Garrett leaned his chin on his hand as he sat in the outpatient building of the Oak Grove Clinic, reading a book while waiting for patients.
This year’s first snow in Nevis arrived earlier than usual.
Of course, Nevis itself is by the sea, with mild mariti breezes, a temperate climate, not too cold in winter nor too hot in sumr. While the mainland experiences blizzards, the people of Nevis only feel the continuous drizzle of winter rain, which seems to last longer each ti.
Even the city’s poor and the suburban farrs, at most, would just tighten their thin clothes and then look up to curse:
"This damn weather!"
The only ones who really knew what was happening were the mages. Snowflakes spiraled down from high above, landing on the Star Do and the eight auxiliary towers around the Tower of Heaven. Overnight, these nine distinct mage towers were all whitened.
Of course, this scene could only be seen by night owls. By the next morning, the large illusion lock covering the peak of Igor Peak had already adjusted—
The howling wind and falling snowflakes, along with all the energy they carried, were filtered and converted by the illusion lock, channeled into the great magic array atop Igor Peak.
From this day forward, Garrett silently adjusted his working hours at the hospital, arriving an hour earlier in the morning and leaving an hour later in the evening.
—With his experience in the ergency departnt, every significant drop in temperature marks a period of high incidence for cardiovascular diseases. A wave of cold air can double the number of patients admitted for chest pain and strokes.
"Good thing I’ve already developed the cardiac defibrillation and electric defibrillation magic…"
Garrett humd as he leaned on his book. Linking magic arrays wasn’t difficult, and after reading the books his teacher gave him, it all fell into place; the challenging part was allowing the magic to automatically determine—
When is defibrillation needed?
When is electric cardioversion needed?
When is neither necessary, and continuing with cardiac resuscitation better?
How much energy should be used?
Should it be based on the patterns of an electrocardiogram or nurical values? How should the program be written?
On and off, gathering information and adjusting spells took half a year’s ti. Now, he could finally say it was essentially complete.
"Help!"
At the entrance of the outpatient building, a jumble of footsteps and sharp cries rang out. Garrett quickly left the consultation room:
"Coming!"
Ah, they brought soone in. Garrett hurried over:
"What’s the situation?"
His first glance made him want to facepalm. Four sturdy servants, front and back, were carrying a huge door panel—or should I say, a bed board? On the bed board lay a fat old man, so heavy that the board was slightly bent. ℞𝐚₦ɵ𐌱Ëș
dically speaking, his belly could be described as fully distended, even adding "like a full-term pregnant woman" wouldn’t be an exaggeration. Of course, it wasn’t very clear because the old man was covered with a large quilt, hiding most of his outline…
"My father! Suddenly he couldn’t cope!" Two knights, well, probably knights, followed closely on either side, hands supporting the bed board, faces full of anxiety:
"This morning after breakfast, he said he wanted to go… um, and then he didn’t co out. His personal servant called him, and found him lying there, too weak to get up…"
This um… was quite delicate. Garrett moved his nostrils, slling a familiar stench. So, the old man was constipated? Constipation, then a sudden spike in blood pressure, possibly leading to a cerebral hemorrhage?
"Understood, don’t worry, let see." Garrett nodded to reassure the patient’s family and cast a healing spell. At a glance, the patient’s complexion was pale, and he was sweating profusely, um… it looked quite severe, but thankfully he was still conscious, which was good news?
He then reached out to lift the quilt. Even with constipation, it wouldn’t hinder checking the upper body, listening to the heart and breathing sounds. Right:
"What rank is your father?"
"8th level…"
Both sons answered in unison. Garrett sighed with relief; thank goodness, his teacher had given him a beast crystal core. Otherwise, with Cirella still sleeping, he wouldn’t even have a light source for an X-ray…
His hand reached halfway then retracted. The two knights, faces red with embarrassnt, firmly held down the corners of the quilt. Garrett probably imagined the scene under the quilt and nodded at them:
"Shall we go into the consultation room then?"
The consultation room door closed, the quilt was lifted, and a foul sll imdiately assaulted them. The old man’s lower body was bare, lying in the quilt, sared with indescribable substances.
As the quilt was lifted, he imdiately turned his head inward, eyes tightly shut, veins on his neck throbbing—
Presumably, the family was so nervous that they rushed to get him to the hospital without even wiping him down or changing his clothes. They just carried him into the carriage and sped all the way to Oak Grove Clinic.
Alright, it really was constipation causing a sudden increase in blood pressure. To think that this scene was discovered by servants and sons, it was enough to die of social embarrassnt, and now even more so in front of a doctor. Without a face thick enough to resist a fireball spell, it really couldn’t be endured.
Garrett, wise and experienced, was prepared. Ignoring the knights’ apologies, he casually cast a cleaning spell. The filth was swept away into a nearby trash can, followed by a command:
"You, go dispose of the trash!"
"Right away!"
The younger knight darted out. The elder, likely the old man’s eldest son, unable to catch up, could only stay by his father’s side, answering Garrett’s questions one by one:
"How old is the elderly gentleman?"
"67 years old."
"Has he had any illnesses before? Or any injuries?"
"No serious illnesses… Lots of injuries, though. Broke his arm in his early years, his leg, ribs… seems like even his intestines once…"
Garrett didn’t need to be told; he already saw a long, approximately 30cm old scar on the old man’s right abdon, striking to the eye. As for other ailnts…
Garrett’s hands flew, casting a series of diagnostic spells. He felt like cursing:
Blood potassium 2.73 mmol/L, below the normal range; blood sodium 129.4 mmol/L, slightly below normal. Blood pressure 89/60 mm Hg, not bad, pulse 92 beats per minute! Blood oxygen saturation 96%!
Clearly, there was a problem!
Garrett continued to inquire about the dical history, learning that the old man had suddenly beco weak all over an hour ago, his complexion pale, sweating profusely, persistently not improving.
No chest tightness or back pain, no difficulty breathing, no swelling of the lower limbs. No abdominal pain or bloating, no vomiting, headaches, dizziness, fainting, or fever.
The only issue was, during the dical history interview, the old man was slow to respond, making it difficult to question.
"Oh, my father has been like this for two months, quite slow to respond. Whatever you tell him, he takes a while to understand."
…So, his condition really isn’t due to high blood pressure causing cerebral hemorrhage, or sothing like an occlusion?
…Well, I can’t do an MRI here…
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