Menachem leaned forward to let the doctor at his head. He winced when he was near the wound, "Yeah it hurts there!" Of course the pain was obvious and luckily didn't seem more severe. The man was calm as he searched his hair, feeling very humiliated he had to be checked in such a disgusting state but at least he was alive. He winced again as the man found a knot on the back of his skull, "Ah, it kinda stings there!" He said quickly.

Luckily Tristan had seen a great deal of filth during his career, and he was not much disturbed by the man's current unhygienic state. Alright, perhaps we would wash with a bit more scrutiny later on, but he did not show any disgust now.

"Here?" he asked, and he touched the bump again carefully. He parted the hair a little, so that he could inspect the spot. "How did you obtain this specific injury, and how long ago?"

Menachem winced as the man checked the swollen spot. "I bumped my head when I first fell. So it's been a few days. Does it look really bad?" He asked while staying as still as he could. The man reached slowly for the glass and carefully drank a small bit more.

"A mild infection. We'll clean that out in a bit," he said, feeling the rest of the skull. There was the bump and infected wound, but judging from the clarity of the man's speech, and the lack of apparent pressure under the skull, there were no severe head injuries. "Before I treat that and tend to that foot, let me check your spine and torso. If you'd remove your upper clothing please. Any injuries or pain there?" He figured that if there had been internal bleeding, the man would have succumbed already, but there could still be fractures or other injuries that required his attention first.

Menachem winced as he sat up. "I know I hit my back on the way up. It's been hurting a bit."

He peeled off the shirt with a wince and sucked in his breath then tossed it to the floor. He looked the doctor up and down and cracked a tired smile. "Think we were the same size? You let me borrow something and burn this stuff? I'll get you paid back.'

He dropped his arms the moment the shirt was gone and leaned forward some so his back could be checked.

Tristan smiled back but he didn't like the request. The man said he had family in town, yet here he was, all alone. And he looked as though he had come walking straight out of the workhouse before dropping into that pit. Tristan wouldn't like the idea of someone else wearing his clothes in the first place. He was even more reluctant to lend any to a person who might not even pay him for the treatment, and might as well run off with his things. "Let's get you patched up first, before you collapse," he said to buy time.

He inspected the man's torso, feeling the spine for anything that felt wrong, and then pressing gently on a bruise on the ribs. No signs of a fracture.

Menachem nodded as his exposed torso revealed some small scars here and there, a few old enough he must have gotten them when he was much younger. He sucked in his breath when the man pressed on the bruise. "I told ya.. I think it's mostly.. scrapes and bumps. I'm tough. As long as I got out of there.. I'd be fine." He said feeling like he could still drop dead. He sipped his water again slowly.

"You have some bruised ribs on this side. Must have hurt a great deal." Tristan commented. "But no fractures. You're lucky your lungs are alright." He inspected where the kidneys and liver were, but didn't find any damage. "Alright. I'll bandage that later. Put your things back on for now, or you'll catch a cold on top of everything else." He turned to the ankle and gently moved it. "Tell me when it hurts."

Menachem nodded and gave a pained laugh. "Lucky, that's me. I'm just a tough guy." He carefully pulled his shirt back on. When the doctor grabbed his ankle, he could feel the swelling and the other man hissed when he tried to turn it. "That fucking hurts!" He said but tensed and grabbed the table he was sitting on tightly.

He couldn't believe what he was going to do, but he winced as he took a moment to speak. "Maybe.. you can help me get a letter to my brother. You might know him, his wife? I think just had a baby.. or was about to? I don't know exactly where they live. But I swear he's my brother..' He laughed weakly. "Uriel Meijer? He might help me out." He didn't want to ask anyone in town for help, especially his baby brother whom he'd been nice enough to not get involved with. But he didn't feel like wandering around aimlessly to find a place to stay and heal up for the night, especially since he had a bad feeling the doctor wasn't going to be nice and give him some clean clothes.

Tristan let go of the ankle for a moment, startled by the strong language. Then he continued his inspection and also inspected the foot.

"Mr. Meijer's your brother?" he asked, glancing up at the man's face. The notion seemed so absurd. But then he remembered that he already knew two Meijer brothers who were very different from one another. Why shouldn't a third be entirely different from the other two as well. His interest was piqued.

If he hadn't cared about being a good doctor, he would have suggested getting in touch with Mr. Meijer the lawyer for the bill instead. Mr. Uriel Meijer might help him out. The other Meijer hadn't even been mentioned.

"Yes, I have met them. I'll send a boy to fetch him. He can help get me get you to their place. It would be better if you could take a wash before I bandage you." And then he wouldn't need to bother lending the man clothes.