In Chapter 1, in what ways is the writer a boon for medical students and his family doctor?

In Chapter One, Jerome is a hypochondriac; he maintains that he can't read a medical advertisement without concluding that he has the same ailments described in the circular. One day, in the British Museum, he reads a medical book about diseases and frantically concludes that he has experienced every disease described in the book. Despite a macabre satisfaction with this knowledge, Jerome finds himself perturbed that he has not had housemaid's knee.

After a time laboring over his supposed ill-luck, he eventually comes to the conclusion that he should count his blessings; after all, he has had every disease in the book, and one less disease would not matter in the big scheme of things. It is at this point that Jerome comes to the conclusion that he would be a boon to medical students.

With every disease known to mankind residing in his body, all the students would have to do would be to analyze him. They would not have to walk the halls of any hospital in search of diseases to study. Of course, this conclusion represents Jerome's own view and may not necessarily be shared by the medical students themselves. Rather, in studying a patient such as Jerome, they may come to quite different conclusions. Indeed, studying a hypochondriac may serve its own medical purposes, quite different from those the hypochondriac himself envisions.

As for Jerome's family doctor, having a patient such as Jerome may well be a financial boon in itself. A hypochondriac tends to imagine that he has every disease under the sun, and he often needs to see his doctor. In the story, we get the idea that the family doctor's nonchalant attitude is indicative of his frequent encounters with Jerome. As for his doctor's unconventional remedies, Jerome admits that they are quite efficacious and that he benefits from them on a frequent basis. So, from all indications, Jerome is a great financial boon to his family doctor.

And they didn’t give me pills; they gave me clumps on the side of the head.  And, strange as it may appear, those clumps on the head often cured me—for the time being.  I have known one clump on the head have more effect upon my liver, and make me feel more anxious to go straight away then and there, and do what was wanted to be done, without further loss of time, than a whole box of pills does now.

You know, it often is so—those simple, old-fashioned remedies are sometimes more efficacious than all the dispensary stuff.