Chapter 180: Blood Type (1)

The patient made strange noises before pointing towards his hospital room.

“My phone is inside. Could you please bring it for me?”

“Yes.” Dahoon promptly agreed to the request.

This was a golden opportunity as answers were pouring out from the patient. He realized at that moment how fortunate he was to have asked Suhyuk for help. Dahoon felt like he could do anything now.

He’s truly amazing…!

Even the attending professor had been stumped by this patient. The amount of time spent discussing him during his previous admission was enormous. They held case conferences within the Department of Gastroenterology alone, but the conclusion remained to conduct methodical work-ups until they found the cause.

However, it was solved almost immediately this time? Despite knowing about the trial and error from his previous hospitalization, this achievement was remarkable. Suhyuk could be described as a surgical monster.

“Here you go.”

Thanks to Suhyuk, Dahoon felt like a huge burden had been lifted off his chest. He practically sprinted back with the phone.

“Thank you, Doctor.”

The patient accepted the phone feeling guilty for making such a request of someone who appeared to have little hair left on their head. Until now, he hadn’t given much thought to the bald man’s situation, but with the possibility of recovery, he began to feel more at ease.

“Hmm…”

In any case, as soon as the patient received the phone, he opened the calendar app. Confused, he also launched the KakaoTalk chat window.

After examining it for about five to ten minutes, she spoke again.

“It’s been…one month.”

“One month.”

Suhyuk tried to gauge one month ago. It had been approximately two weeks since her symptoms appeared. Considering this, it was quite plausible that her growth began a month ago.

However, he couldn’t shake off his concern regarding oral contraceptives.

[Aren’t they commonly used medication?]

‘Yes, I’ve heard that before.’

Of course, Suhyuk himself was unfamiliar with them. He never needed them, as his past relationships were more akin to childhood play than serious commitments.

Nevertheless, from a medical standpoint, these drugs were well-known. They have long been widely prescribed, making them essential knowledge for any doctor.

“Is this your…first time?”

“Oh… Yes. Um… Yes.”

When I asked her, she replied that it was her first time experiencing this symptom.

[Is it true? This…?]

‘I see. Hmm… Then we need to conduct more tests.’

There were various reasons why oral contraceptives became widely used, and one of them was their increasing safety over time. In other words, Bird-Kiari Syndrome is now relatively rare due to advancements in contraceptive formulations.

To be more precise, Bird-Kiari Syndrome typically occurs as a result of complex interactions between genetic predispositions and certain oral contraceptives. It is not a common side effect by any means.

“Then, it’s highly likely that the oral contraceptive is causing your symptoms. For now, stopping its use would be advisable.”

“Oh… Oh, yes. But can this really happen?”

“It is very rare but possible if there is a genetic predisposition… Don’t worry. It isn’t related to any other issues. It isn’t a hereditary condition.”

“I see. Ah… So this was the cause.” The patient nodded while sending something via Talk.

It was probably to her boyfriend.

[Hmm, I just felt a bitter emotion. Is it correct?]

‘Wh-What man?’

[Specifically, aren’t you feeling like everyone else is dating except for me? Wait, didn’t I see this in Suhyuk’s data before?]

‘Don’t make fun of me using my own data.’

Suhyuk’s command was firm and clear. However, Baruda pretended not to hear him. Of course, Suhyuk was valuable as his only input-output channel, but that didn’t mean Baruda had to obey him blindly.

However, this did not mean Suhyuk would obey Baruda’s whims.

[Yes, that is it. ‘Fluttering, I fly; these two cuckoos seem affectionate towards each other. Alas, lonely am I - who shall accompany me?’ This poem was written by Yuri, the second king of Goguryeo. It appears to reflect Suhyuk’s current emotions quite accurately.]

‘Ha…’

Suhyuk wasn’t even angry anymore. He just felt utterly bewildered. How could such nonsense accurately read his thoughts?

‘I also want to experience love.’

[Hmm… That suggestion is rejected.]

‘Why?!’

[Considering you’re only entering your third year as a resident, now is hardly the time for romance.]

‘Don’t forget, one of my colleagues got married?’

[Do you share the same goals with that colleague? You possess the body of a Baruda. Your duty is to become the world’s best doctor.]

‘Hah.’

It was true again. With Baruda finally acquired, it wouldn’t be appropriate to drift aimlessly.

“D-Doctor.”

As Suhyuk tried to gather his thoughts, Dahoon called out to him. Suhyuk realized he had been momentarily lost in thought once more.

“U-Uh, what?”

“Then add warfarin and diuretics. Should we observe her after discontinuing oral contraceptives?”

“Oh… Yes. Let’s do that. Schedule a follow-up visit. Also, get an ultrasound. No need for anything else; just check if the liver size has decreased.”

“Yes, Doctor. I’ll arrange it.” Dahoon nodded and headed towards the station to write the prescription.

Suhyuk watched Dahoon walk away before turning back to the patient. She now looked relieved as if she wanted to hug him tightly if only her body allowed it.

In any doctor-patient relationship, accurate diagnosis and treatment were considered the best ways to build rapport. There was truth in this old saying.

“Patient, I have prescribed medication for you, so let’s monitor your condition. You will get better now.”

“Thank you. Thank you very much.”

