Chapter 183: Blood Type (4)

“She refused?”

“Yes…” Dahoon nodded while wiping his sweat.

The reading room of the Radiology Department was located in the main building, and her outpatient clinic was at the cancer center, making it nearly a kilometer away one way. Even if he had sprinted as fast as possible to reach there within fifteen minutes, being turned away meant something unusual must have occurred.

That’s strange.

“Based on my understanding, Professor Kim Jinsil usually accommodates clinical requests.”

Puzzled, Baruda checked the data again, but there was no need for further investigation. It was highly unlikely that someone’s reputation could dramatically change within just a few weeks. If this were the case, some other circumstances might be influencing the situation, such as illness or personal emergencies.

It could be due to illness or family issues.

“Have you met Professor Kim Jin-sil?”

“Ah… No, only Doctor Lee Hye-young…”

“Oh, Hye-young again?”

That explained it. Dr. Lee graduated from a regional university but was at the top of her class, naturally. Before Suhyuk joined Taehwa Medical Center, there were no rivals for this prestigious hospital.

To secure an internship amidst fierce competition, one had to either graduate from their home university, rank within the top ten from Seoul medical schools, or achieve first or second place from regional universities.

“You mentioned she was an ace during her intern days, right?”

‘She was exceptional. Truly outstanding.’

“And now look how things have turned out.”

‘Something… feels like his career ended when he entered the Radiology Department.’

It had been a while since Suhyuk thought about his intern colleague, and he shook his head. He picked up his phone but slowly put it down again.

“Hey, Soohyuk!”

As soon as Taejin Jo entered the clinic, he rushed towards Suhyuk like a UFC fighter. If this was indeed a tackle, Suhyuk would have lost the use of both legs due to the force behind it.

“Oh, Professor.”

Taejin Jo’s physique was enormous, as Suhyuk had noted multiple times before. When he effortlessly lifted Suhyuk, Suhyuk felt like a flag flapping in the wind. It was utterly absurd.

Are we long-lost family members reuniting or something?

“Yes, I saw him several times last month.”

‘Is that why…my blood type pleases you?’

“I believe so. Other professors also act like this…”

Baruda’s words were true, although none of them acted as blatantly as Taejin Jo, Shin Hyun-tae, or Lee Hyunjong.

“You should have known better and done a cursory review. Ha ha ha.”

“Ughhh.”

“Does it hurt? Sorry about that. It’s just because I’m too happy, haha. Last month was tough for me. Ah, thanks to that bastard Dr. Hwang.”

“Oh… You had to cover his shift at the end of the month?”

“Yeah. He usually makes a mess, but when he decided to do everything at the last minute… Wow…I couldn’t leave work due to anxiety.”

Everyone knew how challenging it was to become an internal medicine specialist. Although some might question their expertise after seeing doctors at local clinics prescribing basic medications, these specialists could snatch several lives back from the brink of death if equipped with proper facilities. This is why South Korea’s healthcare system excelled during large-scale disasters, such as emerging infectious diseases, compared to other countries. Despite having more specialists than most nations, the quality of medical professionals here remained exceptionally high.

To become a specialist, one had to undergo three to four years of training and pass rigorous exams.

Among these specialties, Internal Medicine was known for having one of the most challenging fellowship exams.

I must have been out of my mind when I decided to study.

“It’s quite typical. After all, you’re not planning to become a Hematology-Oncology fellow.”

In other words, if Sungyub didn’t focus solely on studying, he would likely fail the exam. It would be disheartening to complete his training only to fall short of becoming a specialist. Consequently, during their third year—the time they became eligible to take the exam—residents typically stopped working around November and dedicated themselves to studying full-time. Some residents knew how crucial this period was, while others underestimated its importance. Last year, it had been Kim Jinyoung who fell into the latter category, and now it seemed Hwang Sunwoo followed suit.

“Phew, anyway, I’m relieved that you’re here.” Taejin Jo shook his head, still shaken by last month’s events.

After shaking Suhyuk’s shoulders, pinching his cheeks, and giving him multiple high fives, Taejin finally collapsed into a chair.

