Erythropoiesis 2.6
"We need to act fast! Mark, what's the situation?"
Calmly nodding to Martha, I touched the gray fur of the dog with my hand. A Husky, to be exact. Injured because someone hit her, fleeing the scene of the accident in the process. However, the last part concerned me least of all right now, and all my thoughts were connected to how to save the animal. I felt that it had already lost a lot of blood, so we had to hurry. In theory, the dog needed to be taken to a proper veterinary clinic, however, its owner didn't have insurance or the necessary funds to pay for the treatment. So where did he go?
Of course, to the local shelter, which over a few years had gained the reputation of a place where they are capable of helping any animal and not only. After all, there was a doctor who had graduated from a rather prestigious university, and a full-fledged supe, albeit a young one, who could do things more bizarre than any device. And it was also influenced by the fact that we work practically for free, charging only for the medications and bandages used. Now this was entirely Martha and Bob's idea, and I had no desire to argue with them about it.
"I see internal bleeding... the tear isn't that serious, I can hold it, but a full surgery is needed here," I look up at the young girl in her twenties, who was looking at her dog with worry, "call Johnson's clinic. He'll get everything ready there, and we'll get the dog to him just in time for the start of the surgery. Don't worry, he'll give us a discount—the old man still owes me."
At first, as planned, I visited the Doutle family two or three times a week. Initially, I really just walked around, examined the animals with my "blood vision", and told them who had what problems. Of course, I only understood blood, however, it would be criminal to underestimate what it's capable of. With the help of the scarlet liquid, I could also figure out problems with blood vessels, internal organs, muscles, and even bones, although that was the hardest. Mostly I saw displacements and fractures, but that was also useful. However, as soon as I told them about the majority of ailments in literally every little animal on the farm-shelter, Bob and Martha literally grabbed their heads.
At first, I didn't quite understand their reaction, because I was simply showing what I was capable of and that every living organism has its problems, but soon it was my turn to be surprised. Hearing about the myriads of diseases and problems the animals had... they started helping everyone. Not immediately, but after making a list with my help of who needed help the most at the moment, but then they truly set about helping. The sickest animals were treated first, and I played a significant role in this! Rob and Martha quickly realized that I was smarter than my age, which is why they started treating me as a fully sentient being.
Such an attitude, honestly, won me over, which is why I gave it my all and started visiting them as many as five times a week, right after classes and training. I spent several hours training my ability anyway, and here the development went even faster. After all, at the farm, I encountered a real problem practically every day, which rarely repeated, which forced me to practically use my power in a wide variety of ways. Hemorrhages, for instance, I can stop with a single glance. This became the final sign, after which I truly started dedicating a lot of time to the shelter. And three years later, I was sure I hadn't made a mistake.
"Then let's move as fast as possible." Bob nodded to me and immediately sprang into action, starting to move the dog onto a cart along with Jim. He acted as carefully as possible, trying not to cause the poor animal any more pain.
Next began the game against time. I continued standing next to the dog, which they began carefully placing into the car. After long years of training, my powers were sufficient to control practically the entire circulatory system... of an animal. I hadn't tried pulling off such complex tricks with humans yet, since no one allowed me to treat them. Except I felt that the process itself wasn't fundamentally very different.
Over time, more and more individuals appeared who were interested in my power. People with animals often came to the shelter, lacking money or insurance for help at a hospital, which is why they turned to Martha. Besides, there wasn't even a doctor of her level here, as people believed the actions of a professional. However, quite quickly they noticed me and the fact that I wasn't just walking around next to the doctors, but was an important element of the treatment. Everyone reacted the same way when they saw how, with a single glance, I diagnosed most of the ailments of their pets and not even just them.
Interacting with such a number of people, whom I examined with my sense, I could sometimes walk up to a random person and quietly tell them bad news about their health. Unfortunately, most often it was cancer. The more I used my power, the more often I realized how horrifyingly widespread the plague of the twenty-first century is. Approximately one in thirty was afflicted by it, although they might not even suspect it.
