I Became a Plague Doctor in a Romance Fantasy Novel - Chapter 84



Episode 84. The Curse of the Cerulis Family (1)

Episode 84. The Curse of the Cerulis Family (1)

“After I graduate, let’s go back to the Imperial Palace together. Like we promised. We will, right?”

The doll didn’t answer, but Mint pulled it into a side hug and made its head nod.

“Good girl, that’s right.”

Mint thought for a moment. When Asterix said he was going to quit his professorship in a few years, was it really with Mint in mind?

Probably not? Knowing his personality. Maybe it was just something he said to get out of it.

But still. Mint must have had some influence on the decision…! Even if it was just a casual comment, he would have thought it through before answering.

Mint decided to think of it that way.

It’s outpatient clinic time again today.

I wonder what kind of weird people will come by this time? Haven’t seen anyone top that mushroom-eater yet.

The people I see most often at the Academy Hospital are probably Academy students. It’s partly because it’s close by.

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But I bet it’s also because there are so many morons.

Barely high school or college age, these young noble kids, given all that power, all that influence, just thrown together in one place.

It’s bound to turn into a shitshow. Like that swordsmanship tournament where so many died, or those violent monster hunts, things like that.

Knock knock. Someone knocked on the clinic door, and a patient came in. This patient was, relatively speaking, a normal-looking Academy student.

Let’s take a closer look.

A girl. Her hair was messy, her complexion was okay, but there were dark circles under her eyes.

She didn’t look particularly ill, or have any unusual posture, or have any trouble moving around. Her Academy uniform was neat, but it didn’t look like it was particularly well-cared for. In many ways.

“What’s your name?”

“It’s Erta.”

“How did you get here?”

“I walked.”

Ah, okay then.

This one’s a bit of an oddball too, huh? Whether she walked, flew, whatever, she figured it out. I was asking what made her decide to come.

“What’s bothering you that brought you in?”

“I haven’t been sleeping well lately.”

A common complaint.

You might think, “Is that all you came to the hospital for?” But most patients, if they’re coming to the hospital, it’s because they’re really suffering.

“How many hours are you sleeping a day?”

“About five hours.”

“Hmm.”

Can’t sleep, must be sleeping pills!

—It’s easy to think that way, but you can’t be hasty. Using sleeping pills comes with a lot of risks, it’s best to see them as a last resort.

Ideally, changing lifestyle habits is the best method, but… It’s a little hypocritical for me to tell a patient to do something I can’t do myself.

I’ll talk with her more, and maybe give her some vitamins.

Oh, right. I need to check that first.

One of the most specific symptoms of a manic episode is not sleeping. Of course, this student doesn’t look like she’s having a manic episode, but.

Since my specialty isn’t psychiatry, I should probably check things thoroughly.

“When did it start?”

“About two weeks ago,” she said.

“Okay. In recent times, have you experienced periods of feeling unusually good, rapid speech, have others commented that you’re acting different, or have you found yourself more engaged in goal-oriented activities?”

“Not at all.”

“Any periods of feeling depressed?”

“Nope.”

I noted the responses in her medical chart. I’d checked for manic or depressive episodes, but there was nothing.

Now it was my turn to offer solutions. What could I possibly tell her? Of course, it’d be ridiculous for *me* to lecture someone about fixing their lifestyle or reducing stress.

I tried to recall my own past encounters with psychiatrists. What kind of prescription would they give for insomnia? What would they say?

“I won’t be prescribing you sleeping pills,” I announced.

“Oh, really?”

“Sleeping pills can be addictive, and it can become difficult if you start thinking you can’t sleep without them. They’re dangerous in several ways.”

Erta nodded.

“So… Is there nothing you *can* do?”

There is. I paused a moment.

“Have you ever tried… not sleeping?”

“Huh?”

“Just… do whatever you normally do at night.”

“But that’ll make it harder to sleep!”

It’s called paradoxical intention.

Changing the sheets to sleep better, exercising before bed, all these bedtime rituals. And the constant worry of not being able to sleep. These things can actually exacerbate the insomnia.

It’s a kind of self-fulfilling prophecy, this. The fear of not sleeping grips you, and then you really *do* toss and turn.

