Chapter 29: Another Place, I

“What’s the patient’s blood pressure?!”

“It keeps dropping!”

“The IV… How much fluid has been administered so far?”

“We’ve already given them plenty!”

“Vasoconstrictor… Administer a vasoconstrictor.” At Taejin Jo’s command, one of the nurses quickly injected the prepared drug through the line connected to the patient.

However, there was no significant change on the ECG monitor. As if reaching its limit, the heart rate spiked momentarily before plummeting again.

“No way! No pulse! Interns, what’re you waiting for?! Start CPR immediately!”

The patient’s heart finally stopped completely, and the ECG displayed a flatline.

Just in case, Professor Taejin Jo had been tinkering with the defibrillator. He threw it aside and climbed on top of the patient. Until the interns gathered around him, he pressed hard against the patient’s chest. The force was so strong that some ribs were broken. At this moment, Suhyuk considered the possibility of lung damage due to fractured ribs while performing arterial blood sampling at the patient’s wrist, but it wasn’t important anymore. Currently, the only priority was restarting the patient’s heart.

“Intern Shin! Take this for analysis!”

Suhyuk handed over the extracted arterial blood sample to another intern before calling out:

“Professor! I’ll take over now!”

He stepped in, replacing the panting Professor Taejin Jo atop the patient.

He was slightly slower due to his left leg, but it wasn’t impossible as the patient’s bed was already lowered.

“One, two, three, four.”

Following what he had learned and relying on muscle memory, Suhyuk placed his palms between the patient’s nipples, straightened his arms, and fully applied his weight to compress the chest. An observer might think he was torturing the patient, but even this forceful compression couldn’t replicate the beating of an actual heart.

“[The multiple organ failure has progressed severely. Further treatment is futile.]”

As Suhyuk continued pressing down with sweat pouring from him, Baruda abruptly declared its discouraging assessment.

‘Shut up! Don’t say such nonsense!’

Actually, Suhyuk fully agreed with Baruda’s words, but he couldn’t help cursing.

‘The patient is too young!’

The age of the patient under Suhyuk was merely eighteen years old. This patient wasn’t assigned to him; it was a blood cancer patient managed by another second-year resident.

Taejin Jo, Lee Suhyuk, and Kim Insoo arrived first at this chaotic scene for a simple reason. They just happened to witness the patient collapsing during their rounds.

It wasn’t Suhyuk, but Baruda who noticed:

“The patient in that corner has an unusual heartbeat.”

Initially, Suhyuk thought Baruda was simply practicing his diagnostic skills as usual.

Originally, Baruda used to practice his diagnostic skills by observing people or patients he met for the first time.

“The blood pressure is falling while the heart rate increases.”

However, after hearing the second statement, I couldn’t ignore it anymore. Instead of stating a diagnosis, Baruda was describing the current situation.

I turned my head and saw a young patient lying there. They were too young to be from the Hematology-Oncology Department.

‘I have to save them!’

After that, the patient’s heart rate, which had spiked to maintain their blood pressure, rapidly plummeted, leading to this current scene of cardiopulmonary resuscitation (CPR).

“It’s already too late.”

‘Don’t just repeat the same words! Find a solution!’

“Please check the data, Suhyuk. Have you read the patient’s medical records?”

‘Huh?’

While continuing chest compressions on the patient, Suhyuk recalled the record Baruda mentioned earlier.

‘CML, multiple metastases (brain, liver, lung)’

This was the diagnosis of the patient - chronic myeloid leukemia with metastasis to the brain, liver, and lungs.

‘Waiting for BM transplantation.’

This indicated the patient’s future plan: waiting for bone marrow transplantation. There was no other hope or treatment available besides this transplant. In other words, without a donor, the patient would simply be awaiting death.

‘Damn it!’

[Stop, Suhyuk.]

‘Shut up!’]

[Take a moment…and look around you.]

‘Huh? Oh…’

Finally, Suhyuk realized that all medical personnel except himself had stopped their efforts. He also became aware that it had been thirty minutes since the patient entered cardiac arrest. Despite continuous chest compressions and medication during this time, the heart failed to restart.

“Hey, Suhyuk, step aside.”

“Oh, yes, Professor.”

As soon as Suhyuk paused, Taejin Jo, with a somber expression, gestured towards Kim Insoo. Immediately, Kim Insoo rushed forward, gently pulling down the exhausted Suhyuk from atop the patient.

“A-ah…”

At that moment, the middle-aged woman standing by the child’s side burst into tears. With Suhyuk no longer obstructing her view, she could finally see her son’s face clearly - only to realize there was no life left within him.

“Let’s step aside first. The professor and…the primary physician have arrived.”

Kim Insoo gently pulled Suhyuk away from the grieving mother and her deceased son. Initially bewildered, Suhyuk followed Kim Insoo out of the hospital room.

Tap.

Tap.

Despite his distress, Suhyuk didn’t forget to use his cane, indicating how accustomed he had become to it.

“Suhyuk, are you okay?” Taejin Jo, who was already waiting in the hallway, asked with genuine concern. This display of affection left other residents feeling more baffled than jealous. However, having firsthand knowledge of what kind of intern Suhyuk was, Kim Insoo felt nothing but admiration for him.