“No problem, it’s simply part of my duties.” Suhyuk knew that showing humility at such moments could be helpful. Boasting about one’s actions would only diminish their impact. He had learned this through experience:

[“See? I told you to watch what you say.”] It happened multiple times, even leading to his name appearing on patient complaint forums. The posts usually contained cute remarks like “Dr. Lee Suhyuk is great except he talks too much,” but regardless, having one’s name featured negatively wasn’t ideal.

“Oh no… ‘simply part of my duties’? I am truly immensely grateful.”

“Haha. At least you have been diagnosed, but it is not cured yet. Please rest well. You shouldn’t overdo it.”

“Yes, yes. Thank you very much.”

The patient thanked him about ten more times after that.

Suhyuk just laughed and returned to his on-call room.

Click.

As always, there was no one inside despite being a four-person shared space.

Initially, he thought they were uncomfortable with him, but upon closer observation, he realized that wasn’t the case.

‘Don’t bother Soohyuk. He’s…not just our hospital’s…but humanity’s treasure. He is smarter than me…at least as smart as I am. If you know what’s good for you, sleep elsewhere. Understood?’

It was due to Lee Hyunjong’s warning.

There were criticisms that this action was inappropriate as it occurred amidst rumors about non-director’s sons being unfairly treated. However, did Lee Hyunjong care about such opinions?

‘Hyung, even so, you just gave him your on-call room?’

‘So what? Would you give up yours? Soohyuk is more useful than you.’

‘Wow… That hurts a bit.’

‘Then why bother asking? Just step aside.’

Even Shin Hyun-tae, who had been pushed out under exaggerated pretenses, faced verbal dismissal from Hyunjong.

‘I must admit, it has made things easier for me though.’

‘Did someone say you’re getting ostracized? You saw today, right? It’s not true. As Director of Medicine nowadays… aren’t you considered an influencer?]

‘I don’t want to become popular through force.’

[Stop complaining and review the patient’s records. Isn’t there an outpatient clinic with Professor Taejin Jo tomorrow?]

‘Yes. Wait, why is Dr. Baek still here?’

[He has Blood Type. If something goes wrong, the patient will die. Do you want to see someone dying?]

‘That…’

Suhyuk murmured, ‘I never thought I would be personally attacked by a fool,’ as he raised the chart. The list of patients scheduled for tomorrow’s outpatient clinic with Professor Taejin Jo appeared. The list was so long that it required scrolling down. One might think this was excessive, but what could we do? This was Taehwa Medical Center after all.

Although it had lost its absolute throne, this medical center was still considered the best domestically. Patients desired treatment here, resulting in crowded outpatient clinics every day.

‘Are there any unusual patients?’

[I’m not sure. Professor Taejin Jo is meticulous, so he likely checked them already. Let’s take a look.]

‘Hmm…’

Taejin Jo became a professor based solely on his expertise without relying on connections or nepotism. He was straightforward, thorough, and diligent, constantly updating himself with new chemotherapy protocols almost daily. Consequently, the condition of his patients remained generally excellent. In fact, even during their first year, residents could handle most outpatient cases without significant issues.

It was no different today. Rather than feeling like he was supervising a first-year resident, it felt more like observing how Professor Taejin Jo assessed patients and developed treatment plans.

Look at this, look! He’s already left comments.

[I told you. It gives me goosebumps sometimes. How does he manage to do this every single day?]

Indeed, even now, before leaving work, Professor Jo had completed reviewing all the charts for tomorrow’s patients. One might suspect that perhaps a diligent intern did the charting, but the quality of notes clearly indicated they were from a professor. For most patients, Dr. Jo could devise a plan without needing to see them in person.

Hmm…

“What’s wrong?”

‘This patient…’

Suhyuk’s forehead suddenly wrinkled as he flipped through the chart. He felt something was off, but intuition held no value for Baruda with his malfunctioning logic circuits.

“Please share your thoughts.”

However, based on Baruda’s accumulated experiences and data, he had learned that Suhyuk’s intuition, often referred to as a ‘hunch’, could sometimes complement evidence-based medicine. With a serious expression, Baruda awaited Suhyuk’s explanation.

Contrary to Baruda’s expectations, Suhyuk maintained silence for quite some time, simply staring at one patient’s chart.

“What’s wrong?”

“Huh?”

“Hey!”

“My ear feels blocked… Wait, I meant my central nervous system.”

“Oh, did you have a temporal lobe seizure?”

“Fucking hell!”

“Is it serious?”

Unable to bear the tension any longer, Baruda resorted to teasing, though not intentionally.

Suhyuk was concentrating even though the patient seemed unremarkable based on the chart alone.

[No… This patient is just one with liver metastasis. It originally started as colorectal cancer. That’s exactly what it says here, what…]

‘Wait a moment.’

[Finally, you spoke? I kept checking if there was any wind.]

‘It isn’t that. Something seems strange. The patient has been deemed cured of colorectal cancer for seven years now. Yet suddenly, they have liver metastasis without any primary lesion?’

[Are you suggesting it might not be liver cancer? The findings suggest otherwise. It indicates metastasis, and the Radiology Department’s interpretation supports this.]

‘The diagnosis points to the liver, but there’s no clear sign of malignancy. Still… Ah, Lee Hye-young? Only her signature is present. She’s known for being quite hasty in her assessments.’

[I see why you’re suspicious, but still, these results…]