“Ah, it’s your first year… An Dae-hoon, right?”

“Yes, Professor!”

“Right, you’re the primary physician here? Please take good care of things. If there is anything you don’t know, ask Soohyuk. And if that doesn’t work… No, it should always work with Soohyuk. Just ask him.”

“Yes, Professor!”

Taejin Jo then noticed Dahoon and uttered some encouraging words, though it was unclear whether they were for Dahoon or merely another opportunity to praise Suhyuk. With a big nod, he turned towards the door.

“I’ll get started now.”

At this signal, the staff member who had been working alongside Taejin for several years opened the outpatient clinic doors. Although it wasn’t officially time yet, both the staff and patients were accustomed to Taejin Jo’s approach.

Taejin Jo was an exceptionally talented professor from the Hematology-Oncology Department of a university hospital. Regardless of what happened, he believed there was no need to keep cancer patients waiting any longer than necessary once preparations were complete.

“Oh dear, Mr. Kim Yongsu.”

“Yes, Professor. How have you been?”

“That’s what I should be asking you. How have you been doing?”

“Ahh, quite well thanks to you. Eating well too. Ha ha.”

“I told you before, didn’t I? You would live long enough to see your son and even granddaughter’s wedding.”

By nature, Taejin Jo was kind and approachable.

“Ha ha. So how is it looking now?”

“Very good. No signs of recurrence, everything looks clean.”

“Oh dear. That’s such a relief. Phew, hearing this makes me feel better.”

“Now… If you come just one more time, I won’t need to see you again.”

“That’s disappointing.”

“You’re graduating, my dear! Next time you visit, let’s take a picture together as a commemoration of your full recovery.”

The only downside was dealing with the first-year resident chatting incessantly nearby. Other professors might have been less friendly or more formal, directly discussing their treatment plans, but Taejin Jo solely focused on his patients. Consequently, conversations often had to wait until after the patient left, leading to inevitable delays in the outpatient clinic whenever the first-year resident was present.

“Schedule a CT scan for six months from now and arrange a blood test too.”

“Ah, yes.”

Currently, Suhyuk’s presence was fortunate. He communicated everything Taejin didn’t mention to Dahoon. Thanks to this, not only did the outpatient clinic proceed without delay, but it actually moved faster than usual.

Moreover, since most patients’ conditions had improved significantly, Taejin Jo felt quite pleased.

“Soohyuk’s arrival even affected cancers. They all seem subdued now. Huh? There isn’t a single recurrence case today. That’s truly great.” With a contented chuckle, he called for the next patient.

“[Suhyuk, it’s that patient.]”

At that moment, Baruda spoke with a serious tone. Suhyuk nodded, as he also distinctly remembered the name.

“Ah.”

It seemed Taejin Jo recognized the name similarly.

It was inevitable. The doctors suspected a recurrence of his cancer or possibly a secondary tumor. Most likely, they felt something wasn’t right, as many physicians often do.

“Sir…”

The patient’s grim expression suggested he shared similar suspicions. He had completed five years of colorectal cancer treatment and graduated from Taejin Jo’s care until recently. However, during a routine local health check-up, abnormalities were detected, leading him to get a CT scan on this visit. A positive outcome would have been surprising under these circumstances.

“Sigh…” Taejin Jo briefly reviewed the CT scan again before exhaling deeply.

There was a well-defined mass showing enhancement in the arterial phase but washing out in the delayed phase.

This is liver cancer, isn’t it…?

Anyone would diagnose it as hepatocellular carcinoma (HCC). Even the Radiology Department had read it that way, although this was their first time signing off on such a case. Still, Taehwa Medical Center maintained high standards, so there was no reason to doubt their assessment.

“M…Mr. Sung.”

“Professor…what should I do?”

“Well…”

Taejin couldn’t bring himself to face his patient with a smile. The man was already on the verge of tears; how could Taejin muster any cheerfulness?

As he hesitated momentarily, someone tapped him on the shoulder.

