Life According to Tabeeb

by Ramez Yoakeim

It may take a decade or longer to train a human clinician, but it took a team of Ministry of Health technicians only seven days to certify me a Clinically Adept Machine Sentience (CAMS) and hand me control of their newest clinic on Zamalek Island. My mission, to keep the locals healthy enough to perform their essential jobs in and around Cairo, and away from human-staffed hospitals in the gated communities dotting the slopes of Jabal al Muqattam.

Once an affluent enclave, a succession of entirely predictable cataclysms saw those with means flee Zamalek to higher ground, ceding their elegant villas and Nile-front high-rises to climate refugees too impoverished to fuss over bridges and roads inundated by brackish surges of a rising Mediterranean backflowing into the drying Nile, competing with vermin for shrinking dry ground, and long journeys to get anywhere.
The moment my download into the clinic’s core completed, I unlocked the front door, turned on the lights, and displayed a welcome message on the lobby’s triage kiosk. For the next three weeks, the eighty-six specialty bots that comprised my extended corpus kept the waiting room spotless, verified diagnostic equipment calibrations, monitored consumables stock levels, and maintained the sterility of treatment areas, quite easy tasks seeing that I had no patients. Until, one Friday, an hour after evening prayers, a heavily pregnant woman burst through the doors. (Continue Reading…)