"So Sage, how many of these 'patients' did you have?"

  "None."

  Mick stumbled and almost dropped the mug he was returning back to the shelf. "None?? I thought you said it was a long day?"

  "I said a 'long day' not a 'busy day.' I'm still practicing out of an abandoned house remember?"

  "I do. But what are you practicing in there?"

  "Thats--" I forgot myself sometimes that although I can understand and be understood by everyone in town, not every phrase or saying was actually known to them. "That's what I call what I do. I practice medicine."

  "Riiight. That's what they say in where you from...which is...?"

  "America."

  "Amerika. I still can't believe it when you say it takes half a year to cross its entirety. Our little kingdom is only about half that size from the furthest points, which is a tad longer than the shortest distance."

  "Yeah, well, it's true, and 'practicing' is what my teachers called it so I do the same. They're a lot better than me at it though. You'd wouldn't believe the random things they could pull out of their heads."

  "So what are you gonna do? If you don't have any patients to practice on, how are you gonna get money?"

  "I don't know either. The location is a bit out of the way but still close to town. And the owner's dead as far as I'm aware with no heirs to speak of so it's mine now. What I need is a sign. Advertising. 'Open for business! Local doctor for your sickness and ills!"

  "What was a 'doctor' again?"

  "They help you figure out what's wrong with your body and tell you what medicines to take."

  "And how's that different from an apothecary? We already have a few of those in town and they do the same thing. I think. My mother bought medicine from one when I was very young but I haven't been sick since. Not as bad anyway."

  Internally I wanted to sigh deeply at people confusing pharmacy for medicine. But I didn't want to be rude to my only friend after arriving in town a few days ago. And nothing against pharmacists; you can't live without 'em but that's different training.

  "An apothecary makes the medicines and sells it. Sure, if they've seen something a bunch of times and knows this one medicine works every time, that's similar to what I would do but getting to that conclusion is different! I diagnose, I take what someone's telling me and take a look and then determine what I think is going on. Those guys, or girl, I dunno who they are, will sell whatever the customer is looking for and what they feel they should according to person experience not a body of knowledge and literature."

  "That's sounds pretty arrogant to me."

  "Well, I've heard before that in order to be a doctor you need at least some level of arrogance. It's pretty cut-throat in some specialties. If you do something pretty bad they'll yell at you for it. Shoot, some of them can get fed up with you not knowing where some tool is and tell you just to stand and not do anything."

  "And that is what you say you've been trying to chase in life. Being yelled at and told to stay like some dog?" Mick gave me a skeptical look.

  "Okay, I know, it doesn't sound glamorous, but that doesn't happen all the time. Just sometimes. Infrequently. I think its because the environment is stressful and one decision or one minute can be the difference between someone getting better, or dying. It's a weighty thing sometimes.

  "Hmm. So doctors are passionate about what they do. About people being healthy."

  "The good ones yeah. But they still try their best to do the right thing the first time. And students make mistakes which is why they're in training."

  Like me, I thought. I haven't made mistakes yet, not one with an actual adverse outcome. Just a few times like forgetting to ask a question with a response that wouldn't have impacted the treatment plan anyway. Or accidentally dropping a glove or having to re-gown because I didn't do it the correct way.

  Mick smiled, "Then I suppose you're a great doctor then! I don't know exactly what you were doing when my wife was giving birth but our child looks quite healthy and cute to boot!"

  "Haha, yeah, thanks."

  Holy cannoli, I forgot to even mention that I was a student. Well, too late now. I mean, I was done with more than half of my fourth year so it's not like I couldn't see patients like a first-year intern. So that's basically a doctor, right? There's no licensing exams as far as I'm aware of yet. So I'm pretty sure I can just practice like a doctor and it will turn out just fine. Mostly. Mick's wife thankfully didn't progress to a cesarian section or C-section for short. She had a vaginal delivery and it was pretty quick for a nulliparous young mother. I even waited a minute before clamping so the baby should be extra safe.

