Chapter 103

103. This Won’t Do (2)

****

Anne tilted her head in confusion.

Istina—Professor Asterix’s graduate student… Why has she come? Could it be she noticed I stole the auscultation device a few days ago?

“What is it?”

“I came to return the auscultation device.”

Ah, so there’s truth to the saying ‘a thief feels guilty when they see their own shadow.’ Anne panicked internally. However, Istina seemed utterly unaware of why Anne was acting strange.

She just looked kind of tired.

“Huh?”

“Why the surprised face?”

Anne awkwardly fiddled with her hair.

If I knew she’d bring it as a gift, I wouldn’t have stolen it in the first place! Still, Anne carefully accepted the package in question.

“Thank you. Should I pass this on to Professor Croftler?”

Anne nodded. I already have one, but now it’s too late to admit I stole it. Guess that’s that.

Istina gave an uneasy bow and stepped back from the situation. The uncomfortable conversation ended there.

Sighing as she left, Istina thought to herself:

One auscultation device successfully delivered. Forty-nine more to go. It’s gonna be a long day.

****

It’s outpatient clinic time again. A routine task for the most part, but there was something to look forward to today: Natalie is coming back.

I was curious.

Did the medicine work? Did she even take it? Was it too strong, so she stopped? Or did she think it made no difference, so she didn’t bother?

I’ve heard such cases are common.

Patients with attention deficit often forget things and struggle to follow schedules. Many don’t take their meds on time. That’s why I prescribed her only one pill per day—but I don’t know how it went.

“Miss Natalie, please come into the clinic.”

The door opened.

“Hello.”

I watched Natalie walk into the clinic. Medicine can be terrifying. Just by the way she entered, things were clearly different this time.

What was Natalie like last time?

Before she even finished hearing the invitation, she burst through the door, started fiddling with stuff on my desk, and talked nonstop.

Not this time. Natalie calmly walked in, sat down without breaking or touching anything, behaving like any ordinary person.

Strange.

“How did the medicine feel?”

“Well… I’m not really sure if it worked.”

Her eyes looked different compared to last time.

Compared to before, Natalie no longer seemed anxious or restless, though she might not consciously notice it herself.

“You’re not quite sure?”

“It feels like my mind is clearer, but nothing dramatic stands out.”

I nodded.

“Do you know why patients sometimes don’t strongly feel the effects of medication?”

“No?”

“Amphetamine is a drug for normal people. If someone like me or someone without the condition took it, we wouldn’t just brush it off.”

There’s always mystery involved.

“That’s fascinating.”

“Exactly. Most likely, many of the behaviors caused by your condition weren’t done consciously or intentionally.”

“Really?”

“That’s the nature of the disorder. Even if excessive actions decrease, you might not notice yourself. How about the reactions from those around you?”

Natalie tilted her head.

“Not sure…”

“Think about it. Compare it to last time. Last time, you told me everything, including the colors of stray cats near your dormitory. But this time, you’re thinking carefully before answering.”

I could see it. Even if Natalie doesn’t realize it, the people around her must have noticed the difference. Her tone alone had changed significantly.

“Oh, that’s true…”

“Yes. When was the last time you took the medicine?”

“Uh…”

“Didn’t you skip a few days, then remember you had to come here, so you took it right before arriving?”

“Wh-How did you know?”

“It’s typical for the condition. Did taking the medicine help with work or studying?”

“Somewhat. Daily tasks seem easier, but I’m not entirely sure.”

“There’s nothing more important than daily life.”

Natalie nodded. Though I was the one who convinced Natalie to try the medicine, seeing how much she had changed made me feel a bit uneasy.

“Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder happens because the brain’s reward circuit is damaged. That’s why people with the condition struggle with planning and execution.”

Think of it like an organ. Just like someone with fewer fingers finds writing difficult, having a damaged or missing brain circuit makes planning hard.

“Is that so?”

“Some people manage due to high intelligence or other strengths.”

I pulled out a prepared bottle of medicine from my desk drawer and placed it on the table. Natalie stared at it silently.

“Yes.”

“Regardless of your abilities or intelligence, your ability to execute plans has weakened. This is something that can be treated with medication.”

“Do I have to take it every day?”

I shook my head.

“You can take it when necessary. Honestly, telling you to take it daily would be pointless since you’d likely skip doses anyway. Take it during exams or important meetings. Never take more than one pill per day.”

Right, I forgot to mention that. Natalie reached out, but I grabbed the bottle again.

“The medicine I give you absolutely must not be given to anyone else. This calming effect is only for you. For normal people, it’s a drug. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“Never share it with others.”

Natalie vigorously nodded, then took the bottle. Hopefully, there won’t be any issues.

“Thank you so much!”

“I have one more thing for you.”

Natalie bowed slightly. I opened the desk drawer again and placed a toy in front of Natalie—a fidget spinner.

A gadget you can spin with your fingers.

The round device hummed softly as it spun. It was something I custom-ordered after diagnosing Natalie a few days ago.

The spinner gradually slowed down. After staring at it for a while, Natalie finally looked up.

“Are you giving me this too?”

“Yes.”

You probably don’t need instructions. Just spin it. While it might not have noticeable effects on normal people…

The immediate feedback of spinning providing instant gratification could appeal to ADHD patients.

While there’s no medical proof that spinners treat ADHD, I’ve seen some people benefit.

Worth a try. Natalie held the spinner in one hand and spun it absentmindedly.

The fidget spinner wasn’t loud. There was just a soft metallic sound.

“Um, teacher?”

“Yes?”

“No one, not even other healers, ever said I might have a condition. Some called me weird, but…”

It’s a common occurrence. It happened in my past life, and it seems worse here.

“That’s because they don’t understand. You lack the neural circuits for certain tasks. It’s no different from criticizing someone for lacking limbs. What’s needed is proper management of the condition.”

This society still retains many medieval and barbaric aspects. People with visible wounds can’t even get help, let alone those whose symptoms are confined to the mind.

“I’ve never met a teacher who cared enough to diagnose and offer solutions like this.”

Natalie seemed genuinely moved. I nodded and closed her medical record.

“Yeah, well… I’m waiting for the next patient. Come back if you have any issues.”

As touching as moments like these are, I’m busy. Natalie nodded and left the clinic.

****

Dean Fisher sat at his desk, deep in thought, staring at the newly received auscultation device and manual. He’d just been gifted this by a very exhausted-looking graduate student of Professor Asterix.

Maybe she’s surprisingly kind.

Though, it’s probably expected.

If auscultation truly helps assess patient conditions, spreading this technique as quickly as possible could save more lives.

In that sense, it might be worth funding personally. Last time during the auscultation lecture, I observed the graduate student diligently taking notes.

Let’s see.

What did Professor Asterix write? Five points on the heart, both sides of the lungs. Possible diseases based on sounds heard.

More I read, the more amazed I am. When exactly did he research and write all this? Even if I tried, I’d understand it eventually, but this is revolutionary.

What used to involve merely pressing an ear against a patient’s back has evolved into a potential art form with this instrument and methodology.

Actually, I’ve considered this before. The fact that Professor Asterix distributed the stethoscopes freely was also unusual.

He could’ve easily monetized this. Selling the devices at high prices or publishing the auscultation method as a paper for personal gain.

“Well then… I’ll be going…”

Istina bowed politely and quietly exited the dean’s office, leaving the contemplative dean behind.

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