The Healer in the Plague

A healer could treat ten patients well in a day. Truly well — the kind of care that saved lives.

When plague came, a hundred patients arrived each morning.

She could not treat them all. So she chose: those she could save with treatment, she treated. Those who would survive without her, she sent home. Those who would die regardless, she made comfortable.

"Cruel," some said.

"Arithmetic," she replied. Ten treated well meant ten lived. A hundred treated poorly meant none did.