Chapter 124
Just as the cool autumn breeze pleasantly seeped through the crack in the window.
The humidity and heat that had tormented us all summer had finally receded, and at last the season of high skies and fat horses had returned.
And finally, I was able to make one major announcement I'd been itching to make for ages.
The familiar blue screen.
[Dead Doctors Gallery]
========================
[Breaking News, Fucking Urgent Breaking News!!] Hellslave himself makes his TV debut, ㅇㅇ
Author : HellJoseonSlave1
My face is going out over the airwaves.
This is something everyone needs to know.
It's a historic moment.
========================
The moment I hit upload, the views skyrocketed, and the resident ghosts who hung around there day and night started leaving comments.
[Comments]
Anon (211.36) : Is this a school talent show? Hellslave kid?
Descendant of Hippocrates : So the living have taken up theater as a hobby!
Back in My Day : Did you cause an accident? Did it make the news?
ㄴ OR Ghost 3 : I knew this would happen, ㅇㅇ.
Heart-Slicing Bastard : Hellslave, you finally caused a scene. You're not far from joining the gallery now. Welcome.
Why are all the reactions like this?
They're treating me like a criminal just because I'm going on TV.
Just as I was about to leave a comment in frustration, one fixed-nick regular came in and dumped cold water on everything.
God of the Scalpel : This bastard filmed a hospital promotional documentary. It's just complete bullshit, ㅇㅇ.
ㄴ HellJoseonSlave1 : Ah, no spoilers;
ㄴ Anon (211.36) : A documentary? Boooo.
ㄴ OR Ghost 3 : (an emoticon of a character clenching its fists and pounding away)
ㄴ Back in My Day : These days people are told to practice medicine, and instead they're off playing celebrity, tsk tsk.
ㄴ Anon (118.235) : Hellslave, "TV debut" isn't the phrase you use for that.
Anyway, they're useless. Useless.
Still, it's my first ever terrestrial TV debut, so I should watch it with some reverence.
The TV screen switched with dramatic music.
The key was how brilliantly the PD had edited my interview that day.
Let's see.
The first part was....
“Huh?”
Suddenly the screen brightened, and a pastel-toned corridor appeared with a soft-focus filter.
Children's laughter and colorful murals.
“Oh.”
It's not the ER.
It's a children's hospital.
Looks like they really did film the hospital as a whole.
I mean, if they aired sixty minutes of nothing but blood-splattering ER scenes, viewers might choke on their meals.
You need to mix in something heartwarming like this.
Just as I was watching the screen absentmindedly.
On the screen, a young doctor was pressing a stethoscope to a child and wearing the most benevolent smile in the world.
[Son Jongun / Pediatrics]
Pfft!
I nearly spewed the water I was drinking.
“What the hell is that?”
Son Jongun on screen.
I mean, uh, that guy is... just a college classmate.
He'd been keeping the seat next to me at the PC bang since pre-med.
In med school, we barely made it through a year we might have had to repeat together.
As interns, he was the guy who got drunk with me and puked on the sidewalk.
Now he's a second-year pediatrics resident.
Jongun was being interviewed with his hair neatly slicked back and a clean coat on, the complete opposite of his usual scruffy self.
“Honestly, there are plenty of times when my body gets tired. When the night shifts keep piling up, I get worn out too.”
Jongun put on a wistful act, gazing out the window.
“But when I see children taking my hand with their fern-like little hands, all my fatigue melts away. If it means seeing a world where sick children no longer exist, I can stay up all night as much as I want.”
“…?”
I couldn't believe my ears.
What was that bastard even babbling about right now.
I immediately grabbed my phone.
This was an emergency.
Rrrring—
Click.
[What.]
“Jongun.”
[What.]
“I could sense the makings of a con artist in you.”
[What the hell are you spouting all of a sudden.]
“Didn't you always go around at drinking parties yelling that ducking vital checks is for the smart? This older brother is very disappointed. Your fake smile gave me the creeps, and I got goosebumps.”
[What the hell are you talking about, you fucking idiot! Hey! That's all a script the writers wrote!]
“If you go local and end up flopping later, become an actor.”
[What the hell are you talking about, damn it. Hang up!]
Thud.
The call ended.
Anyway, what a boring bastard.
Just because he was embarrassed he got on TV.
You're permanently memorialized as a screenshot in the class group chat.
Once that segment ended and the screen switched, the BGM changed to an urgent drum beat.
Sirens.
The sound of medical staff running in a rush.
“Oh. Here it comes.”
The tense scene of the ER filled the entire screen.
[Han Hyeonjae / Emergency Medicine]
“Oh. That's me.”
I looked better on screen than I'd expected.
Of course, compared to my expectations.
My baseline was just that low.
In reality I was a sweat-soaked mess with matted hair, but maybe because of the lighting or some color correction, I looked pretty professional, which was great.
The screen laid urgent BGM over the scene of me treating the scooter patient and dealing with projectile vomiting, with mosaic censorship.
And then came the interview.
“It's called the lucid interval....”
That was the exact explanation I'd given the PD.
On screen, the parts related to the condition I was explaining were rendered as high-quality 3D animation.
A graphic showing a blood vessel bursting inside the skull, blood pooling, and pressing on the brain.
“This edit's actually pretty good....”
Showing the brain being compressed in line with what I said made it easy for viewers to understand.
And then, the long-awaited line.
“That's why you have to wear a helmet..”
The PD's editing skills are no joke.
Actually, I'd also said something about the skull and all that, but it all got edited out.
They'd packaged me up almost like a top specialist.
The rAAA patient episode that followed after that didn't air.
