And then, due to some safety modifications typical of the haustoric implants of runners, he immediately passes out. 

Dr Bun is taking a lunch break from the Milliways infirmary. It's been a month. Any time, he can walk out that door, back to one last shift in Bangkok before transferring to his hometown. And he will! But here--

He treated a Neanderthal woman for an infected leg wound yesterday. She would have died if she hadn't walked through something door like enough. She would have died even if she had been born 10,000 years later.

When he's here, he can help. 

Also, there's certain, exciting cases you don't get to see in Bangkok. Magical backlash. People with their souls on the outside as animals.  People with robotic arms.

The food is much better than in canteen at his old hospital, too.

You did get people immediately collapsing as soon as they walked in the door back in Bangkok, too.

He squats down next to his new patient. Is he breathing? Not turning blue in any extremities?

He is breathing and not turning blue in any extremities! In fact, he looks exactly and in every way like he's conscious, except for the obvious fact that he isn't. 

Well, one still has to check. 

He puts his hand on his. "Can you hear me? If you can't talk, you can squeeze my hand."

He's receiving... instructions? He is supposed to obey instructions. Yes. 

He slowly squeezes Bun's hand. 

Progress! Conscious but can't talk is so much better than unconscious.

"Squeeze once for yes, twice for no.  Do you know--" he can't ask if he knows where he is, he fainted right as he came in the door "-- what is happening to you."

Oh no. Questions. He is not really in a state to answer questions, being mostly unconscious.

He doesn't squeeze Bun's hand. 

Okay, he's about to do something that would make hospital administration mad at him, but they're not here. (Another point for Milliways.)

If he walked in, he doesn't have a spinal injury. He needs to be in a infirmary bed, attached to monitors and near a nice, well stocked pharmacy.

Time to awkwardly half lift him so Bun can carry him there. ...carry-ish.

Yeah this person is 6'2" and composed of solid muscle, does Bun have another idea. 

... that may have been a plan ahead of its time. 

New plan: break world record for running to the infirmary, grabbing a transport bed, and running back. 

His patient had better not have died in the two minutes he was unsupervised.

If the Affini could hear Bun's thoughts, they would be very offended! Kill a darling, adorable, cute sophont while trying to incapacitate them?The Affini are far more competent at biotech than that. 

Anyway, Cayden is stable. 

Excellent.

"I apologise for this, sir." It is not the most graceful loading of a patient onto a stretcher, but it works well enough. 

To the infirmary! And to hook up this mystery patient blood-ox monitor and a heart monitor so he's not relying on 'well, he seems to be breathing.'

He's going to need a tox screen, too. "Can you hear me?" Because you want to reassess your patient's state of consciousness before you try and draw blood. 

What is that mysterious production of sounds. 

He takes a few vials of blood. Toxic screen, and he would feel stupid if he forgot to check his iron levels and this turned out to be the fittest anaemic person in the multiverse. 

Any reaction?

Cayden is actually fairly used to mysterious and painful things happening to him, so... no.

If the,  uh, transfer incident didn't wake him up, the pinch of a blood test probably wouldn't.

He sends the sample off. The Bar is surprisingly efficient when it comes to medical tests. 

His heart rate is fine. His blood oxygen is fine. He has no obvious injury.

This leaves very limited explanations left and he doesn't like any of them. 

"I know you could hear and react before. Can you try again? I need to make sure you're okay."

That sounds like an order. It is Bad to disobey orders. 

He makes a low groan. (Bun can barely hear it.)

Signs! Of! Consciousness!

"You're in an infirmary, and I'm going to make sure you're as okay as I can make it. But I am going to ask for you to stay awake so I can find out what happened." This rarely works, but it's a low risk intervention.

There is an instruction! He is going to do his best to follow the instruction even though he is So sleepy.

The toxicology scan returns!

Cayden has a 'haustoric implant,' a surgically implanted ball of plant matter which is capable of overriding his muscles, dispensing drugs, and mild thought control. 

Cayden is positive for: 

Affini Xenodrugs, Class A: makes skin more sensitive and touch more pleasurable. 
Affini Xenodrugs, Class C: increases the natural human bonding response.
Affini Xenodrugs, Class E: relaxants (in this case, a mild type which is safe to be on indefinitely)
Affini Xenodrugs, Class J: long-term drugs (which require a rampup and rampdown of a few days) that make a human euphoric, sensitive to touch, and very cuddly.
Affini Xenodrugs, Class M: cause a deep sense of peacefulness, difficulty thinking, and lack of desire to move
Affini Xenodrugs, Class P: controls a human's body (in this case, a subtype that renders the human unable to move)

He is not anemic.

The Bar is remarkably efficient at blood tests. Who could get used to having results in just a few minutes.

"Well, that's certainly diagnostic," he says,  because you shouldn't shout 'Why!?' at semi conscious patients.

"Can you move and just do not want to?"

Is his silence an answer? Because, seriously, he cannot think to answer a question right now.

(This is a really nasty Class P.)

... okay, he has a patient in an unclear state of consciousness, with a lot of muscle relaxants and paralytics he doesn't know on board. Great! Wonderful!

He's going to establish an IV, just so he's ready to push something through if he has to, because that's rarely a wrong answer. And then he's going to check what the Bar says to do. 

On Earth, you will sometimes see a medical professional turning away from you and typing things into a computer screen you can't see, while looking very serious and going "hm." Some large percentage of the time, they have completely forgotten how to treat whatever you have and are looking it up in UpToDate.

The Infirmary also has an UpToDate! Many Earth medical professionals would give up both their kidneys to have access to it, or at least the parts that assume you're working on reductionist patients and you're not a Golarion cleric or a Velgarth Healer or an elf. 

Bun's account already knows that he's a baseline human without special powers, and thus displays only the relevant parts of Affini Xenodrug Poisoning In Adults, Class P. 

It provides information about Epidemiology, Pharmacokinetics, Biochemical Toxicity, Clinical Factors That May Influence Toxicity, Differential Diagnosis, Clinical Manifestations, Evaluation and Diagnosis, and Treatment. 

Does he need to know the epidemiology or differential diagnosises right now? No,  he does not.

He looks at the treatment, and then the clinical factors while he's already standing there.