Patient: Man, female, adult
Syndrome: Fractured knuckles
Treatment: Splint
Silver visited the infirmary to have me look at and mend an injury on her hand. A quick examination showed that she had struck a hard surface with her fist, but why she did not simply admit to it when asked, I fail to understand. I question patients that drag on treatment for they cannot admit to what has happened. This woman seems no less of a fool than others.
As they suspected, she has stolen the gem. An attempt was made to have her leave it behind so that it may be returned, but she refused; as he had predicted.
Perhaps the confirmation shall be enough to bring me into the man's good graces and he shall leave me be.
I do not enjoy this feeling of possibly being watched, needing to look over my shoulder and unable to continue my experiments in fear he may try to stop me or ruin my supplies and efforts. I grow restless from it all.
It still puts me at unease that she has been made aware of the previous patient. I shall have to speak with Catalinna and Aeruthuil. While I find it unlikely that either of them spoke with the woman, I cannot rule it out.
Then there is Mildwynn. I do not enjoy the thought that she may be the one who spoke to her. Given her previous teachings in the field, I would assume she'd not speak of patients she's treated. I'll have to find time and means to speak with her as well.
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Patient: Man, female, adult
Syndrome: Snakebite
Treatment: Cut out the bite, Ammonia
Catalinna continues to baffle me.
She arrived to the Soothery, her hand discoloured, her breathing strained and heartbeat irregular.
She had only been bitten a few minutes prior and so I hope to have caught it in time. The bite was removed and ammonia poured where it used to be to neutralize any venom remaining. I'll need to keep an eye on her throughout the night and make sure that she is stable. If not, I may have to inject the liquid into her vein directly.
Thinking back on our conversation, I find myself surprised about her questions and her lack of surprise or shock when I gave her my answers. I cannot be bothered with lies, it takes too much effort to remember, but I start to wonder if I may have been too blunt and honest.
She has become a familiar face and someone I am used to, but is it possible that I've become too trusting of her? There have been those I've considered friends in the past, but they have long gone. My trust in them faded and regret of things spoken to them linger instead. There is still one that I can trust with my thoughts, one whose trust I shall never doubt.
If the man still watches, perhaps I can give some sign for him to come speak with me. Even if I have nothing to give him, the information might be enough to regain my freedom. There are too many ideas that have formed, that I've written and need to be tested, but I cannot while he sits and watches me.