They must've failed to get the guardian's consent.
They did briefly show my back as I lowered my head and went into the guardian consultation room.
And that was the end of the broadcast.
The ending credits rolled, and commercials came on.
It's really over.
My impression wasn't bad.
At the very least, I didn't come off like a quack.
Rather, I looked so good that the ER staff will definitely tease me when I show up to work tomorrow, which is a little worrying.
“….”
Somehow, it felt hollow.
During my precious break, I spent an hour watching a video of my workplace, my friends, and even myself working.
It was like leaving work, coming home, and then watching work again at home.
“I should've just played a game.”
I flopped onto the sofa with deep regret.
Tomorrow I'll give Jongun a hard time.
While he goes on and on about those fern-like little hands.
***
“Dr. Han! Help me with this intubation here!”
“Yes! Coming!”
…
“Doctor, am I really okay? Earlier my arm suddenly came out of joint and hurt like I was dying, and I thought my arm was ruined...”
“The bones are fine and there was no nerve damage. It's just a simple dislocation. Take this CD to a nearby orthopedic clinic. Or tell the admissions desk, and they said they'd arrange an orthopedic outpatient visit at our hospital if necessary....”
…
“This is the local ambulance! Female in her 30s, anaphylaxis! Severe dyspnea, BP in the 80s!”
“…Ah.”
I ran my dry hands over my face.
Allergic shock right after putting the shoulder back in.
They really don't give me a break.
“I want to quit.”
I blurted out my true feelings and ran.
To crack open an epinephrine ampule.
***
And so, after the stormy morning clinic finally passed, the GOAT time of the workday finally arrived.
The only time I can legally park my butt and zone out.
Lunch time.
I was swallowing meat that tasted like nothing at all.
I was stuffing rice into my mouth, thinking I might watch a webtoon on my phone for a bit.
“Right. Dr. Han Hyeonjae.”
A cool, clear voice called out.
“Why?”
I answered as if I were calm, but I was tense inside.
I get scared whenever Baek Eun-seo, our first-year, calls me.
Because they're bad at the job?
No.
Because they're too good.
And because they're way too academically driven, which is the problem.
I'm terrified of what question they'll ask.
Last time, they asked exactly what the mechanism of action of acetazolamide is in a patient with hypokalemic periodic paralysis.
At 3 a.m., no less.
Though Back in My Day did answer, I'm an emergency medicine doctor.
I'm not an internal medicine specialist.
Go ask nephrology about that, please.
“It's this, actually!”
Baek Eun-seo shoved her smartphone toward my face.
‘...Phone? What horrifying picture is this supposed to show me...’
Another bizarre fracture X-ray and
“ask, ‘Is this a surgical case?’” right?
I narrowed my eyes and looked at the screen.
“Huh.”
It was different from what I expected.
Because... it was me.
Someone had apparently edited the documentary footage from last time into a short-form video and uploaded it.
My coat flapping as I ran, my sweat-soaked hair whipping about.
“Looks like the official account uploaded it as a short-form video and the algorithm picked it up. It got some views, so take a look at the comments.”
[827 comments]
@user-51add8931 : Seriously, so damn cool.
@__xxbin_ : Where's the hospital? Urgent, for real. Where is that place? Heal my heart too—I think my heart hurts right now.
ㄴ @user-00139 : Springfield Hospital.
ㄴ @__xxbin_ : ㅗ
ㄴ @JeongmunTurnOnTheStream : Yup~ I told you~
ㄴ @__xxbin_ : No, seriously, tell me ㅡㅡ
ㄴ@ThousandSubsFromCommentsAlone : To be serious for a sec, even if it really hurts, it's a mild case, so going to a university hospital ER like that is inconsiderate. Because...[more]
“Ugh, the last reply is too long to read.”
I shook my head.
Anyway, the comments overall were the same kind you see on documentaries about firefighters, police officers, or soldiers.
“Somehow, this feels nice.”
“Right? Earlier the other doctors were talking about it too while watching.”
“Keep it down. If the professors hear, they'll tease me again.”
The smile at the corners of my mouth wouldn't go away.
You need this kind of flavor once in a while.
We see blood and get cursed at every day; if we don't at least get some online praise, how are we supposed to keep going?
***
Anyway, after lunch, while I was heading back to the resident room and patting my stuffed belly, just then.
“Hyeonjae.”
Someone called me from the end of the hallway.
It was Professor Cheon.
“Professor. Have you eaten?”
I was about to give a deep bow.
“Come here for a second.”
“Huh? What do you want to talk about? You can say it here....”
“Hurry up.”
Professor Cheon looked around, then led me to a small conference room tucked away in a corner.
……?
When I opened the conference room door, a strange man was sitting inside.
A black suit.
A stiff, hardened expression.
And a briefcase on the table.
He looked suspicious as hell to anyone.
“This is Manager Jung. He's with admin.”
“Ah... hello.”
I greeted him awkwardly.
What is this?
Did the procedure I performed in the helicopter finally turn into a legal issue?
As all kinds of ominous possibilities flashed through my head, the man in the suit silently slid an envelope toward me.
“You're Dr. Han Hyeonjae, correct.”
“Yes.”
“This is a matter that came into the hospital this morning. I need to verify your identity, so I'm delivering it personally.”
With trembling hands, I picked up the envelope.
‘Let's see... on the outside of the envelope... there's nothing?’
I carefully opened the envelope, pulled out the stack of A4 sheets inside, and checked the contents.
The very first page.
The thick Gungsuh-style letters printed at the very top made my heart sink.
[Certificate of Contents]