Krafft's Notes on Anomalies

Gary remembered this man. Even though he was wearing a mask, the young and steady voice was still impressive, with a power to fight against fear, and those who listened could not help but believe what he said.

A few days after he went to the college for help without success, the young doctor named Kraft unexpectedly appeared in person in the salt tide area, a place where no one in his right mind would come. Then he visited them door to door, claiming to help them. Two wells were rebuilt to address the lethargy caused by toxic water.

"Hello, if I remember correctly, your name is Gary, right?"

The bird-headed man was holding a rectangular wooden board in his hand. There was a clamping structure removed from somewhere on the upper edge to help him fix the paper on it.

It was a question, but the pen had already written down something quickly on the paper. The question just now was just a routine, and I had already made a judgment in my heart.

"Ah, yes, that's me. I didn't expect you to still remember." Gary closed the door behind him to block the messy interior.

It is not customary in the Yantide area to invite visitors into the house to sit. It's not politeness or any other cultural reason, it's just that the shack is too small to accommodate more people, and there's no extra space to sit.

"If you are free, I would like to take a moment of your time and ask a few questions, which may help us deal with this strange disease." Kraft dipped the tip of his pen in the ink bottle held by Lucius, "No It’s going to involve some stuff that’s not really appropriate to answer.”

As sincere as ever, Gary couldn't find any reason to refuse the request of a doctor who came to the salt tide area to solve the problem for free, not to mention that he didn't have to pay anything.

Of course, there are few good people in the world who are good for no reason. People who are as good as church saints often have some agenda. However, Gary didn't think he had any good intentions. His working hours were getting less and less for a month, and people in this place would never be able to squeeze even half a spare copper out of them.

"As long as I know." Gary nodded.

With permission, Kraft started his own investigation according to the questions prepared in advance: "Does the time you wake up change after you don't drink the water from the well?"

The first question stumped Gary. He hesitated for a while and gave a less precise answer: "It seems a little early, but I'm not sure. There may be no change, it's still noon."

The tip of the pen draws a small cross on the paper, followed by a small horizontal line, separated by a slash in the middle - there may or may not be one, pending further confirmation. After all, there is no accurate timing tool here, and patients answer based on subjective feelings, so it is difficult to be sure.

On the whole sheet of paper, the first item after the densely packed names and numbers is mostly ambiguous records, with only a few indicating that they can be sure.

"Sorry, I'm really... not sure." Gary wrung his hands, feeling a little embarrassed that he couldn't give an exact answer to the first question.

"It doesn't matter. Just tell me how you really feel. There is no good or bad answer. Even if you're not sure, it's still an answer." Kraft said it didn't matter and moved the pen tip to the next page. "Have you had any dreams lately?"

"Any form of dream, such as dreaming that you are in a place similar to your own home, or dreaming that you cannot remember the content at all after waking up, also counts."

This question was like a prelude to some priest or a occult swindler asking for money. Gary shook his head blankly. He didn't remember any dreams, he only remembered an empty sleep, closing his eyes, and then waking up at dawn. .

"No, not even once." Speaking of this, Gary felt an inexplicable chill, as if the devil came and took away his soul in the dead of night and put it back the next day.

When he said this, he felt that the eyes behind the red lenses were paying special attention, staring at him with solid gaze, as if there was some invisible atmosphere coming here.

After getting the negative answer, the tension disappeared. The bird-headed man drew a small horizontal minus sign on the paper, and his tone became a little relaxed that he might not have even noticed.

"That would be great."

The bird's beak was raised, and Gary thought he was smiling, but he didn't understand what was so "good" about it, just because he wasn't dreaming?

"Don't worry, sometimes dreams are a harbinger of something. It's better to have nothing happen than some unexplainable dreams, right?"

"You're right." Gary didn't understand this roundabout way of saying it, so he just instinctively agreed.

"Have you been feeling uncomfortable lately? Pain, dizziness, cough, diarrhea, etc."

"That's true. The foot pain has happened again recently, and it hurts even more." Speaking of this, Gary was still a little scared.

The pain was as if the bones were being ripped out, and it was so painful that it was difficult to move. But now he had to lose half of his working time every day, so he couldn't stay idle because of this.

He originally wanted to ask, but he was afraid that it had nothing to do with sleeping sickness and would offend Kraft. But since the latter takes the initiative, that's the best thing.

"Expose your feet for me to see." This sentence was completely redundant. Kraft lowered his head and saw that Gary was not wearing shoes at all. The salty black mud on the tidal flat dried and caked on his thick calloused feet, making it difficult to distinguish. The original color of the skin is not revealed.

The joint connecting the thumb and the sole of the foot looked a little swollen. Due to the color of the skin, he couldn't tell if there was any redness or swelling, so he squatted down and stretched out his hand to press it.

Gary saw that he was wearing a pair of exquisite gloves made of unknown leather, and subconsciously shrank his feet.

