Chapter 173: You Are Indeed the Medical Director (1)

Slap!

Suhyuk wasn’t the only one who clapped upon hearing ‘Salmonella Paratyphi A.’ Shin Hyun-tae, standing behind Suhyuk with a gentle smile and nodding, also applauded.

“Huh?”

“Hey, Suhyuk. It’s me.”

Manager Shin Hyun-tae waved his hand towards Suhyuk, who stared at him in surprise. This reaction from a fellow was unprecedented, perhaps reserved for someone considered like a son. Despite Shin Hyun-tae’s renowned character, he wouldn’t typically behave this way towards all his disciples.

‘Seems I stumbled upon something unexpected.’ Suhyuk couldn’t help but feel frustrated.

His teeth automatically ground together. Even Shin Hyun-tae couldn’t guarantee him a position when applying for fellow support. Nonetheless, he was confident in his abilities. He had shown such enthusiasm that he wrote a research paper while serving as a surgeon in the army. Additionally, during his residency, he excelled among his peers. Honestly, if any of his contemporaries were to become professors, he firmly believed it should be him.

However, within just three years away from the hospital, an unknown individual had managed to win over the hearts of the professors.

“Patient, as you’ve heard… There’s a possibility you got infected during the foodborne pathogen cultivation experiment. Typhoid fever is typically unresponsive to common antipyretics.”

“Oh…” Shin Hyun-tae, with a complex expression, focused solely on the patient without acknowledging the fellow’s presence. Known for his compassionate smile and deep voice, Shin Hyun-tae instantly made the patient feel better even before any treatment began. The patient recalled seeing him on the popular TV show ‘Dr. Friends’.

‘All the doctors featured there are renowned.’

As the patient nodded thoughtfully, Shin Hyun-tae continued:

“The lack of response to cephalosporin-based antibiotics now makes sense based on our findings. We should prioritize this approach in your treatment.”

“Oh…thank you very much.”

“However, we haven’t confirmed it yet, so several more tests may be needed.”

“Yes, yes.”

“Firstly, Doctor Lee Soo-hyuk saw Dr. Baek… and I will assign another primary physician to you. As you can see, he is one of our esteemed talents in Internal Medicine. Although he looks young, his skills surpass most professors, so you can trust him.”

If these words came from Suhyuk himself, they would have sounded arrogant. There’s nothing worse than someone boasting about their own fame with phrases like ‘I am famous’. However, hearing this from Shin Hyun-tae felt different. As a patient, I could feel my admiration for Suhyuk gradually increasing.

“Ah, yes. Thank you.”

“Well, moving on.” After reassuring the patient with a brief explanation, Shin Hyun-tae turned to Suhyuk again.

[Here we go again, buddy.]

What expression should I use for this face? Overjoyed? Thrilled? There wasn’t quite the right phrase, but it was evident that he had high expectations. This wasn’t just their first encounter; it had happened multiple times before.

“Soohyuk, why did you re-examine the patient? What were you suspecting?”

If any other resident had done this, Hyun-tae would have simply dismissed it as luck. They might have had some reasoning behind it, but it wouldn’t be convincing enough for him to bother asking. However, since it was Suhyuk, Hyun-tae felt compelled to hear his perspective. Even if unsure, it was worth listening to what Suhyuk had to say, possibly valuable insights even for fellows.

In other words, there was no need to ask such questions. However, it was Suhyuk’s case. I had to listen to what he had to say. Even though I wasn’t sure, it might be worth hearing for the fellow as well.

“Ah… Shall I start with something unusual from the patient examination results?”

“Yes, go ahead.”

On the other hand, the fellow didn’t like this situation at all. It seemed like blatant favoritism.

Isn’t he only in his second year?

Until recently, Internal Medicine fellowship programs were four years long, not three. Seeing a chief resident, who should’ve barely completed three years, acting so confidently was quite irritating.

Wait, what? A second-year resident presenting on-the-spot in front of both patients and fellows?

Sigh.

I involuntarily let out a sigh but couldn’t audibly express it in that moment. As my frown deepened due to dissatisfaction, Suhyuk continued speaking with an utterly relaxed demeanor.

“Firstly, there was a fever lasting over a week and pancytopenia. Other than that, at least upon admission, nothing significant except slightly elevated liver enzymes?”

“Yes, correct. If I had to assess… hmm.” Shin Hyun-tae paused while glancing at the patient. There was no need to unnecessarily alarm her, but he also didn’t want to withhold information completely. He found a middle ground:

“I suspect Taejin’s division will consider two potential conditions.”

Taejin Jo primarily focused on blood cancers within hematologic oncology, which was well-known among internal medicine specialists, making this conversation flow naturally.

“Yes, additionally, the CT scan showed enlarged lymph nodes… I also considered those two possibilities initially.”

“What made you change your mind?”

“It’s due to signs of hypovolemia. The pancytopenia was also somewhat unclear.”

“Hypovolemic symptoms?”

The ambiguity of pancytopenia could be understood by anyone who looked at the numbers once. This was indeed one reason why Shin Hyun-tae, a professor from the infectious diseases department, took interest in this patient. Although, Suhyuk observing her was an even bigger factor.

In any case, discussing the latter point held little significance now.

However, “hypovolemic symptoms” sounded unfamiliar.

“Yes. Today, the patient’s vital signs showed blood pressure dropping to 92/54. She also complained of feeling dizzy.”