Humans are meant to sleep, you know? You die if you don’t. The very situation of stressing about not sleeping is, in a way, paradoxical.

“For a week, if you can’t sleep, just get up and do something. Don’t worry so much about not sleeping.”

“Will that fix it?”

“It could be that the anxiety’s the problem. The anxiety about not sleeping can paradoxically cause the insomnia itself.”

Erta scratched her head.

A look that said, *Really?* It’s unfortunate, but lifestyle-related issues are not the kind of things that get fixed easily.

It’s not the sort of problem that you can just solve by finding a treatment and taking medicine, or cutting something open.

“If it doesn’t work, when should I come back?”

“Just try it for a week.”

Any longer than that would be risky. Though it’s unlikely, if by some chance, Ms. Erta actually manages to stay awake for days with superhuman willpower, it could be harmful to her health.

“Okay.”

“Even if it doesn’t work, just lie down with your eyes closed. That can still have an effect.”

I grabbed a few vitamin pills, put them in a glass jar, and handed them to Erta. She took the jar with both hands.

“You said you wouldn’t give me sleeping pills?”

“It’s a supplement. Maybe something’s missing. Take one a day.”

“Ah, thank you!”

Erta nodded a few times, then got up holding the pill bottle. Even if the medication isn’t essential, people seem to much prefer to have something to take away with them.

Who else is coming in today? I was taking a quick look at the patient records when Istina opened the door to the consultation room and came in.

“Professor. Someone came to see you today, but it wasn’t the patient themselves. It seems like a guardian or someone came looking for you, saying they had something to say.”

“Oh? What did they say?”

“They said they wanted to see you.”

If the patient isn’t coming, there’s no solution. It’s obvious, but you can only treat a patient if you see them directly. Or if there’s another patient in the ward. If I was busy, I would’ve just sent them back.

“So. They’re not the one who’s sick, but they came looking for my help?”

Istina nodded.

“Tell them to come in. I’ll decide after hearing what they have to say.”

“They’re saying *you* need to come out, Professor.”

“No way.”

“Ah, okay.”

Istina closed the examination room door and left.

A few minutes later, a woman came into the examination room with Istina. She was wearing a dress that looked quite expensive, along with a hat and a fan.

From her walk to her posture, she had that mannerism specific to noblewomen. And she looked much older than the patients I usually see.

Well, not so much old but more like elegant experience. Like, maybe she’s a parent of one of my students.

“Hello. How can I help you?”

“You’re a hard person to meet, it seems.”

“Me?”

You can see me if you come to the hospital. It depends on the number of same-day admissions, but it doesn’t take long.

“I tried to get a connection to arrange a meeting? But you’re a much more valuable person than I thought. And I have almost no personally acquainted nobles.”

I don’t really understand what that means.

“Seems like there’s been a misunderstanding. You can see me right away if you come to the hospital. There were only one or two on the waitlist today.”

“I barely managed to get in touch with the prince to see the professor, but that’s what they told me. That the professor isn’t the type to do favors easily, or to do anything just because they’re told to.”

What the hell does that even mean? If you’re sick, you come to the hospital. If you want to meet a doctor, or anyone for that matter, outside of their workplace, of course it’s going to be difficult…

Hell, try grabbing a clerk at a convenience store and asking them to have a meal with you. See if that works as planned.

Anyway. Let’s put the noble play aside.

“I’m not exactly sure what you mean. Let’s get to the point. Who’s sick?”

The woman, the moment I started speaking, let out a deep sigh. She clenched her eyes shut, looking as if she’d been forced to recall something she’d rather forget.

“A disaster has fallen upon my household. I can’t see any solution, and I came to ask for your help because I heard the professor is the greatest physician in the empire.”

“What is your name?”

“Ah. I’m Cecilia, the Duchess of Serulis. Please, call me Cecilia.”

“Yes. Cecilia, please explain in detail who’s sick and how.”

“Haa…. There are three children in the Serulis family. And all three are sick right now.”

Oh, really?

“What’s wrong with them?”

“The first one has lost his mind, the second one has seizures, and the third one is just generally unwell.”

“Oh, dear. That must be very difficult.”

I readjusted my posture.

To be honest, my first impression was that she was just some wealthy hypochondriac noblewoman. But it seems there’s a real problem after all?