Does anyone know why airplanes sometimes can't distinguish between up and down, especially when flying over the sea, leading to crashes into the water?
Unless you're a pilot, flight surgeon, or someone in a related field, you probably wouldn't know.
The concept of spatial disorientation itself is unfamiliar even to most doctors.
Simply put, it's a kind of illusion that occurs when the human body's sensory organs can't keep up with rapid acceleration.
The most common sensation is feeling as if your body is flipped upside down...
"Ahhhh! Save me, save me!"
My loyal servant—no, my friend Joseph—was spinning the barrel containing Alfred using his massive strength and physique.
If this spinning gets too fast, spatial disorientation can occur, and that's exactly what seemed to be happening now.
"Save me! I feel like I'm falling! I'm upside down! I feel like I'm hanging upside down!"
"What are you talking about?"
Joseph, who indeed possessed the strength to rival even Dr. Liston, seemed completely at ease even while spinning someone around.
He looked at me with a puzzled expression.
Of course, even the person doing the spinning isn't immune to dizziness, so he eventually stopped.
"In Joseon... there's a game like this. Depending on how fast you spin, some people experience this kind of illusion."
I'm sorry...
Joseon...
The more I talk about it, the more it sounds like some mysterious country...
But what can I do?
I can't just say I figured this out on my own.
"Really? I've never seen you do that."
"My father used to spin me around sometimes. You didn't see it? Well, we became closer when I was older, so you wouldn't have seen it back then."
"Is that so...?"
Joseph, who had known me since childhood, might find this strange, but he wasn't the type to doubt me easily.
"I guess so."
And just like that, he let it go.
"Ah... ah..."
Anyway, we approached Alfred.
He was sitting quietly in the barrel, just spinning, but now he was gasping for breath.
Meanwhile, Joseph, who had been doing the spinning, was perfectly fine, which made Alfred feel embarrassed.
Even so, his racing heart didn't calm down easily, and Alfred continued to breathe heavily with a dazed expression.
Looking down at him, I spoke.
"Your mind knows you're not upside down, but it felt like you were, right?"
"Uh... uh... no, what is this... how..."
I checked his pulse just in case, and it was almost 130 beats per minute.
It was a good thing he was a doctor.
If he had chosen a profession that required quick reflexes or constant adaptation to unexpected situations, he might have died.
Like, say... a pirate or a soldier.
You might wonder what I'm talking about, but in England, it's incredibly difficult to rise through the ranks without serving as a soldier, especially as an officer.
It's just the way of the times.
Anyway, I continued.
"So, just because your mind knows the truth doesn't mean the illusion won't happen. Do you understand now?"
"Uh, uh... definitely... wow... I still feel like I'm..."
"Did it really feel like you were upside down? Can I try it too?"
Alfred nodded blankly at my words.
Joseph seemed both intrigued and envious of Alfred's experience.
He then asked if he could try it too, looking at both of us.
Instead of answering, I looked down at my slender arms.
Then I glanced at Joseph's muscular arms and neck.
Given our physical differences...
Could I even do it?
"Let's ask Dr. Liston when he gets here."
"Ah... that sounds scary."
"Why?"
"He might swing a sword at us."
"That's the image he gives off, but he wouldn't do that."
Of course, there was a way.
We had a monster—no, Dr. Liston—on our side.
The problem would be if he asked to be spun around...
But I doubted he would, given his pride.
If he insisted, we'd just have to build a machine or something.
'Or maybe modify that ridiculous headache treatment device to spin people...'
Perhaps because the experiment took some time, when we returned to the lab, the patients looked slightly bored.
But it was still a meaningful experience.
"Definitely... it could be a head problem."
"So what do we do?"
Joseph and Alfred were convinced.
Convincing two clueless guys might not seem like a big deal, but having three people discuss it was better than just talking to myself.
*Creak.*
At that moment, the door opened, and Dr. Liston walked in.
"Eek!"
"Save us!"
"We didn't do anything wrong! It was him! It was him!"
We were facing away from the door, while the patients were facing it.
This meant the patients saw Dr. Liston head-on, and their reactions were quite something.
'Is he insane?'
I turned around to see what was going on, and it made sense.
The insane one was him.
He had brought a sword from the square...
And it was still dripping with blood.
'Ah... when will that guy ever clean his sword?'
We'd have to examine it under a microscope to find the bacteria, but unfortunately, the microscope Joseph had was more of a toy, incapable of observing anything at the cellular level.
Damn it.
"Ah, what's this?"
Liston casually placed the sword on the table, as if he were some medieval knight, and asked.