  I might not be an Obstetrician-Gynecologist but I'm not useless in a pinch. Couldn't have done it without Mick though. He was a trooper. My only regret is not having my white coat and being able to throw it off with style before something super messy.

  "Anyway, I need to get the word out that I'm in business. And figure out a couple of other things too before I forget."

  Mick and I had discussed further what my next steps should be. I needed some signs posted that would lead people to my new-to-me home. Then I also just needed to get the word out about my business in the center of town. I didn't look forward to that but what else was there to do? Mick also agreed to keep an advertisement sign outside his inn so even the people who stayed there would learn about it. I still didn't have a name for the clinic but I was thinking "Eukrasia Medical Clinic." And finally, I needed to spruce up the place. There was still furniture and other things the previous owner left behind that I need to store away somewhere or throw away. Hopefully in a few days time, everything would be ready and I could truly open my doors to my first patient.

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  * * *

  A few days passed and indeed everything Mick and I discussed happened with minimal issues. When I opened for business properly it was the first day of a new week. No one came. The second day passed and still no one stopped by.

  Three whole days passed and I got a whole lotta nothing.

  But the fourth day, someone finally knocked on the door.

  "Welcome!" I greeted with enthusiasm and the best smile I could. I always had an issue with my smile in that I felt there was a perfect sweet spot where it looked really nice in combination with my eyes, but a lot of the time my face was a bit off and while it was fine, it made a small hit to my self-esteem. "What can I help you with?"

  "Are you the 'doctor' I saw a sign and I thought maybe you could help my son. Please, I've tried everything and the apothecaries have nothing left that will help, except Lopera grass. But its hard to get the coin every day to pay for the medicine."

  "I see. Well, you've come to the right place! I don't sell any medicine but I can help you figure out what's going on and maybe that knowledge might help you figure out something that works with what the apothecaries have. Step inside and let's talk."

  "You don't sell anything?"

  "No? I must admit you're son would be my first patient so I don't actually have any money. I'm sorry but the only thing I can offer is knowledge and insight into what ails your son."

  "Then I guess there's no point then," the woman said with her head hung. She shook her head, "I don't need knowledge I need medicine."

  The woman turned to leave but I stopped her with a few words.

  "Free! I'll look at your son for free, I won't charge a single coin. Please, it can't hurt to try."

  Privately I thought to myself, and I'll get my first patient. If this goes well, that's free advertising if I ask her to spread the word about me. News will travel faster than you can see 'gospel.'

  The woman turned her head with a hopeful but still doubtful expression.

  "O-okay."

  I led the woman inside and then realized something important. Very important.

  "Where's your son?"

  "I didn't think to bring him..."

  "..."

  "..."

  We looked at each other for an awkward few seconds which felt like an eternity.

  "Do you think you can come back with your son? If he's not here, I can't exactly investigate what's wrong, haha." I did my best to make it seem like it wasn't too much of a bother.

  "O-oh...sorry. I'll get him."

  I smiled and nodded to her, "I'll be waiting."

  * * *

  The woman came back with her son. He was about 5 years old and seemed generally happy. You wouldn't even think anything was wrong with him.

  "Mommy...my tummy doesn't feel good. I have to goooo..."

  "Go, mommy will be here with the doctor." The boy ran from the room to relieve himself. Luckily I was prepared with Mick's help to allow patients to actually do that and clean themselves with water afterward. The water was actually mixed with a strong alcohol. Hopefully it would work like a liquid soap-hand sanitizer hybrid until I could get my hands on actual soap. I explained this to the mother as they came in just in case. I couldn't predict every situation but I tried my best to remove some of the obstacles in opening the clinic.

  "So tell me about your son."

  "Well, he's been having diarrhea every day. And it smells terrible. And his poop looks weird too. He passes gas all the time and keeps complaining about pain in his tummy."

  "Does he ever get constipated?"

  "Sometimes, but its mostly diarrhea."