It was easiest for me to find blood and lymph cancer—I felt them very distinctly, however, in rare cases I could also notice the presence of metastases, cancer cells in the blood, which made me use my power to the fullest and search for tumors. Most often, I found them. At first, I felt extremely uncomfortable bringing a person such bad news, however, time does its job, and all people grow callous. Years later, I felt nothing but a slight sadness when my emotionless voice seemingly delivered a sentence.
But besides cancer, there were many other diseases I reported. And I would have stopped doing this if people hadn't often returned to me, thanking me for my words. Fortunately or not, I was insanely accurate in my diagnoses. I thought about going to help in a full-fledged hospital, but there were far more bureaucratic procedures involved, and even connections didn't help in this matter. Right now, at least, there was nothing I could do.
We were driving in Bob's car, which was specially equipped to transport sick animals of various species. Not for the first time, after all. It was inconvenient to maintain the ability while moving, however, I was already used to such motion. Dogs and cats, horses and cows, I had already pulled this off several times, and with each new case, I only got better. I even already knew how long the whole trip to Johnson's clinic would take, that's how often, unfortunately, we made this "journey".
Since American public hospitals truly charged exorbitantly, we took animals that needed a surgeon's help to a friend of the family. Ivan Johnson, at the combination of whose first and last name I still chuckled slightly, was an elderly man in his sixties who had been operating on animals in his private clinic for three decades already.
The best professional in our town, however, we managed to negotiate a very large discount with him for animals from the shelter. Largely because he is a close friend of Bob and Martha, and I generally helped him with his legs, finding thrombosis in his lower left limb, the existence of which he didn't even suspect. Realizing that I had practically saved his life and that we simply wanted to help others, he agreed to assist us in the matter of treating animals. Not all of them, of course, but such bad cases were, fortunately, not a frequent occurrence either.
As soon as we arrived at the clinic, Jim and Bob moved the injured dog onto a stretcher and carried it into the hospital, while Martha and I monitored its condition. Mary had already called the old man, which is why he met us practically at the very entrance. A rather short gray-haired man watched the animal and our actions with an icy gaze, after which he started giving instructions to the nurses and his assistants. Then the professionals stepped in, leaving only Martha and me in place, who began briefly explaining what was happening. I continued to keep the bleeding within normal limits, slowly starting to step away from the dog. I could maintain its condition even from dozens of meters away, but the closer I was to the blood, the easier the process.
"How is her condition?"
It took me some time to realize I was being addressed. Turning my head, I met Johnson's already familiar assistant, who had helped him during several surgeries.
"Everything is fine for now. I'm holding the wounds and bleeding, but help is still needed as soon as possible."
The doctor nodded to me, after which he briskly ran off somewhere. Well then, another surgery. I cast a glance towards the poor dog—it was sleeping now, after the administered drugs, however, one could tell by its muzzle that it was in pain. I exhaled heavily, looking at it. The next few hours would be difficult, so I sent messages to my parents that I would be delayed and would only come back by evening. Time to get to work.
. . .
Sighing heavily, I sat in the chair, wiping the sweat from my forehead with my hand. Even though my blood manipulation skills were high, maintaining the ability for hours was hard even for me. The surgery lasted six hours, during which I stood in the adjacent room and watched what was happening. My task was to monitor the dog's condition and sustain life in it, which included preventing... all sorts of things. Accidental bleeding in such a situation can lead to death, but I easily dealt with such problems.
The difficulty was also in not interfering with the surgeon, however, we have been working together for quite a while, and he roughly knows what I can do. And as an indicator of our efficiency, as a result of our joint work, not a single animal has died during surgeries yet. We paid for this with liters of sweat, however, the result was worth it. Seeing how an animal starts breathing quietly without problems and no longer experiences pain... And then, after all, there are also the happy pet owners appearing.
But in these moments I try to hide somewhere far away. I liked acting heroically, however, I didn't particularly like meeting praise. And so now, in order not to meet dozens of gazes, I was in Johnson's office. The tired surgeon was also here, and he didn't look any better than me. For a man of his age, such surgeries become harder and harder with every year. However, the old man always tried to seem unbending and, I suspect, towards the very end he stood purely on willpower. I liked sitting like this in his office, because he was one of the few people who treated me like an adult.