It felt like he'd cut us down if we didn't answer.
Even though I knew he wouldn't, the thought still crossed my mind.
"Professor, we brought in some patients who complain of pain in limbs they no longer have and were conducting interviews."
"Ah... you interviewed them? Did you find out anything?"
During this period, interviews were usually conducted for research purposes rather than medical treatment.
In other words, they hadn't been conducting interviews for treatment until now.
It might sound strange, but doctors, who knew nothing, would act as if they understood everything just by hearing the symptoms and proceed with treatment.
Anyway, I explained what we had discovered.
"The head...?"
Dr. Liston looked at me as if to say, "Is that even possible?"
But upon closer inspection, he seemed slightly shaken.
His pupils trembled, which was rare for him.
"Yes, the head. It's a possibility."
"Hmm... Alfred. Was that feeling of being upside down real?"
"Yes, yes. Why would I lie about something like this?"
"Right, you don't usually lie to me."
Liston nodded thoughtfully, muttering the word "head" to himself.
His expression wasn't great.
If it were a matter of cutting off another arm or leg, he would have been confident—after all, he was considered one of the best swordsmen in London.
But the head...?
He didn't have much experience treating head-related issues, nor did he have much knowledge in that area.
Why else would he have gone to Dr. Thomas when he had a headache?
"Hmm... this is going to be a headache."
Moreover, Liston, despite his bold appearance, was a cautious person.
Others might have immediately thought, "The head? Let's open it up!" but he was the type to confirm things first.
"Can we open the head?"
"Huh?"
Of course, he hadn't completely ruled it out.
"No, no. We should ask first."
He meant we should consult before proceeding.
"Whew."
I was surprised, but the patients, who had genuinely panicked, sighed in relief.
Well, if I saw someone holding a bloody sword and talking about opening my head, I'd be terrified too.
Honestly, if he decided to do it, it wouldn't take more than a few minutes.
The problem is, it wouldn't take more than a few minutes to die either...
"Instead of this, we should gather experts. All the patients here look familiar, so they must be recent cases... At this rate, London will be filled with patients suffering from this strange symptom. If we say we need to take measures, everyone will listen."
"Yes, yes. That's a good idea."
I nodded, thinking.
If you say it, they'll listen, even if the reason isn't convincing.
But it didn't take long for me to realize.
"What? That symptom could be caused by the head?"
"Is that really true?"
"Then I can't miss this!"
I was mistaken.
These insane 19th-century doctors were far too eager to experiment.
Amidst the recent surge in cases—so much so that some were calling it an epidemic—the possibility that the cause of phantom pain could be the head had brought together so-called head experts.
The problem was the level of these experts...
"As you all know, let me introduce myself. I'm Zemel, an expert in bloodletting."
"Barbaric... Blood can just be circulated and reduced. Right? Thomas."
First, there were Zemel and Thomas, who believed headaches were caused by blood pooling in the head.
When they introduced themselves, two others from another hospital clicked their tongues.
At this point, I still held out hope.
Come on, this can't be right!
"I'm an expert in electrotherapy. Name's Matthew."
"I'm an expert in vibration therapy. I sometimes collaborate with Matthew. Name's James."
Ah...
Dear Lord.
What on earth are electrotherapy and vibration therapy...?
'These guys aren't planning to shock people and shake them around, are they?'
Horrifying thoughts kept crossing my mind.
It couldn't be helped.
Everything I'd seen here under the guise of treatment had been like that.
Damn lunatics.
"Good. These gentlemen are the head experts renowned not just in London, but across England."
Despite my despair, Dr. Liston looked pleased.
He chuckled heartily.
With just one word, four experts had gathered... I guess that's something.
To me, they looked more like quacks or butchers, but to the people of this era, they were indeed experts... right?
"First, can you show us that illusion? We've heard about it, and Dr. Liston isn't one to talk nonsense, so it's credible... But as scientists, we need to see it with our own eyes."
Thomas was the first to speak.
That guy probably just enjoys spinning people around, but he had a point.
What could I do?
We had to spin someone.
"Uh, can you spin me?"
Fortunately, there was someone here who actually wanted to experience the terrifying and agonizing sensation of spatial disorientation.
Joseph, who had been spinning others earlier but hadn't been spun himself, stepped forward.
And the person to do the spinning was already decided.
"Hmm, sure."
Joseph, with his large build, didn't seem like the ideal candidate for spinning, but Dr. Liston stepped forward without hesitation.
He began spinning Joseph in the barrel without mercy.
"Uh, ahhh! My body! My body!"
The familiar screams began echoing through the sacred halls of the hospital.