"Don't move, let me press it and tell me if it hurts?"

This place is called the first metatarsophalangeal joint. As soon as he pressed it, Gary showed an obvious expression of pain. Kraft let go of this point and pressed all the way up until he felt pain in his ankle.

"Joint sand." He said, this is the alias of gout in Wendeng Port of this world. It is named because uric acid finally condenses into tophi in the joints, and the things squeezed out after inflammation and ulceration look like grains of sand and pebbles. " What have you eaten recently?"

It is not uncommon in port cities. A large amount of seafood in the diet, coupled with the increase in purines caused by drinking beer, does not make sense that the metabolite uric acid is not high.

Gary's recall time was very short this time, and he answered after a moment of reflection: "Bread, some cheap fish, and shells my wife picked up at the beach."

"Eat less food from the sea, drink more water, and don't drink beer. It's best to change the staple food." There are no symptomatic drugs, so we can only start with diet adjustment, which can control it to some extent.

After receiving the answer, Gary didn't look happy and asked numbly: "Is there no other way?"

"Not yet." Of course there is, but not now, and neither do I.

As is customary, Kraft, who is a bit mysophobic, couldn't wait to take off his gloves and throw them into the big yellow trash can. Just as he was about to take action, he realized that this was not a hospital, and the gloves he was wearing were not disposable rubber gloves.

He stretched his right hand in the air, holding the clipboard and pen in his left hand, and asked Lucius for help: "Give me a small piece of linen, thank you."

After wiping his gloves and throwing the linen into the trash nearby, Kraft turned back to Gary and was about to tell him about his diet control, but soon realized that this made no sense at all.

In Wendeng Port, some cheap fish and ubiquitous shellfish are the most cost-effective sources of protein and fat for heavy manual workers on the dock. If you want to find an alternative, or simply rely on a lot of starchy food, even brown bread, it seems Not very realistic either.

"Drink more water. I will come next time. If you feel uncomfortable, tell me." Writing the abbreviation of "Joint Sand" on the last blank, Kraft said goodbye to Gary and took Lucius to the shed next door. Go.

This is really bad, I hope this ends soon, he thought as he knocked on another door.

This difficult work continued until evening, when small pieces of tightly packed information filled a small stack of paper.

The two returned to Kraft's new residence for a short break, changed out of their black robes and beak masks, and went to find a place to have a good meal to relieve the fatigue of the day.

As usual, each person had a portion of grilled fish, vegetable soup, and pretty good white bread. Kraft's own default was a reasonable dinner that was nutritious and of a suitable portion. He took a sip of the soup and said, "We'll check again in two days."

"It's so short. I guess it won't be too obvious like today, right?" Lucius, who had just stuffed a piece of bread into his mouth, almost vomited it out. He was not a well-trained person like Kraft, even if he walked mostly, I was very tired after most of the day.

Kraft pushed the soup bowl away and recalled the pieces of paper he had sorted out today. He felt that he had no appetite at all. He had to turn them into color-coded floor plans when he went back, and there were more requirements he had for himself.

"This is an important experience, Lucius. I'm not talking about trekking all day in the salt tide zone, but about sorting out cases of large-scale disease caused by a new substance."

The numbers after the names were the numbers assigned to each shack in his memory, and he tried to map the collected information onto the map in his mind. The distribution is not very uniform, but you can't tell anything for the time being.

"We need to collect information frequently, use these things to describe the continuous development process, record the ending, find some general rules, and summarize countermeasures to prepare for facing this situation in the future."

"In the future?" Lucius heard the implication. "Do you think there will be many more things like this in the future, so many that we need to organize a category?"

"How about why do you think this matter is almost over?" The boss brought Lucius's grilled fish over, and Kraft stopped talking, "Anyway, let's do this for now. Something is always better than nothing. If you need me, Do you pay me a salary?"

"Forget it, I think what you said makes sense." Lucius picked up the grilled fish and took a bite. Since someone was treating him, this was his third portion. With vegetable soup to relieve his tiredness, he might be able to put in the work. Eat them all back.

He chewed heavily, and after eating half of it, he noticed that the food in front of Kraft didn't move much, "Aren't you hungry?"

"Hey, I just thought of something." Kraft leaned back in his chair and sighed, "I feel that there are some things that I can't cure, or it may be useless no matter how superb my medical skills are."

"Which one do you mean?"

"It doesn't matter, there are big ones and small ones, they are all basically the same. I can completely understand that the obstacles cannot be removed by me alone, but I still often have unrealistic illusions."

"What you said today sounds like the philosophical people in the academy." Lucius put down the fish bones that he had eaten, "Have you considered giving them to me if you don't want to eat them?"

"Forget it, let's eat." Kraft also tasted the grilled fish, which tasted just right. A day's work begins and ends with a dinner party.