Chapter 149
“Well, can’t an EM board-certified doctor do a Neonatology fellowship? Haha…”
Professor Hwang Jun tossed out a barbed joke.
I forced down the cold sweat and put on the most regretful expression in the world.
“Oh, Professor! Unfortunately, EM board-certified doctors usually go through the critical care fellowship track, and as far as I know, Neonatology, a subspecialty of Pediatrics, isn’t open to applicants! Really! It’s such a shame it’ll haunt me forever!”
I emphasized the word “really” and defended myself as hard as I could.
This is the law. The rules.
It’s not that I don’t want to—I’m being blocked by the system.
So please give up.
“Is that so?”
“That’s my understanding.”
‘You’re not going to rope me in anyway, Professor. Give it up.
Long live specialized modern medicine.
Then Professor Hwang pulled a thick booklet from the corner of the bookshelf.
[Pediatric and Adolescent Medicine Society Subspecialist Regulations]
‘Is this guy seriously going to try to recruit me? He’s even looking up the regulations?’
It was shocking.
Beside him, Son Jongun was staring at me with his mouth half open in utter disbelief.
While Professor Hwang adjusted his glasses and flipped through the booklet page by page, the two of us exchanged a frantic conversation behind him using our own makeshift sign language.
Son Jongun widened his eyes and pointed at the professor with his chin.
I shrugged and mouthed, ‘I don’t know.’
Son Jongun twirled his index finger beside his temple.
Meaning, have you gone crazy?
When Professor Hwang suddenly made a noise, Son Jongun jumped, flinched, then quietly clasped his hands behind his back and pretended to gaze off into the distance.
“Let’s see. A neonatology subspecialist means, after obtaining a Pediatrics specialist license…
Professor Hwang muttered as he read on.
“Ah. What a shame.”
Professor Hwang shut the book with a slap and clicked his tongue.
“It looks like only Pediatrics specialists can do it. I checked just in case, but there isn’t one.”
‘Phew...’
I let out a sigh of relief to myself.
Was he really trying to recruit me? Seriously?
“Our department professors would probably have their own opinions too, and it’d be a bit much for me to act like I’d somehow pulled this off just because one emergency case happened to go well.”
I kept myself as low-key as possible.
I couldn’t afford to get on his bad side any further.
“Instead, I’m on helicopter duty. Since I might see pediatric patients on the helicopter again, I’ll work hard then.”
I added some flattery to wrap up the conversation on a warm note.
“Is that so?”
Professor Hwang’s eyes lit up.
“Then I can talk to our hospital director or center chief and see about working out a protocol so that when a pediatric patient comes in on the helicopter, Dr. Han here can take point and handle them more directly. Is that all right?”
?
Oh, boy.
I’d fallen into my own trap.
Shit.
Why did I have to bring up the helicopter?
“Haha... yes, if you’d do that, I’d be grateful. It’d be an honor.”
I’m not actually grateful.
Not honored at all.
“Anyway, I’m regrettably unable to maintain any deeper ties with pediatrics, so I’m sorry to say that I…”
I threw out a closing line, trying to get up and leave.
“But.”
Professor Hwang cut me off.
“As far as I know, there’s exactly one exception.”
“Pardon?”
“Pediatric Emergency Medicine subspecialty. I believe that one can be obtained by specialists from any department! Pediatrics, Emergency Medicine, anyone.”
“……”
“Wouldn’t Dr. Han just take the Emergency Medicine board and then enter the Pediatric Emergency subspecialty fellowship? I heard our hospital’s Pediatric Emergency Center is being moved to the Children’s Hospital and expanded too.”
Oh, come on.
Why are you suddenly ruining this for me?
Please just let me go.
Kids are way too hard to treat, guardian complaints are ten times worse than adult cases, veins are impossible to find, medication dosage calculations are complicated, and there’s a mountain of stuff to study.
Just seeing adult patients is already more than enough to wear me out.
“Is that so? I didn’t know that. Haha...”
I forced the corners of my mouth upward.
“I’ll think about it positively.”
“Haha... that sounds less like you’ll consider it and more like you won’t do it. Quite the roundabout way of putting it.”
Professor Hwang gave a snort of laughter.
“No, really! I’ll seriously think about it!”
“Alright, well... let this old crank of a professor hold you up and ask you just one thing.”
Professor Hwang’s expression turned quite serious.
“Then what are you going to do once you get your specialist license? What kind of doctor do you want to be? Go into private practice? Or do you have it in you to stay at the university?”
What kind of doctor.
My thoughts grew a little complicated.
“I’m still thinking it over. I’m not sure yet.”
It was an honest answer.
“Yeah, yeah. Well, a third-year is right around the age to be worrying about that. Anyway... I took up too much of your time this late, didn’t I?”
Professor Hwang checked his wristwatch and looked apologetic.
“Ah, no. I was already off work anyway. It’s fine.”
“No, calling you after work is what means I took up your time, man. If you’re off work, you should be resting.”
Professor Hwang waved a hand dismissively.
“Go on out. You worked hard today. If you have something to talk over with your classmate Jongun, go ahead and talk it out before you leave.”
“Yes, sir! Thank you! Goodbye!”
Without a word, I bowed 90 degrees and opened the door.
Bang!
Slam!
The moment the door closed, the strength went out of my legs.
“Hyeonjae...”
Son Jongun, who came out after me, called me.