  "Can you talk about his stool more?"

  "His what?"

  "Poop. Stool means poop."

  "Oh! I see. I think it was kinda...pale? And it's not...um...solid. Excuse me but why are you asking me this?"

  "Uhh..." I tried to organize my thoughts quickly. "Just trust me, all the questions I asked are at least kind of related to your son's problem. There's something called Gas..." I tried explain with reasonable detail but in as plain a language as I could what digestion was and how the Gastrointestinal tract worked and why that was relevant. Then I asked her further questions to clarify a few things.

  The woman was confused with some of my terminology like "symptoms" and a few other words here and there, but the picture was pretty clear her son had an intestinal malabsorption issue. I just didn't know why yet.

  Initially, my best guess at her son's diagnosis was a diarrhea-predominant Irritable Bowel Syndrome.

  Diarrhea could be caused by a lot of things, from bacterial toxin, to inflammatory bowel bleeding, to missing special types of protein called enzymes which were needed to break down and absorb nutrients from food into the bloodstream.

  In the son's case, his diarrhea had been going on for a while. He had no issues with breastfeeding and the transition to solid food was fine, no issues until a few months ago. It was a chronic diarrhea with daily occurrence and mild abdominal discomfort, likely due to gas production from bacteria, and the kid felt better after going to the bathroom. The stools were pale, smelled foul, and not completely solid. He had no other medical history to speak of, no health problems before this visit.

  His abdominal exam was mostly benign. Discomfort when I pressed on it a bit but nothing out of the ordinary.

  I checked his pulse and approximated his breathing frequency or "respiratory rate" as we would say in the hospital, his relative temperature with the back of my hand, the color of his nails and gums, and a general bodily survey to find anything abnormal. Everything was relatively normal.

  A little stumped, I was about to give his mother my initial thoughts when I realized I forgot to ask about his diet.

  "What does he normally eat at home?"

  "At home? Let me think...we just have bread, meat, and vegetables. It's a little bland, we can't afford many spices but I always try to buy fresh bread for our family and it lasts the whole day."

  "Huh. Sounds pretty normal to me..."

  "Yeah."

  And then it hit me.

  Bread. Bread! BREAD. No freaking way.

  "Sorry, but I have a few more questions. Was there ever a time your family has gone without bread?"

  "Is that really that important to know?" The woman looked confused and was starting to look a little frustrated. I had already asked a lot of question and I wasn't even going to give her medicine at the end of the day.

  "Completely."

  The woman huffed, "Maybe a few times when times were tough."

  "Did you remember your son feeling better during those times?"

  "I don't remember nor would I want to. Who wants to remember not being able to afford bread?"

  "No one, ma'am. It's just here's what I'm thinking. Your son might have Celiac Disease."

  In the easiest way possible I tried to explain that her son's diarrhea was probably caused by the bread he's been eating. It was probably a wheat-based bread and anything with wheat in it or something similar will cause him to have diarrhea. I explained that his body doesn't digest wheat normally, although I glossed over the parts related to autoimmunity, gliadin proteins, and villous atrophy. I was proud of my diagnosis although I couldn't confirm it without testing and taking biopsies via upper endoscopy. Still it was a shining moment of triumph for me.

  The mother didn't really agree with me though. She called me stupid and nonsensical, that I must've been a quack or something. She had her suspicions from the start that I was just making stuff up and that she was glad that this was free because it was a waste of her time to hear out my lunacy. She called me a fool and then grabbed her son's hand to lead him out the door.

  "But I..."

  I was at a loss for words. I did my best, but there was a disconnect in between what she knew versus was I knew. What seemed like common sense to might've been crazy or fake to her.

  Was there even a point to practicing like this if the level of the world's knowledge and reasoning and evidence wasn't similar to Earth's?

  I felt a little dispirited and closed up the clinic early for the day. It wasn't even noon and I was already at Mick's inn. I decided to keep my mind off what happened by working for him to pay back what I owe at least.