I don't know how long we just sat like this and thought about our own things. Recovering from the long use of my power, I temporarily stopped keeping it activated and simply enjoyed the silence in my own mind. It was an incredibly pleasant feeling, during which you could think about nothing and simply... be. Ivan also didn't say anything and just sat in his chair and looked to the side. However, any idyll comes to an end when my phone vibrated from an incoming message. Quickly taking it out, I quickly read it, after which I sighed. The surgeon turned his head in my direction.
"Parents, huh? It's already late, you should head home. I'll order a taxi. You did a good job today."
He had a deep, clearly senile voice, in which one could feel self-confidence.
"No need, Bob and Martha will drive me home. Just... want to say thank you for responding," I answered.
The old man simply shrugged his shoulders, while not a single muscle twitched on his face.
"It's nothing. Thank you for helping them," the old man said.
For a while, the office fell into silence again. However, before I got up from my seat, the doctor took out some stack of papers from his desk.
"Here. I'm sure this will interest you."
He handed me the papers, which I immediately started reading quickly. The surgeon waited silently for me to finish, and started speaking only when I looked up in bewilderment. Because as soon as I skimmed through the very first lines, all my fatigue instantly disappeared, and I became maximally concentrated. Such important information invigorated me much stronger than any coffee or energy drink. The letters he handed me were nothing less than offers of admission to universities. And not ordinary ones, but the elite, the true major leagues. Stanford, Harvard, Hopkins University... offers of already paid tuition with a scholarship included. A very, very good scholarship. Except I can't understand...
"How?"
"Letters from my acquaintances. From New York, Boston, and Los Angeles mainly. I know you don't seek fame, however, the eyes of the public are always fixed on supes. Whether you want it or not. And even if you haven't shown yourself much, you have helped many people, and the public has gradually begun to learn about you. And people really liked your story."
After that, he handed me not letters anymore, but some newspaper. In it, I immediately saw a photo of myself helping a python that a tourist had brought to the shelter a couple of days ago. I don't know why he took a snake with him on a trip, but it got injured while being transferred to another enclosure, and he went specifically to us first thing, having found some good reviews on the internet.
That was a difficult day, and we helped the reptile until the very evening, however, we managed without surgery, and the scaly one left the shelter perfectly fine. The tourist guy looked maximally grateful to us, and especially to me, when I told him about the initial affection of his own lymph nodes. After such a trick, his jaw almost dropped, however, he quickly recovered and began thanking me with a smile. I remembered this case, because more often I meet rejection, incomprehension, or downright aggression when telling people about their fate.
Well, and because it's simply pleasant when you are finally praised for the work you've done. I don't particularly need anyone's recognition, however, it wouldn't hurt. Only now I understand that this someone clearly turned out to be a big shot, helping whom attracted the public's attention to my person. And not just as some smart schoolboy who competes in olympiads, but as a true hero.
"You shouldn't underestimate the power of the masses. That guy you helped is some famous actor and model. It's even funny that I found out about this before you did, even though your generation is on the internet much more than mine. Many acquaintances from different medical universities have already contacted me, having somehow found out about our collaboration, and made all these offers," he pointed at the letters, "The one you helped recently is apparently some internet star who posted photos on his page of you helping the injured beast. That picture gained popularity online yesterday, and hundreds of statements from people about how you helped them appeared in the comments under it. Saved someone's animal or told them about a diagnosis, thanks to which people could start treatment in time and thus save a life. Even though our town isn't particularly big and people here aren't that immersed in the web yet, someone was found to tell about you."
Alright, here I truly made a mistake. My life was full of all sorts of activities, which is why I didn't have time for social networks, however, I somehow didn't even think that my work would lead to this. At the very beginning, I came to the shelter because I suspected that by helping others long enough, I would be noticed, however, after a while I completely forgot about it. I just started helping, forgetting about fame. And popularity came somehow... simply. Literally in the middle of a workday. And not for doing something great or incredible, but simply because I helped others.
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