It couldn’t be a first-year resident. While Taejin Jo was known for being approachable, surely not by a mere first-year trainee. In most hospitals, residents in their inaugural year were often treated more like novices than professionals, and Taehwa Medical Center was no exception.

Most first-year residents were still not fully human yet. Taehwa was no different.

“Soohyuk?”

“Yes, Professor.”

“Why…? The patient has arrived.”

“Just a moment… I have something to say regarding this patient.”

“Ah…”

If it wasn’t Suhyuk, Taejin would have asked him to leave the clinic immediately. Since his residency days, Taejin had been known for being particularly compassionate towards patients, and that trait only intensified over time. He believed nobody should hinder the treatment process between doctor and patient as it was sacred.

Is he crazy?

The staff member’s face instantly stiffened due to Taejin’s past reputation. During his university years, Taejin used to be part of the bodybuilding club, so when he got angry, it could be quite terrifying.

Taejin Jo was known for his dedication to patients since his residency days. Additionally, having been part of the bodybuilding team during his school years, he could be quite intimidating when angered.

“Patient, can you please wait here for a moment? I’ll discuss something briefly and get back to you.”

“Huh?”

“I appreciate your cooperation. So-young, thank you.”

“Um… Sure.”

However, Taejin couldn’t help but smile fondly whenever dealing with Suhyuk.

‘Would our dear Suhyuk interrupt my consultation without a valid reason?’

After all, it’s thanks to Suhyuk that they even had this time. Despite constant complaints about delays in the outpatient clinic, today’s patient arrived ten minutes early - an unprecedented occurrence.

Tak.

As soon as the door closed, Taejin Jo turned completely towards Suhyuk. He wore his usual benevolent smile, which was warm enough to make even colleagues he had known for years and treated like friends feel jealous. Even close acquaintances would have been envious of this expression.

“Our dear Suhyuk.”

“Yes, Professor.”

“The patient…what is strange about him?”

“You suspect liver cancer now? Rather than metastasis?”

“Hmm? Yes, indeed… It looks quite different from what we’d expect if it originated from colorectal cancer.”

Moreover, Taejin Jo took pride in his treatment skills.

Since Jinwoo had previously declared him cured, it was unlikely that his cancer would recur and metastasize so quickly.

“Yes, I thought so too. Considering its location, it seems more like liver cancer…specifically hepatocellular carcinoma.”

“The location?”

“Yes. It’s not closely connected to the kidney, right? On the T1-weighted MRI image, there appears to be excessive blackness.”

“T1-weighted image? You mean excess fat tissue?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm.” Taejin unconsciously rubbed his chin.

Despite having shaved earlier before seeing patients at the outpatient clinic as a courtesy, he already felt stubble growing back.

Excess fat tissue and loosely connected to the kidney…

He felt like he’d heard something similar somewhere.

It couldn’t be from a textbook; Suhyuk wouldn’t have missed such a common condition.

‘Did I see it in a case report or at a conference?’

In any case, he felt like he had encountered it before but couldn’t pinpoint where exactly. It was embarrassing to be unable to answer during a conversation with a resident, but fortunately, this didn’t apply to Suhyuk.

‘He’s truly a rare genius!’

Suhyuk had already earned recognition as the most exceptional talent since Taehwa University’s inception, even acknowledged by Lee Hyunjong himself.

“What is it again?” When unsure, Suhyuk simply asked. Most professors, especially intelligent ones actively involved in academic conferences like Taejin Jo, might feel flustered in such situations, but not Suhyuk.

“Intrahepatic adrenocortical adenoma (IAA).”

“Aha.”

As expected of Taejin Jo, he immediately recalled the disease’s name. If this diagnosis was correct, there was no need for despair. They only needed to monitor her condition closely. It meant that a tissue biopsy would suffice.

“So, perform a tissue biopsy… Ah, you requested cooperation? Hmm? But it hasn’t been done yet?”

“They said today might be difficult…”

“Hey, what kind of excuse is that? The patient must be extremely anxious right now. We need to expedite this process. Who is responsible for contacting them today?”

“It… Lee Hye-young…”

“Hye-young again? Give me your phone.”