“Yes… Yes, I’m fine. Thank you,” Suhyuk responded, eliciting a smile from Professor Jo upon hearing that he was alright.

Considering he had witnessed another’s death, this reaction was understandable. However, it was necessary to endure such emotions to work in the Internal Medicine department of a university hospital. Among them, the Hematology-Oncology Department dealt with patients on the brink of death regularly.

“Yes. Inma, she wasn’t even your patient… Why get so worked up?”

Taejin Jo’s words were not meant to encourage indifference towards someone’s death. As a professor in Internal Medicine at a university hospital, one learns several things beyond medicine by that age and stage in their career.

There is a limit to human emotions.

This was one such realization. Even the strongest person can become emotionally drained if they continuously give too much. And what happens if they cannot care for their own patients due to emotional exhaustion?

It was not appropriate to simply say that the patient was unlucky. This mindset did not align with the professionalism expected of a doctor.

“My apologies, Professor.” Suhyuk hastily bowed, fully understanding the meaning behind Taejin Jo’s words.

Taejin Jo silently observed the back of Suhyuk’s neck before continuing his stride.

“It’s fine. There’s nothing wrong with giving your best for patients. Let’s go. The grandfather is waiting for us.”

“Yes, sir!” Responding promptly, Suhyuk raced ahead, tapping his cane briskly as he led the way. He opened the door leading to the sterile hospital room.

Beyond the glass window, they spotted the elderly patient sitting upright with good posture. Despite undergoing dialysis, he appeared remarkably healthy otherwise.

Tap.

As Professor Taejin Jo mentioned earlier, it seemed like the patient had been waiting for Suhyuk all day as he immediately got out of bed and put on his slippers. Despite not having fully recovered his immune function yet, his movements were quite impressive.

“Hey! Please stay seated! What will you do if you fall?” Suhyuk chided the grandfather.

However, the sadness etched on his face from bidding farewell to the unnamed patient earlier was now gone. Witnessing the revival of a patient whom he had nearly given up on but decided to treat with hope held immense power over him.

“Patient, the test results… The transplanted bone marrow is showing excellent engraftment. You have a slight fever, but…” Taejin Jo paused before continuing, “It appears to be an inflammatory response due to killing cancer cells.”

Taejin Jo entered the room even before Suhyuk could fully don his hospital gown, despite feeling unwell himself.

He didn’t say it out loud, but he was genuinely happy that a patient whom he had given up on was now alive and well.

“Inflammation…?”

The professor excitedly used medical jargon without considering whether the patient could understand him. As a result, Suhyuk had to step in later to provide additional explanations.

“Grandfather. Your bone marrow has been replaced with someone else’s marrow, right? The new marrow recognizes your cancer as foreign cells, so it is fighting against them.”

Of course, this explanation wasn’t straightforward either. A basic understanding of immunology would have helped grasp the concept. Nonetheless, his grandfather beamed widely at the doctors’ enthusiasm. Regardless of what exactly was happening, having these doctors animatedly discuss his case must mean something positive.

“Ah, yes. That’s right.” After laughing for some time, Professor Taejin Jo opened his mouth again while pointing at Suhyuk.

“Patient-ji. Today, Dr. Lee Suhyuk will be transferring to Internal Medicine. Suhyuk, say goodbye and thank him.”

“Oh, yes. Patient-ji, I am moving somewhere else now. Please continue your treatment diligently and recover soon. Thank you very much.”

Suhyuk looked towards the spot on the sterile room window where he had once written “Please Stay Alive,” now invisible, and bowed respectfully.

“A-Ah… How sad…” The father appeared genuinely upset with tears welling up in his eyes.

Seeing this, Professor Taejin Jo deliberately burst out laughing.

“Oh come on! Patient-ji, remember, as your designated doctor, I’m important too! This makes me feel quite hurt.”

“Ah, ah. Is that so? I’m sorry.”

“No, no. Anyway, starting tomorrow, another doctor will take care of you. I’ll introduce you to him. Please rest now.”

With his skilled smile, he gracefully exited the hospital room.

“Oh, what should I do with this sadness?”

Contrary to his words to the patient, Taejin Jo looked genuinely disappointed as he gazed at Lee Suhyuk.

Kim Insoo couldn’t blame him; during the past month, Suhyuk had truly done an excellent job, making it difficult for anyone else to match his dedication as the primary physician.

“Well…”

Taejin’s reaction left Suhyuk unsure of how to respond. Observing Suhyuk’s uncertainty, Taejin Jo burst out laughing again.

If his previous laughter was meant to comfort the patient, this laughter seemed intended for himself.

“It’s okay, it’s okay! I can ask about Blood Type later!”

“I’ll do my best if you give me the opportunity!”

“Hahaha… Well… let’s think about that slowly. How about endocrinology next time?”

“Yes.”

“Over there…” Taejin Jo recalled Suhyuk’s assigned professor and Chief Kim Jinyoung. Neither of them were particularly good individuals. However, mentioning their shortcomings directly didn’t seem appropriate. Instead, he decided to simply pat Suhyuk on the shoulder. After all, Suhyuk would excel wherever he went.

“Don’t be overwhelmed by the differences here; just keep doing your best.” Of course, Taejin added words of encouragement.

“Yes, Professor. Thank you,” Suhyuk responded with his usual confident demeanor.