Chapter 184: Blood Type (5)

“Radiology Department… Second-year resident Lee Hye-young speaking.”

Soon, a monotone voice came through the speakerphone. Perhaps due to An Dae-hoon’s call, her tone seemed colder than usual.

“Oh, Dr. Lee Hye-young? Are you currently handling abdominal consultations?”

“Huh? Yes, but why do you ask? Who is this?” However, as she naturally spoke informally, she became slightly cautious.

Regardless of one’s assertiveness, being observant was crucial for survival as a resident in a hospital setting.

“This is Professor Taejin Jo from the Hematology-Oncology Department.”

“Ah, yes, Professor. I am indeed responsible for the consultations.”

“There’s a patient among the outpatients who required a liver biopsy consultation. Have you had a chance to review it yet? The consultation date seems to be…from yesterday.”

Taejin Jo smiled at Soohyuk’s foresight and continued speaking. He pondered how much help Suhyuk could provide if he joined the Hematology-Oncology Department. Regardless of whether it was research or clinical work, numerous patients could be saved with his assistance.

“Oh…” Lee Hye-young’s eyes darted around as she tried to recall.

Liver biopsies were not common requests for cooperation, with only several occurring each day. Even though Taehwa Medical Center had a reputation for being a hub of liver transplant surgeries, such cases weren’t easily forgotten.

‘I wanted to give him a hard time, but…’

Could she still pull it off? It didn’t seem likely. If dealing with a resident might have been manageable, confronting a professor wasn’t advisable due to their direct access to higher-ups. She knew there was a risk they would catch on that she intentionally obstructed matters out of annoyance.

Moreover, she had the power to directly call higher-ups. If that happened, it would be clear that Suhyuk was obstructing things due to annoyance.

“I just confirmed.”

Thus, he decided to accept the request and pretend like he never rejected it earlier.

“Uh, damn.” An Dae-hoon, who had been sitting across from him, exploded with anger at being overruled again.

“Hush, quiet down,” Soohyuk interrupted.

Regardless of what anyone said, the professor was still on the phone. It wouldn’t look good if their chatter interfered.

“Yes, is that possible? I’d like them admitted today for immediate testing, aiming to discharge tomorrow.”

“I’ll check and get back to you, Professor Shin.”

“Great. Please let me know as soon as possible; the patient is waiting.”

“Certainly.”

Lee Hye-young let out a sigh or perhaps it was her response before ending the call and standing up. She then knocked on the door of the abdominal imaging reading room located slightly deeper inside the resident’s reading room.

“Come i-in.”

The voice sounded from behind the second door. It was Professor Kim Jinsil. Despite being on-call yesterday, she continued working today without rest. She had mentioned recently that she was working on a liver cancer-related research paper, which seemed to be quite challenging for her. Her usually vibrant voice now sounded tired and subdued.

“P-professor.”

“Yes?”

“The Hematology-Oncology Department requested…no, they requested cooperation yesterday.”

“Yesterday? What time? I don’t recall seeing it.”

“Yes, it came in during the night. They need a liver biopsy and asked to contact them urgently since it’s an outpatient case.”

“A liver biopsy? Give me the registration number, please.”

“Yes, here it is.”

“Hmm…”

Professor Kim Jinsil first checked the patient’s chart and then pulled up the scan images. Since the latest notes from today’s outpatient clinic hadn’t been entered yet, I couldn’t be sure what she suspected. However, it was clear that the patient had previously battled colorectal cancer.

“Hmm…hmm?” Professor Kim Jinsil raised an eyebrow as she scrolled through the records.

Both Lee Hye-young and the new professor identified the mass as hepatocellular carcinoma (HCC), located precisely where the previous tumor had been.

“Oh, so this is what they’re asking for?”

“Yes, exactly.”

I found it intriguing to ponder who might have caught this issue. Based on Lee Hye-young’s reaction, it seemed she had no idea why a tissue examination was requested.

It makes sense that she wouldn’t.

Indeed, it wasn’t surprising.

It was intriguing that someone from Internal Medicine, not typically known for their expertise in imaging, had caught this first. This seemed like a matter of professional pride to her. So, Dr. Choi decided to give a hint.

“Hye-young, why do you think Internal Medicine is asking us to check this urgently?”

Having been trained by the strict Professor Lee Hahyun, she didn’t simply spoon-feed answers but prompted with questions instead. The issue here was that unlike Kim Jinsil, Lee Hye-young lacked both excellence and dedication.

“Uh… Maybe because they always take advantage without showing much gratitude when requesting cooperation?”

“Huh?”

Hye-young’s response indicated she might get annoyed just due to increased workload. In a way, she wasn’t entirely wrong; given Internal Medicine handles the largest number of patients among clinical departments, it inevitably leads to more requests for cooperation.

As part of the service department, Radiology often received numerous inquiries from clinical departments. Among them, abdominal imaging was particularly challenging, even for non-specialists who might attempt to interpret it hastily. It was so difficult that even some radiologists avoided reading these scans.

Still…it’s not appropriate to say such things in front of a professor.

Dr. Kim managed to hide his discomfort and asked again, recalling advice from a close friend he had recently received:

Not every situation warrants anger; restraining oneself in those moments makes one a good person.

It resonated deeply with him, and he considered adopting it as his personal motto.

“No, that’s not what I meant. Dr. Lee Hye-young, this clearly looks like hepatocellular carcinoma at first glance. But aren’t you curious why they requested further evaluation? Don’t you think there might be another differential diagnosis?”

She tried to sound calm by suppressing her voice tightly. At this point, even Hye-young realized something was off.

Oh… There must be more here than meets the eye.

She refocused and examined the scan again. After all, she had been trained at Taehwa Medical Center for nearly two years in the Radiology Department, despite finding abdominal scans somewhat challenging. Nevertheless, given her Internal Medicine background, she was confident in identifying any abnormalities.

