Chapter 182: Blood Type (3)

A hospital operates smoothly only when everyone inside works like gears turning together at their best. Today was no different.

“Doctor, Patient No. 4 requested discharge papers and diagnosis.”

“Where will they submit it?”

“I heard it’s for an insurance company.”

“Yes, understood.”

Suhyuk rarely made mistakes with prescriptions due to his perfectionism, but unforeseen tasks popped up daily. This was especially true in departments handling high admissions and discharges. One might wonder why there were many admissions and discharges in the Hematology-Oncology department dealing with cancer patients. However, chronic illness did not necessarily require continuous hospitalization.

Many patients were repeatedly admitted and discharged due to chemotherapy protocols.

“This paperwork is tedious.”

‘Well, what can you do? It needs to be done.’

[Wouldn’t it stop if you weren’t assigned as their primary physician?]

‘Yes, but lately, even third-year residents sometimes act as primary physicians… In the end, I need to become a specialist for complete freedom.’

[Based on recent trends, that might not necessarily be true.]

‘Hmm.’

Suhyuk immediately understood where Baruda’s comment originated from. It was likely based on discussions during a recent hospital meeting.

[Even emergency room shifts are now being taken by specialists, right?]

‘It’s because of the law limiting work hours to 88 per week.’

[But Suhyuk works over 120 hours a week.]

‘The law will be enforced from next year. What then?’

[Hrmm… The law.]

Baruda was becoming proficient not only in medical matters but also in various societal issues. However, he remained unfamiliar with laws and regulations. Fortunately, Baruda showed little interest in them; otherwise, Suhyuk would have had to extensively study legal matters just to educate him on these topics.

“It’s fine.”

“Yes, Doctor. Thank you.”

“Are we done now?”

“Uh… Yes, except there might be patients nearing discharge whom I need to inform about. If any such cases arise, I’ll give you a call.”

“Understood.”

After quickly finishing his paperwork, Suhyuk stood up.

Tap.

He leaned on his staff.

“Oh, Doctor.”

Someone assisted him. Some people might get angry at such help, but Suhyuk was not one of them. He always believed that kindness should be appreciated.

“Huh? Dahoon?”

“Yes, Doctor. Here you go. Coffee.”

“Ah, thanks.”

Suhyuk leaned against the station and took a sip of the iced Americano handed to him by Dahoon.

[Yes, this is it.]

While Suhyuk enjoyed coffee, Baruda absolutely loved it.

[Ahh.] Why did Baruda always make such exaggerated sounds whenever he drank coffee?

However, Suhyuk couldn’t scold him recklessly, just like now:

‘Stop it, you damn parasite. Are you drunk?’

[Drunk? How can you compare trash like alcohol with coffee? Coffee is the drink of God as it temporarily enhances the brain function of the deficient Suhyuk. It allows me… even briefly, to feel how I felt when I was in my cradle.]

‘I am confused if that’s praise or insult. So, drinking coffee makes my brain similar to a supercomputer?’

[Stop your nonsense, Suhyuk.]

Nonsense. Did this bastard just call me nonsensical?

Suhyuk wanted to punish Baruda for his insolence, considering he was essentially a parasite living inside Suhyuk’s head.

“Uh, Doctor. Did you drink something too cold? Do you have a headache?”

He slapped the area where Baruda resided, but it only caused pain in his hand and head.

[What are you doing?]

‘You provoked me.’

[I’m not alone here. I compared your brain with a supercomputer.]

‘Hmph…’

[Anyway, continue drinking coffee quickly. Don’t delay.]

‘Damn pest.’

Engaging with Baruda for too long proved detrimental each time. Shaking his head, Suhyuk turned towards Dahoon, who had just handed him the coffee.

“Ah, the patient’s condition improved slightly yesterday. The fetus also decreased.”

“Yes. I requested cooperation for today’s ultrasound follow-up.”

“Oh, okay. Good job. By the way, what is happening here? Blood Type ward?”

“The moon has changed. Starting from today, it is my turn for Blood Type.”

“Ah… Really? Then should we transfer yesterday’s patient?”

“Nope. They will be discharged soon, so I am planning to handle their discharge myself. Their medical history is complicated, and transferring them would cause difficulties.”

“Well, even if it is challenging, thinking about the patient comes first.”

Suhyuk recalled the patient he saw during rounds earlier. Indeed, the patient’s condition had improved significantly with the reduction of the fetus.

As Dahoon mentioned earlier, she would be discharged soon. They already knew it was Bird-Kiari Syndrome and discovered its cause.

“Who is on duty this time?”

“Professor Taejin Jo.”

“Oh… You have outpatient clinic later today?”

“Yes.”

“Have you done it before? Assisting at the outpatient clinic?”

“No, Professor Taejin Jo will be my first experience.”

“There’s no need to worry too much. He is meticulous, but…”

One characteristic of professors from the Hematology-Oncology Department was their lack of trust in first-year residents. Although Taejin Jo appeared approachable, Suhyuk was the only one among his peers whom he fully entrusted with assisting at the outpatient clinic.

When other first-year residents entered the station, they invariably required backup like Suhyuk had requested earlier. Suhyuk thought it unnecessary to mention this and stood up from his seat.

“I need to head down there. I prefer arriving about fifteen minutes early to review the charts once more. Especially to check if any new radiology reports have come out.”

“Oh… Yes, Doctor.”

