"BLERRGH!" Arthur lifted himself out of the bush.
Did I eat something bad? He thought while looking down at the brown slurry that just exited his mouth.
Was the food poisoned, or not properly cooked?
Class will start soon, but I should get this checked out.
"Ahhh—" Arthur voiced, doing as the doctor instructed, while they moved a flat wooden stick around his mouth.
They pressed down on the tongue, looked under it, and expanded the view on the sides of the mouth before removing the stick.
"Well, there doesn't seem to be any problems with your tongue's motor function. There is no abnormal redness, inflammation, or lesions; your teeth and gums are healthy; your oropharynx, tonsils, and uvula are fine; your airways are clear, and the thickness of your saliva is normal."
"I'll test your blood now."
Another person dressed in white brought up a syringe; the glass vial seemed to be five centimeters in diameter, and a little more than twelve centimeters in height.
Thump. Was the sound made as the needle pierced into the blue vein at a 15-degree angle relative to the skin surface; into the vein in the middle of the medial side of the elbow.
It was held there, with the piston continuously being pulled for a minute until the vial was filled, and the needle was removed. A powder was poured onto the site of puncture, and the wound closed.
The doctor prepared a table in this time: with an empty black-metal bowl, and several Chartulae, small folded pieces of paper, each with powders inside of varied color.
"Thank you," he said to the nurse as they handed him the filled syringe.
"You can watch if you'd like," he said in the direction of no one in particular as he began pushing the piston down; but Arthur took it as an invitation and stepped up behind him.
"Watch as the red blood changes color." He picked up one of the Chartulae, and poured the powder into the solvent of blood.
He poured in another, then picked up a neon-blue construct in the shape of a rod, and stirred the solution until it became clear enough to see the bottom of the bowl.
I've never seen Pigment Analysis in-person before. Arthur watched intently. He turned the blood clear for the Blood Test; the powders he puts in will change the color of the blood a color corresponding to which condition I have.
One by one, the doctor poured every last particle of powder, stirring them well each time; yet the change in color never came.
"There are no visible symptoms of illness, you don't have a fever or cough, you don't sound sick, and no abnormalities were found in your blood. You said you don't feel sick anymore; I don't think you're sick."
He picked up a writing instrument with his notepad, and made the sound of some pencil markings before ripping the top paper off, and handing it to Arthur.
"Get to class and give this to your teacher; it will excuse you from any intense physical activity for the next twenty-four hours."
He held the paper out at half-full extension to Arthur; but when he went to reach for it, he sharply pulled it away.
"You lost a lot of blood today; make sure you drink plenty of water and eat full nutritional meals."
Then he extended it forward, about three-quarters to him.
"Let me know if you throw up again!" He called out in a moderately high decibel.
"For sure, Doctor!" Arthur called out below.
"Did you log all steps taken, and the eight alternative methods of approach?" the doctor asked, turning his back to Arthur.
"Yes," a voice replied from the corner.
"Well then, there's nothing left for you to do here; you've monitored five of every clinical operation, and have performed them all yourself perfectly. You've earned qualification in every field offered at the Academy, and completed your required Research Project, in addition to six others. Do you want me to give you my job?"
"Haha, I appreciate the offer, Doctor, but I'll have to decline."
"Are you sure? It pays pretty well."
"I'm looking for something else."
"Hm. So what will you decide to do?"
"I'm still working on that."
"I see. Well, good luck with that patient; you'll be taking care of him for the next five months; if there's anyone who can help him, it's you."