Let’s see… It enhances during arterial phase, exits in venous and delayed phases. Hmm?

No matter how many times she looked, it appeared unmistakably like hepatocellular carcinoma (HCC). She wanted to suggest that there might be another explanation, but Dr. Kim’s expression clearly indicated he expected a different response. In fact, his disappointment seemed to grow with each passing moment.

“Well, do you know what it is?”

“Well…”

“Yes, it’s understandable that you wouldn’t know. This is actually quite rare, so it’s not easy to suspect.”

Dr. Kim Jinsil knew about this case only because she had extensively studied and reviewed numerous patient files. Otherwise, despite being a professor of radiology, she likely wouldn’t have been aware of it either. While Lee Hye-young was indeed inexperienced, her lack of knowledge on this matter wasn’t something to criticize her for.

But how did Internal Medicine manage to suspect and diagnose it?

‘Did they do it hastily without proper suspicion, just as Lee Hye-young suggested?’

Curiosity piqued, Dr. Kim finally called the outpatient clinic.

“Yes, this is Professor Taejin Jo’s office.” The staff member promptly answered since they were already on hold awaiting a response.

“Oh, yes, here you go.” The secretary promptly handed the phone to Professor Taejin, informing him that it was Dr. Kim Jinsil from the Radiology Department calling.

“Hello, Dr. Kim.”

“Yes, Professor Taejin Jo. This is regarding the recent case requiring interdisciplinary cooperation.”

“I see.”

“By any chance, were you suspecting something other than hepatocellular carcinoma?”

“Oh… Yes, umm… It’s IAA—a hepatic hemangioma.”

“Ah.”

He never expected Internal Medicine to catch this; he thought it was highly unlikely. If such occurrences continued, even the existence of the Radiology Department could be threatened. Previously, Dr. Kim had considered the rise of artificial intelligence as the biggest crisis ever, but now an unforeseen variable emerged: the independence of clinical departments.

“Oh, actually, it wasn’t me who suspected it.”

On the other hand, Taejin Jo could detect panic in Professor Kim Jinsil’s voice. Lee Hyunjong would have smirked as if it was obvious, but Taejin Jo was straightforward.

“What? Then who…?”

“Who else? It must be Soohyuk.”

“Oh…”

“Huh, not me? Are you convinced by what Suhyuk found? That hurts my feelings.”

“No, that’s not what I meant.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it. Our Soohyuk is a national treasure. So, does this make it seem more likely?”

Taejin Jo laughed heartily, genuinely pleased. Competing with a resident might seem disheartening to some, especially when being outpaced in certain aspects. However, for Taejin Jo, it wasn’t due to lack of ambition or naivety; rather, he had naturally adapted because his most respected seniors acted similarly.

Taejin Jo was neither naive nor foolish. However, his attitude naturally shifted due to two senior colleagues he deeply admired.

“Yes, it seems high. We need to examine the tissue first though. By the way, this location isn’t ideal. It might be slightly challenging, so please explain the risks during the outpatient visit as well. I will also discuss them here.”

“Right, of course. Since you’ll perform the procedure, we require consent from the patient. When should I send her?”

“The lab results indicate no bleeding tendency, so she can come immediately. Please transfer her to the intervention room, and I’ll handle the rest.”

“Understood, thank you. U-um, let me buy you a Gifticon as appreciation.”

“Oh, n-no, that’s not necessary. Really, it’s okay.”

Dr. Kim genuinely declined Taejin’s offer. Although receiving coffee would be pleasant at that moment, it could become troublesome later on. A fellow pediatric professor with similar years of experience had once failed to decline such favors and gained a reputation for being overly accommodating, even working over weekends just because someone bought him a cup of coffee.

“Yes, thank you very much.”

Taejin Jo wasn’t one to drag things out, so he promptly ended the call and called his patient back into the room. The mass might not be cancerous, but there was also a higher chance that it was benign. He explained they needed to perform tests as a precautionary measure. Despite mentioning potential risks throughout their discussion, it seemed like the patient wasn’t fully processing the information.

“You’re saying it might not be cancer?”

“Yes, but we need to run some—”

“It could still not be cancer, right?”

“Yes, but there’s one test—”

“It isn’t cancer?”

“No, that’s not what I meant…”

The patient had come prepared for the worst news, so hearing from the professor that it might not be liver cancer understandably excited him. Taejin shared his joy, yet he also tried hard to fulfill his duties as a doctor.

“Phew.” Due to spending extra time with this particular patient, the rest of the outpatient clinic appointments were delayed. Although the last scheduled appointment was at five o’clock, they didn’t finish until almost six. Ideally, Taejin would’ve treated these diligent residents to dinner, but unfortunately, he had no time.

“Oh, is there a conference today?”

“Yes, Professor. Professors Lee Hyunjong, Shin Hyun-tae, Jang Deoksu…”

Such is life working at a university hospital.

Taejin Jo listened intently as An Dae-hoon, performing admirably for a first-year resident, rattled off the list of attendees. Suddenly, Taejin’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Wait, wait. Professor Lee Hyunjong is attending?”

“Yes.”

“That’s strange.”

Lee Hyunjong disliked anything bothersome, so he rarely participated in department events. Ever since becoming director, he had long avoided them altogether by claiming his busy schedule as an excuse.

“What case is it today?”

For Lee Hyunjong to attend meant it must be an incredibly challenging one—difficult enough to pique his interest.

“I believe it’s a case presented by Professor Shin Hyun-tae.”

“Oh wow! Let’s hurry up and go.”

“Pardon me?”

“The director plans to give Manager An a real tongue-lashing. You won’t want to miss this spectacle.”