A Surgeon Who Uses Martial Arts [EN]: Chapter 377

Slurp, slurp.

“Ahhh, that’s the stuff!”

Having finished watching the NBA game, Junhoo returned to his dorm and devoured a cup of ramen.

Chewing on the perfectly cooked noodles.

And washing it down with the spicy broth—it was like paradise.

The stress he had accumulated from the greasy dorm food melted away.

Even his homesickness for Korea seemed to fade.

As he ate, Junhoo stared at the refrigerator next to the sink.

Three boxes of cup ramen were stacked on top of the fridge, forming a three-story tower.

A reassuring stockpile.

He had bought them on his way back after stopping by a large supermarket.

The freezer even contained kimchi dumplings.

He hadn’t realized it before.

But K-food, like K-pop, was quite popular in the United States. And the leader of this trend was none other than dumplings.

Differentiated from Chinese dumplings and capturing the taste of the locals, their popularity was exploding.

According to Maxwell.

The domestic dumpling brand ‘Bibigo’ was even a sponsor of the NBA’s prestigious LA Lakers.

At first, Junhoo told him not to joke around.

Bibigo’s logo on the chest of LeBron James, the NBA’s top player?

It was an unimaginable image.

He searched for photos with doubt, but surprisingly, the imagination had already become reality.

Maxwell was right!

The Bibigo logo was clearly visible on the chests of the LA Lakers players.

Usually, the Korean Wave [Hallyu] craze reported in the news is exaggerated like an inflated balloon…

But this time, it didn’t seem like a bluff.

Bzzzz.

Bzzzz.

Just as he finished the last drop of ramen broth.

The phone next to him vibrated.

It was an unknown number, but he answered it anyway.

-Hello, this is Andrew. I’m the player whose shoulder you treated at the game a few hours ago.

“Ah, yes. Nice to meet you.”

Junhoo said in a bright voice.

*Did he get Junhoo’s contact information when they exchanged business cards with the team doctor?*

*Or did he ask Maxwell?*

A question crossed his mind.

-I went straight to the locker room without even thanking you, and it’s been bothering me.

“Don’t worry about that. Are you at the hospital now?”

-Yes. I had tests done at the hospital designated by our team and just finished my examination.

“What did they say?”

Junhoo asked with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

Junhoo had seen signs of habitual shoulder dislocation in Andrew.

If the detailed examination revealed signs of the condition worsening, his golden age as a player could be completely wiped out due to surgery and rehabilitation.

-They said it’s not surgery, but a simple procedure, and I should rest for a month. They said my condition is better than they expected.

“That’s the best news I’ve heard all day.”

-But seriously, have you ever thought about becoming a team doctor?

Andrew changed the subject.

Junhoo chuckled.

As if the existing team doctor wasn’t enough, now even Andrew was clamoring to recruit Junhoo as a team doctor.

-My shoulder felt so much better after you touched it and fixed it. Everyone was amazed, saying it was like magic.

“I appreciate the thought, but I want to focus on being a surgeon, just like you want to be the best defender in the NBA.”

-When you put it like that, I can’t even try to persuade you. You got me good.

Andrew’s voice was cheerful.

Although they were in different professions.

A huge goal.

And the determination and perseverance to achieve it.

Junhoo and Andrew had these two things in common.

-Thank you again. Thanks to you, I was able to play without regrets.

“Thank you for showing me a great game until the end. Congratulations on today’s victory.”

-Okay, teacher. Get some rest.

Even after the call with Andrew ended, Junhoo stared at his phone for a long time.

Suddenly, the highlight of the game.

The last scene flashed through his mind.

Stephen Curry soaring like a bird.

Andrew covering Curry a half-beat late.

Andrew’s last-ditch block.

The arm he extended without giving up on defense.

He finally knocked the ball away.

The fact that he succeeded in blocking the shot with his injured shoulder made it even more picturesque and cinematic.

“Wowwwww!”

A tsunami of huge cheers swept through the stands.

