Chapter 209
Garrett coughed and spat, rinsed his mouth, wiped his face, and after a while, he regained his composure and hurried back to the old dwarf’s side. Along the way, he didn’t forget to grab a spoon to collect the phlegm, preparing to conduct bacterial culture experiments later.
—That phlegm went into his own mouth! Who knows what kind of bacteria is inside! Tubercle bacillus? Pneumococcus? Staphylococcus? Or perhaps chlamydia? Mycoplasma? Fungi?
He didn’t want to get infected!
Garrett cast a healing spell on himself, thinking it over, then cast another healing spell. His concern for himself ended there: The old dwarf had clearly experienced hypoxia just now, and now he needed to confirm with his own eyes how he was recovering and whether further treatment was necessary.
He rushed over, and Master Talbert had already been helped up and was sitting on a stool, sipping water with small sips. Two dwarf priests, one on each side, were accompanying him. Seeing Garrett rushing over, the priest who had been cast with "Understanding Language" immediately jumped up and made way for him:
"Hey, thanks for earlier!"
The old dwarf also slowly stood up, supporting himself on the table. Garrett hurriedly bent down to support him: "Master, shall we sit outside? If your breathing isn’t smooth, it’s best not to sit in here, it’s smoky..."
"No need, I’m fine like this." The old dwarf smiled slowly. Garrett became anxious: "Master!!!"
"Alright, alright, I’ll listen to you." The old dwarf gently patted his hand. One, two times. Between his white beard and hair, his eyes curved slightly, that smile, just like when their mentor fell seriously ill and disciples begged for treatment.
After two pats, the old dwarf let go of Garrett, leaning on the hands of the two disciples, walking outside. A large group of dwarves in the tavern followed, lifting tables, moving chairs, lighting torches, and settling the old man on the hillside outside. The refreshing mountain breeze blew in bursts, and the tired look on the old dwarf’s face gradually relaxed.
Garrett sat down in front of the old dwarf. Carefully observing, the old man’s lips and fingernails were no longer purple, but his breathing was still rapid. The two dwarf priests looked eagerly on, and the one who had been cast with "Understanding Language" approached a bit, cautiously asking:
"Priest sir, do you have any way to help the master? We’ve done everything we can..."
"Don’t smoke, don’t drink, breathe in fresh air more, don’t sleep in poorly ventilated places at night." Garrett looked serious:
"And take some expectorant medicine regularly to help cough up the phlegm. I’m not good at medicine, I’ll write a letter to Elder Wood, you take the letter and go to Oak Ridge to ask him for medicine. And also..."
And also oxygen! For respiratory failure secondary to chronic lung disease, pulmonary fibrosis, etc., although oxygen therapy cannot cure the disease, it can effectively improve patient comfort and oxygenation!
Garrett rummaged through his waist pouch, took out his precious little test tube, and the potassium permanganate in the test tube:
"Use the gas inside as a spell material, gather the same type of gas together, put it in the Bubble Spell for people to breathe, this spell—or divine spell—who can do it?"
The two dwarf priests looked at each other. They looked at Garrett with blank faces, and Garrett looked at them with a blank face, like two students struggling with a question paper. Did I not explain clearly enough... When I told Elder Wood earlier, he understood it quickly, didn’t he?
"I can give it a try." Next to the long table, Elder Talbert cleared his throat and suddenly spoke up. The two dwarf priests were shocked and turned back: "Master!"
The old dwarf waved his hand. He looked at Garrett seriously:
"But how do I know if the divine spell is used correctly, and the gas gathered is the same as the one in the tube?"
"That’s right!" The two dwarf priests nodded vigorously. The tube was empty, colorless, odorless, even if you tried your best, how would you know if the divine spell was used correctly? Not being able to see proof always leaves people puzzled...
"I do have a way with this." Garrett thought for a moment, continued to rummage through his waist pouch, and took out a complete set of alchemical equipment from his spatial bag. Set up on-site, conduct experiments on-site, and collect a tube of carbon dioxide:
"Shall we try this?"