According to the nursing records, it noted that she felt lightheaded when getting out of bed. It appeared to be orthostatic hypotension caused by low blood pressure. It could have worsened an existing condition or something new altogether.

The important point was that this blood pressure reading was unusual for this patient.

“Hmm…”

However, it didn’t seem particularly noteworthy to Shin Hyun-tae. Blood pressure often drops when someone has a fever or is experiencing pain, regardless of whether it’s due to infection or malignancy.

“He just gave her a cursory look.”

Seeing Shin Hyun-tae’s lack of reaction confirmed Baruda’s suspicion. It made sense given how few doctors could impress him, and chances were he was right about the superficial examination. After all, she wasn’t his patient.

“Nevertheless, her heart rate is lower now compared to when she was first admitted. Considering no other underlying conditions… In other words, there are no factors affecting her heart rate, so we’re dealing with relative bradycardia.”

“Ah… Relative bradycardia! Yes, you caught that?”

There was a time when this was considered basic knowledge. However, with the introduction of X-rays as a standard, followed by ultrasound, CT scans, MRI, and even PET diagnostic tools, interest in such fundamental observations inevitably waned. Even Shin Hyun-tae himself tended to overlook vital signs unless they posed a significant risk.

Yet amidst all these advancements, someone managed to pick up on this subtle detail. Suhyuk truly impressed him more each time he interacted with him.

“Yes. Among the causes of relative bradycardia…there are overseas infectious diseases such as typhoid fever, malaria, Q fever, dengue fever, and yellow fever, right? However, I noticed that only travel history and occupation were asked without delving into the specifics of their work. That’s why I came here. Additionally, on the CT scan, there was observed dilation of the ileocecal valve.”

“Isn’t that non-specific?”

“But it can be a cause of enteritis. For instance, typhoid fever can lead to inflammation of the intestines and increase liver enzymes… Considering these factors, I thought this might be more relevant than Professor Taejin Jo’s specialty.”

“And fortunately, you were correct, weren’t you?”

“Yes, Professor.”

“Remarkable.”

Shaking his head incredulously, Shin Hyun-tae eventually broke out into laughter.

Can I really call him my disciple…?

Hyun-tae had indeed taught Sungyuk quite a lot. Yet despite all that teaching, Sungyuk’s performance far surpassed his mentor’s expectations. Hyun-tae felt embarrassed to claim Sungyuk as his disciple given these circumstances. This internal conflict was evident on his face, but even then, it paled in comparison to the fellow standing behind them.

I see now… It wasn’t just luck.

The presentation had been brief—probably no more than five minutes in total—but its impact would likely linger for days. It felt like listening to insights from a renowned expert rather than a mere resident.

“Well…I need to talk with you separately later.”

Shin Hyun-tae didn’t notice the strange expression on his fellow’s face as he nodded and opened his mouth. His gaze was entirely focused on Suhyuk’s face.

“No matter how I look at it, there is no one else to be Medical Director except you.”

“Huh? The Medical Director?”

“Yes, indeed. The person with the best grades and reputation becomes the Medical Director. Is there anyone better than you?”

“That…”

It would be an honor. As Shin Hyun-tae mentioned, typically, the most outstanding individual for their year became the Medical Director. Moreover, a disproportionately high number of professors throughout history had served as Medical Directors. This was because frequent interactions with professors led to more opportunities to contribute research papers, showcasing one’s abilities effectively.

However, Suhyuk found it difficult to feel excited.

[Oh, isn’t this cruel punishment for someone who is anti-social like Suhyuk?]

‘Ah, I am not anti-social.’

[How many colleagues have you kept in touch with?]

‘Zero… Oh wait, Ji-sang?’]

[Except for the last week.]

‘Zero.’

It felt as if I was stationed alone on a remote island or had been sent to the military by myself. Yet, becoming the Medical Director meant overseeing almost everything within Internal Medicine, including on-call meetings?

Instead of being honored, it felt more like a punishment than a reward.

“Well, I trust that you will do well somehow. Ha ha. I believe in you, Soohyuk.”

Considering his tone and expression, how could Suhyuk refuse him? Although Dr. Chae wouldn’t withhold the professor position if Suhyuk declined the role of Medical Director, saying ‘no’ outright didn’t seem appropriate here.

“Then shall we go?”

Moreover, he quickly left with his fellow as if there was some urgent matter to attend to.

Suhyuk remained behind with only Ji-sang and sighed heavily.

“The Medical Director… position?”

[Huh, you’re not talking to yourself now, right? Is this really that mentally taxing for you?]

“I don’t even have their phone numbers, so how can I be the Medical Director… No way… I cannot do it, Baruda…”

[Ah, Suhyuk. People think you’ve gone mad! Wait, are you actually crazy? Is that what’s happening here? It’s not possible.]

It seemed like Suhyuk was genuinely shocked.

After exactly 421 days and 11 hours, Baruda witnessed Suhyuk talking to himself again.

[Beeep, Beeep, Beeep.]

In his agitation, he even triggered the alarm sound that he hated the most, but it was futile.

“Ugh, so noisy.”

It had the opposite effect.

“Hey, Soohyuk.”

Unexpectedly, Ji-sang calmed Suhyuk down. According to Baruda’s evaluation, Ji-sang was considered more of a deadweight or surplus member, yet this moment showed how valuable he could be.

“Huh?”

“Don’t worry about it. We’re friends from medical school after all. Since we’re discussing this, why don’t we create a position for you?”

“What?”

“Let’s do it. I’ve always been good with administrative tasks anyway.”