can do something. You think about it. When will you If you want to take a vacation, you can stay in the hospital for a while." Philip often asked himself if there was any way to heal his lame leg.But he hated bringing up his disability, so he never discussed it with any of the surgeons at the hospital.He learned from the book that no matter what kind of treatment he received when he was young, it would not have any effect, because the medical skills at that time were not as good as they are now.It was worth the extra stab, though, as long as it made him wear normal boots and walk with a less severe limp.He remembered how fervently he had prayed for a miracle.His pastor uncle had promised that the Almighty God was fully capable of creating such miracles.Thinking of this, he smiled bitterly.

"What a fool I was then!" he thought to himself. Towards the end of February, Cronshaw's condition deteriorated visibly, and he never rose again.He stayed in bed all day, but insisted on closing all the windows, and still refused to see a doctor.He ate very little nutritious food, and kept asking for whiskey and cigarettes.Philip knew he was not supposed to drink and smoke at all, but Cronshaw couldn't be bothered.His point is hard to refute. "I know that alcohol and tobacco are definitely killing me, but I don't care, you've done me a favor and done your best. I don't listen to your advice. Give me a drink and fuck you."

Two or three times a week Leonard Upjohn floated in, and his dry-leaf appearance made "dead leaf" the most vivid and accurate description of his appearance.He was thirty-five years old, with long, gray hair and a pale face that looked like weeds.That way it was obvious that he rarely set foot in the open air.He wore a hat that looked like a dissident priest.Philip was disgusted by his haughty manner, and hated his eloquence.Leonard Upjohn was fond of bombast, with complete disregard for the interest of his audience, and this is the essential quality of a good speaker.It never occurred to Upjan that what he was saying was the same clichés his audience had grown tired of hearing.He spoke carefully to Philip what he thought of Rodin, Albert Samann, and Caesar Frank.Philip's handmaids only came in for an hour's work in the morning, and Philip himself was in the hospital all day, so that Cronshaw was left alone for the greater part of the day.Upjung told Philip that he wanted someone to keep Cronshaw company, but there was only thunder and no rain.

"It's disturbing to think of the great poet alone at home. Well, he may die with no one around him." "I think it's quite possible," said Philip. "How can you be so ruthless!" "You could come here every day to do something, and then he'd have someone around for everything he needs. Why don't you?" Philip retorted flatly. "Me? My dear fellow, I can only work within my familiar surroundings, and besides, I have to go out a lot." In addition, Upjohn was very upset when he saw Philip taking Cronshaw to his residence. "I wish you'd let him stay in Soho," he said, waving his slender arms in the air. "There's something romantic about that garret, though it's dirty. I can live with Wabham or Shoreditch, but I can't bear him being moved to decent Kennington. What an ideal place to bury the soul of poetry!" Cronshaw was often irritable.But Philip kept reminding himself not to lose his temper, for his impatience was only a symptom of his illness.Upjung sometimes came to see Cronshaw before Philip left work, and it was always at this time that Cronshaw, in Upjung's presence, vented his anger against Philip.Upjung listened with interest. Upjohn always spoke stingingly to Philip, and Philip tried to suppress his emotions.But one evening Philip could bear it no longer.At that time, he had done heavy work in the hospital for a day, and when he returned to the apartment, he was exhausted.While he was making tea in the kitchen, Leonard Upjung stepped in and told Philip that Cronshaw was complaining about his insistence on calling the doctor. "Don't you realize that you have a very rare, very delicate privilege? Of course, you should do everything in your power to prove that your noble character is reliable." "I cannot afford such a rare and delicate privilege," remarked Philip. Whenever money was mentioned, Leonard Upjohn had an air of disdain, and his sensitive nature always became irritable. "There was something beautiful about Cronshaw's manner and speech, but your begging has disturbed it. You should leave room for subtleties of imagination that you do not appreciate." Philip's face darkened. "Let's go to Cronshaw to judge together," said Philip coldly. The poet was lying in bed reading a book with a pipe in his mouth.There was a musty smell in the room.The room was untidy, despite Philip's frequent visits to tidy it up.It seemed that wherever Cronshaw lived, he could never be clean.Cronshaw took off his spectacles when he saw them both coming in.At this moment, Philip was almost beyond control. "Upjung said you complained that I kept pushing you to see a doctor," said Philip. "I want you to see a doctor because your life is in danger at any time. Besides, if you don't go to see a doctor, I won't be able to get a health certificate. Once you die, I will be summoned, and I will pay for it. The doctor was blamed." "That didn't occur to me. I thought you were urging me to the doctor for my own sake, not yours. Well, then, I'll see the doctor whenever you like." Philip said nothing, but shrugged his shoulders imperceptibly.Cronshaw, who had been watching him, couldn't help laughing. "Don't be angry, dear. I know you want to do all you can for me. Then please call the doctor. Maybe he can really help me. At least, it will To comfort you." Then he turned his gaze to Upjung. "You're a complete idiot, Leonard. How can you think of breaking his heart? You're not going to do anything for me other than write a nice article for me after I die. I've always known you ." The next day Philip ran to see Dr. Tyrrell.He thought Dr. Tyrell would be interested if he told about Cronshaw's condition.And that's exactly what happened.Dr Tyrell followed Philip into Kennington Street as soon as he was off duty.He was in complete agreement with what Philip had said earlier, and that Cronshaw was beyond repair. "I can take him to the hospital if you like," he said to Philip. "He can be accommodated in a single room." "He won't say anything." "You know, he's dying every minute. If he doesn't, he's probably going to get pneumonia again." Philip nodded.Dr. Tyrrell gave a few more instructions, and promised Philip that he would be there whenever he was called.Before leaving, he also left his address.Philip saw the doctor off, and returned to Cronshaw, where he found him quietly reading a book.Cronshaw did not even ask what the doctor's orders were. "My dear boy, are you satisfied now?" he asked. "I suppose you're not going to do anything Dr. Tyrrell tells you to do, are you?" "Of course," replied Cronshaw, smiling.