The old dwarf took the test tube, concentrated on casting the divine spell, and gathered the gas in an empty beaker. After casting the spell, Garrett lit a candle, poked it into the beaker, the flame flickered without any flickering, and emitted a wisp of black smoke before quietly extinguishing.
"That’s right, that’s it!" Garrett clapped his hands. He took out the earliest tube of potassium permanganate, heated it carefully, decomposed potassium permanganate to release oxygen. When the powder in the bottle turned from purple to gray-black, Garrett handed it to the old dwarf, instructing earnestly:
"You release a Bubble Spell for yourself first... the gas collected this time, put it in the Bubble Spell, and you can breathe it yourself!"
The old dwarf hesitated. But seeing Garrett’s earnest gaze, he still raised his hand and tried the spell for himself. Soon, his complexion improved, and he let out a long breath.
"How is it? Master, how is it?"
"Much better..."
The old man’s voice was light and cheerful. Garrett squatted beside him and quickly added:
"This gas is best to be inhaled every day. —When you feel extremely tired after using a large divine spell, when you can’t stop coughing and can’t sleep at night, it’s best to inhale it. I dare not say it will cure you, but it can make you feel much more comfortable."
The two dwarf priests nodded so vigorously that they were about to leave a shadow behind. One on the left, one on the right, they grabbed Garrett and thanked him profusely. Garrett thought for a moment:
"By the way, it’s best not to use the Bubble Spell. That thing is too small and will be inhaled in no time, and the subsequent waste gas may be harmful to people. It’s best to use a tube placed near the nose, connected to a bellows behind, and slowly push the gas over. As long as someone inflates the bellows, the elderly can inhale this gas when they are tired or asleep..."
He spread out paper and pen, brushed, brushed, and drew a schematic diagram of an oxygen tube and oxygen pump. After finishing drawing, he said again:
"It’s better not to use human force to operate the bellows, which may cause excessive ventilation. Behind it, install a mechanical transmission device, powered by hydraulics, or whatever force is convenient... for example, set up a water tank to hold water and push the bellows one by one... But, I can’t do this..."
"We can do this!" Both
dwarf priests smiled. "Making this kind of thing is our specialty!"
Garrett pushed the paper and pen decisively.
The paper and pen are yours, great gods, please draw!
A large group of dwarves started to work at the same time, cooperating. Garrett only took care of calculating the tidal volume, the speed of pushing and pulling the bellows each time, and the volume of gas supplied. He handed over the data and went straight to sleep. Early the next morning, he saw the strange-looking respirator—or oxygen pump...
At the front was a tightly fitting mask, according to Garrett’s requirements, two one-way valves were specially made to facilitate the discharge of waste gas. Behind the mask was a rubber tube, which could be directly fixed to the patient’s nostrils if the mask was removed.
Behind the tube was a bellows with springs, a contraption similar to a water wheel kept turning beside it, pushing and pulling the bellows. And what drove the water wheel was a barrel with a water tap—
The barrel was filled with clear water, and the water level was maintained at the highest point to ensure constant flow velocity and constant impact force, so that the bellows could be pulled at a constant speed. Beside it was a taller and fatter barrel, connected to the former by a siphon tube, and a dwarf stood beside it, pouring water into the tall barrel...
This... this is really something good... at least it’s semi-automatic...
Garrett’s eyes gleamed, and he smiled at the dwarf priests.
"Can you... make another one for me... I can use it to save other people..."
He took out his purse. Before he could untie the purse string, his hand was firmly held down:
"What are you giving money for! You’re our good brother, making something, and you still want your money! Wait, we’ll make it for you tonight!"
Yes!!!
Dwarf version of a respirator, obtained!
In the future, as long as I reach level 5, learn that oxygen-enriching divine spell, or figure out how to get a liquid oxygen tank, I can give people oxygen!
Garrett’s hospital, a lifesaving weapon, has been obtained once again!
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