“What.”
“I’ll make sure to write your name in my will. Get lost.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
Son Jongun clutched his head.
“You insane ER bastard who just doomed the pediatrics residents and neonatology fellows to euthanasia! Get out of my sight!”
“Aw, come on, seriously. You don’t actually have to buy me a meal? I came to treat you to something.”
The instant I pulled out my wallet and waved it, Son Jongun’s expression softened.
Capitalism is always effective.
“...Just obediently order coffee for delivery and leave. Sandwiches too.”
“I was going to do that anyway.”
For the equipment rental fee, that was cheap.
.
.
.
“Good luck. I’m really leaving.”
“Yeah, go on. Don’t come back again.”
Son Jongun waved his hand.
And so, after handing out the coffee, I was able to slip out of the hospital building like I was fleeing.
Once I stepped outside, the night air felt especially refreshing.
With my hands in my pockets, I walked the night streets, slurping at my iced Americano.
Even though I knew I had to be back at work by tomorrow morning, I didn’t hail a taxi right away.
I wanted to walk a little.
After passing the main gate of the medical campus, where the hospital, medical school, and nursing and health science departments were all huddled together, and stepping out onto a somewhat quieter main road.
I suddenly stopped and looked back at the road I’d walked.
I could see a fairly large building in the distance.
“It’s disgustingly bright even at night.”
I lowered my gaze and quietly looked up at the brightly lit sign of the Emergency Medical Center building.
[24-Hour Emergency Care]
[Busan Regional Emergency Medical Center]
[Nationally Designated Regional Trauma Center]
“Hmm...”
With the straw in my mouth, I started walking again toward the officetel.
Thud.
Thud.
…
“Mom, with my score, even the lower-tier Seoul schools are a bit of a stretch, and Samryong Med is tough too... But there’s Cheongjin University here in Busan, right? It’s got just five spots, and I’m in the likely-admission range? So I’m planning to use my Group A slot on that one. They say the hospital is big too.”
…
“Are you sure you’ll be okay going all the way down there? Will you be able to eat well? Keep in touch every day once you get there. Don’t drink too much and make your mom worry.”
My mother must have been deeply anxious about sending her son away from Seoul to an unfamiliar place.
…
“PO SOJU QD(* oral administration, soju, once daily)! Drink it, you bastard!!!! The liver regenerates!”
…
“There are only three hours left! We’re screwed! We’re all going to repeat the year! Aaaagh!”
“Hyeonjae, you’d be the only one repeating.”
“Shut up, Jo Su-yeon!”
…
“Now that I am permitted to practice medicine, I solemnly swear to dedicate my life to the service of humanity....”
On graduation day.
My chest had swelled with emotion, but honestly, the word “service” was too grand to feel real.
I think relief was all I really felt.
…
“Hyeonjae, you got a B too? Hey, that’s fine, that’s fine. At least it wasn’t a C. Let’s just stay in the middle—right in the middle.”
“Right, just staying ordinary and in the middle is the best.”
Unremarkable grades.
An unremarkable reputation.
Not a genius, but not a failure either.
…
“No, Mom, it’s not like Emergency Medicine is full of people dying left and right like the media makes it sound, okay? It may not be a popular specialty, but it’s not a complete zero either. And of course, once I get my specialist license and go work as a department chief at a local general hospital, I’ll make a lot of money too....”
The reason I chose my specialty.
A grand sense of mission?
A spirit of sacrifice?
In truth, it was the path I chose because my grades were middling, and because I was torn between a vague longing to do something people thought was cool and the compromise of earning a decent living and living a decent life.
…
“Aren’t you not even going to make it four years? I really can’t do this. Aren’t the ones who run away in their first year the real winners?”
“Hyeonjae, you can’t run away. You dragged me down into EM and now...”
…
A strange connection that had come out of nowhere one day.
The blue window that had started appearing in front of my eyes by sheer accident.
…
“It’s ciguatera poisoning!”
“This patient isn’t a cold! I’m going to get one more V4R lead!”
“Scalpel.”
“We hereby issue a reprimand and a one-month pay cut to Resident Han Hyeonjae, the party subject to discipline. This matter is concluded by the committee’s own decision and will not be referred to a formal disciplinary committee.”
When had that disciplinary notice started to feel like a medal?
…
“In my opinion... it looks like an aortic dissection that has invaded the RCA.”
“I need to check whether it’s an ovarian teratoma. It looks like anti-NMDA receptor encephalitis.”
Cheat-level skills.
Other people’s knowledge and experience piled up in my mind and at my fingertips.
‘Genius’ ‘Double board’ ‘Monster’
I stopped in the middle of the crosswalk.
The traffic light blinked.
Thud.
Professor Hwang Jun’s question echoed in my ears.
‘What are you going to do once you get your specialist license? What kind of doctor do you want to be?’
I wanted to live comfortably.
And at the same time, I wanted to secure a certain kind of honor too.
I wanted to be recognized.
But now.
I don’t know.
The ghosts are holding me back.
Maybe I’ve come to love the ER far more than I thought I would.
Or maybe I’ve just been gaslit by those ghosts and had a slave mentality drilled into my bones.
“What kind of doctor do I want to become?”
I looked up at the night sky.
“Well... for now.”
I tossed the empty coffee cup into the trash can.
Clink.
“I should at least be a doctor who isn’t late for work tomorrow.”