A Hospital in Another World?

"Go find them! Send the healthy ones to find them! Before I’m done, I want to see everyone here!"

Garrett turned and entered the house. Listening to the roar of the strong man outside, Garrett took out pen and paper, showing the most friendly smile possible. He went along the line of bedding in the house, asking questions one by one, diagnosing one by one:

"Grandma, how old are you? How many times have you had diarrhea since yesterday? When was the first time? Have you vomited? Is your stomach hurting now? Give me your hand... Let me take a look at your fingers... Have you urinated..."

Before he could finish two questions, the old woman bent over and began to vomit heavily. Garrett hurriedly went to support her, trying to pay attention to the color and shape of the vomit while supporting her, too busy to notice the dirt on himself.

After a while, the vomiting finally subsided temporarily. The old woman was exhausted and collapsed on the bedding, while the young woman knelt beside her, wiping the floor with a cloth. After a few wipes, her face turned pale, and she ran out.

Garrett didn’t have time to attend to her. He continued to ask questions and examine patients, recording hastily:

Elderly female patient, 55 years old... considered elderly in this world.

Five episodes of diarrhea since early this morning, first passing yellow-brown watery stool, then passing rice water-like stool... projectile vomiting occurred after the last two episodes of diarrhea...

Dry skin and mucous membranes, no signs of sunken eye sockets (?) He couldn’t judge the sunken eye sockets of foreigners accurately... slight hoarseness in voice... normal urine output... normal pulse...

This is basically mild dehydration, at most moderate. Garrett quickly made the diagnosis and comforted her in a soft voice:

"Grandma, you’re not seriously ill now, just rest well and drink plenty of water. —Aurora! Come watch them and boil water!"

Aurora Worton, the versatile tool mage, hurried over. Garrett issued a series of orders:

"Get someone to boil water! Boil it! It must be boiled! After boiling, cool it down to a drinkable temperature, then add sugar and salt—"

A bag of white sugar, a bag of refined salt, and a bag of baking soda, were thrown to the ground at Aurora’s feet. Garrett tore off another piece of paper, calculated in his mind, and wrote down the proportions, handing it to her:

"After mixing, pour water for each patient, use bowls or cups to serve and place them beside them, 750 milliliters per person! Drink one round every hour! Quick, go boil water now, I want to see the first patient drinking water when I finish diagnosing the last one!"

Yes, although cholera is a serious disease, when it comes to mild or even moderate dehydration, the only way to treat it is hydration. If oral rehydration is possible, do it, and if not, intravenous hydration. Replenish fluids, ions, and energy to help patients get through it!

Early detection, early intervention, timely hydration, and the vast majority of patients will be able to get through it!

Add salt to distilled water, add glucose (if there’s no glucose, use sugar as a substitute), add sodium bicarbonate, add potassium chloride—Garrett didn’t have the last one, he could only hope there were some impurities in the salt... He had to remember to make potassium chloride later! He must remember!

"No problem!"

Aurora turned and ran off. Garrett turned around, the old woman was barely breathing, struggling to pull his sleeve:

"Priest, I’ve dirtied your robe, I’m so sorry... I’ll let Florla wash it for you later, although she’s young, she’s diligent..."

"Grandma, Florla has gone to tend to the sheep..." the young woman whispered. She didn’t mind the dirt on the old woman, tears welling up in her eyes, one hand holding the old woman’s sleeve, the other reaching for Garrett:

"Priest, is Granny going to die?"

"Nature’s deity will bless her," Garrett tried to reassure her. Don’t touch me! Stay away from me! I only have this one robe, it’s better to minimize cross-contamination, just a little bit less is better!

But he still had to keep smiling:

"Ma’am, are you feeling unwell too? Let me take a look at you..."

Garrett’s examination speed was fast. From questioning to medical history, he didn’t spend more than three minutes on each patient. After making the rounds, five or six more patients were brought into the big wooden house, and the first old lady was already holding a ceramic bowl, drinking the sugar-salt water poured by Aurora.

"Boss! I’m done! What else do you need?"

"...Go find a large wooden tub..." After calculating in his mind, Garrett realized that handwashing needed some intervention; he couldn’t let the villagers do as they pleased. Whether it was with a water tank or a dipper, there was a risk of cross-infection.

While he continued to examine patients, the large tub was soon delivered. Garrett directed people to place the tub at the entrance of the toilet, took out a bell, and recited softly:

"Time is money, my friend!"

The little demon responded. Garrett gave him a gold coin, rushing to give orders:

"Demon, you carve a hole in the bottom of the wooden tub, close to the bottom, then connect it to the tap... The valve on the tap must be like this..."

In a few words, along with a drawing, he outlined what he needed. A spare piece of iron was thrown out, and the little demon stretched out his hands, silently melting, reshaping, and solidifying in the light. When the light disappeared, the foot-operated water tap Garrett wanted was securely attached to the tub.

It should be fine now... Fill it with water, throw in some bleach, disinfect, and it can be used for handwashing. Later, when I go to check on the patients, disinfection and cleaning, let Aurora handle it...

Garrett pondered to himself. Before he could finish his breath, chaos suddenly erupted in the wooden house. A dozen voices called out at the same time:

"Priest! Priest!"

"I’m coming!"

Garrett rushed over.

In the center of the wooden house, a giant man—whether he was called Burton or Aug—was kneeling, holding a limp little girl. The girl’s bright red hair hung down like withered leaves, her lips were dry, her eye sockets were sunken, and her chubby cheeks were starting to look shriveled. When he lifted her hand, wrinkles were clearly visible.

Damn it!

At least moderate dehydration, and it might even be progressing to severe! At this stage, hydration alone won’t work, it’s a bunch of dangers!

The first old lady Garrett treated and the young woman next to her anxiously huddled around the little girl. Seeing Garrett come in, the two of them looked up, almost throwing themselves at his legs:

"Priest! Save little Florla! Save her! Our son Stan died in battle last year, and we only have her left!"

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