“Don’t worry; since I’m joining you today, I’ll handle everything. You can take a break.”

“Yes, thank you, Doctor. It’s your off-time, but…”

“There’s no ‘off-time’ for residents. Even my research is on hold due to missing data - nothing else to do right now.”

“Phew, really appreciate it.” Dahoon bowed sincerely once again.

Despite his words, it was rare for someone senior to him to offer such support as Dahoon experienced today. It might be because he was one of Dahoon’s favorite juniors, but there was another reason behind this gesture.

“Oh, by the way, Dahoon.”

“Yes, Doctor Lee.”

“How are you getting along with your colleagues?” As they walked towards the outpatient clinic, Suhyuk started asking various questions.

Dahoon had no choice but to answer sincerely since Suhyuk posed these queries.

This is my first time seeing Dr. Lee… talking about something other than patients.

It felt slightly odd, but what could he do? After all, Suhyuk was someone Dahoon deeply admired. If asked, Dahoon would have even shared the size of his underwear or possibly taken them off immediately.

To Dahoon, Suhyuk was such a figure.

“Ah, yes. I’m doing well. Since you were my supervisor during my internship days…”

“That’s right. You’re correct. Can I ask a favor?”

“Huh? A favor? Yes, anything as long as I can help…”

Dahoon truly meant he would do anything.

Even if it involved plucking out one hair… No, no. Anything except that…

Suhyuk watched as Dahoon briefly touched his head before hastily withdrawing his hand.

“It’s nothing serious. Just that I’ve become the Director of Medicine now.”

“Oh! Congratulations! I always knew you would achieve this!”

“Hey, hey. Why so loud? Patients will hear us. If someone overheard, they might think I became a professor.”

“Professor, aren’t you letting go too much?”

“Did this guy drink alcohol instead of coffee? Why is your voice like that?”

“I’m sorry. I got too excited.”

Looking at An Dae-hoon, Baruda said he was indeed a good subordinate. However, Suhyuk informed him that the era of subordinates had long passed, but Baruda remained stubborn.

“Isn’t Shin Hyun-tae also Lee Hyunjong’s subordinate? Make such relationships. How great would it be? You can order them around.” If I were Lee Hyunjong and An Dae-hoon was Shin Hyun-tae. Although they both seemed slightly weaker compared to their original counterparts, the thought felt satisfying.

‘Okay, then this guy will be my subordinate.’

[I told you to make him a subordinate, not call him ‘this guy’.]

‘Shut up.’

Suhyuk continued speaking as if he were Lee Hyunjong. Baruda was displeased with Suhyuk’s behavior, but what could he do? After all, it was Suhyuk who controlled this body now.

“In any case, I’m becoming the Director of Medicine, and to be honest, I don’t know much about your fellow trainees…the first-year residents. It still bothers me that some ran away during their studies.”

“I’ll bring back those bastards for you.”

“No, that’s not necessary. What does ‘bring them back’ mean? Are we chasing fugitives?”

“If there is a need for chasing fugitives, please let me handle it. I will bring them back.”

“Oh…”

Fugitive slaves - that’s what ‘chasing fugitives’ meant in hospital jargon, referring to retrieving runaway residents. Typically, the Director of Medicine would take charge of such matters, though each person had their own approach.

Some residents literally captured and brought back the runaway resident while others tried to persuade them. Suhyuk disliked both approaches, so Dahoon’s suggestion was welcome.

“Good, that sounds fine. Anyway, please keep an eye on the residents. If I tell you something, pass it onto everyone.”

“Yes, Doctor. Thank you for entrusting this to me.”

“Mm, sure.” Suhyuk entered the outpatient clinic with Dahoon, who continuously expressed gratitude even when given tasks.

As expected in the Hematology-Oncology Department, many patients wore beanies. Despite improvements in chemotherapy protocols and new targeted therapies, hair loss remained an unavoidable side effect.

‘Still, the number of patients experiencing nausea… has significantly decreased.’

Despite media portrayals often using vomiting as a cliché for cancer treatment, it had been some time since this issue was largely overcome at clinics like these. Of course, the extent varied depending on the type of cancer and the treatment protocol.

“The first five patients today are from the hospice ward, right? Please treat them with utmost kindness.” Suhyuk glanced around at the patients and gently tapped Dahoon’s shoulder.

Understanding the significance of hospice care, Dahoon nodded resolutely.

“Yes, sir.”

He knew how much Taejin Jo cared about hospice patients. Cancer can be either curable or incurable based on its stage. For cases deemed curable, both doctors and patients must fully commit to treatment. However, when faced with incurable stages, priorities need to shift.

If it was the latter case, both the doctor and patient needed to prioritize their actions. Taejin Jo usually opted for reducing pain and discomfort for patients because he believed they deserved to spend their final moments with dignity as human beings.

“Well then, let’s go inside and check the charts.”

“Yes, sir.”

Suhyuk exchanged glances with familiar faces before entering the clinic. He then pulled up the records of today’s outpatient appointments once again.

“We saw everyone yesterday, so only focus on those without imaging results.”

“Oh, understood.”

“I’ve marked them. Hmm, this person. Huh? Why is there no cooperation note?”

“For a biopsy? Yes, it says here that it couldn’t be done.”

“That’s strange. Since you have time now, could you please go inquire about it?”

“Ah, yes. I’ll do that right away.”