Andrew cried then, and Junhoo felt a lump in his throat.

Victory gained through hardship always had a magical power to move people.

In any case, Junhoo felt vicariously satisfied through Andrew’s performance.

And he decided that from now on, like Andrew.

He would live a life of regret, but not one of lingering attachment.

Regret is reflecting on and repenting for ‘something already done.’

It was painful, but there was something to learn.

Regret also had many similarities to scars.

Sometimes it becomes a lesson, and sometimes it becomes a badge of honor.

But lingering attachment was utterly useless.

Lingering attachment is foolishly clinging to ‘something not done,’ but there is nothing to be gained from ‘something not done.’

If regret was like a scar.

Lingering attachment was like phantom pain.

It hurts even though there is nothing there. Because there is no injured area, it is difficult to even find a way to treat it.

Living as a surgeon.

What regrets and lingering attachments might I leave behind in the future?

Junhoo looked up at the ceiling and asked himself.

* * *

The next morning.

Junhoo, wearing his doctor’s gown, was heading to the pediatric neurosurgery ward.

The atmosphere in the hallway was quiet and cozy. It was rare to encounter staff, patients, or guardians.

It felt like he had rented the entire wide hallway.

Mayou [Hospital name] was just as peaceful on the weekends.

“Sandra, good morning.”

Junhoo greeted Sandra as he passed the station.

The Black female nurse, Sandra, glanced at Junhoo.

*Was she always so cold?*

*Or was she just busy?*

It was his first time on duty, so Junhoo couldn’t figure out why Sandra didn’t return his greeting.

Crossing the ward hallway, Junhoo looked around.

The biggest difference between American and Korean wards was, of course, the rooms.

In Korea, a 6-person room was the standard, while in the United States, a 1-person room was the standard, and a 3-person room was rarely used.

In terms of the ward environment alone, the United States was the clear winner.

Anyone who has been hospitalized in Korea would agree.

The nightmare of a cramped 6-person room like a chicken coop.

The horror of hearing the voices of other patients and guardians, the sound of chewing food, and the sound of snoring beyond the paper-thin curtains.

However, there was no reason to praise American hospital rooms.

Why?

Because of the astronomical hospital bills!

So, hospital life in Korea and the United States is…

Only the order in which you experience heaven and hell.

Creak.

A ward door about ten steps away opened, and someone came out.

“Kerry, what are you doing?”

Junhoo asked the nurse, Kerry.

Kerry was holding several bottles of cola in her hand as she came out of the room.

“I was running errands.”

Kerry sighed deeply as she answered.

“What kind of errands?”

“Cola delivery.”

“Why is a nurse delivering cola?”

Junhoo’s eyes widened like an owl’s.

“I guess they don’t do that in Korea?”

Kerry seemed surprised and continued.

“We deliver water and even alcohol. If a patient or guardian asks for something, we have to take care of almost everything.”

“That’s not a nurse’s job. And shouldn’t the patient or guardian bring it themselves if they want to eat it?”

Junhoo was dumbfounded.

Even though Mayou’s value was ‘patients first,’ this was crossing the line.

At this point, isn’t the nurse a servant?

If a patient asks to have their fingernails or toenails cut, are they going to do that too?

“The hospital decides what a nurse’s job is, not me.”

“Can’t you complain to the higher-ups? It doesn’t make sense.”

“What can I do? Mayou is a for-profit hospital after all, and it has to make as much money as possible. Do you know about the dolls by any chance?”

“I know. They provide them to stabilize pediatric patients.”

Junhoo nodded.

When a pediatric patient is first admitted, nurses give the pediatric patient a doll while explaining the admission.

“That’s paid.”

“What? They give dolls for money? I don’t even remember seeing them explain that it’s paid.”

Junhoo was horrified to realize the unknown truth.

“They just slip it in. For reference, the doll rental fee is 200,000 won [approximately $150 USD].”

“……”

“The drink delivery I’m doing now is also charged to the patient later as a service fee.”

“At this point, isn’t money the top priority, not the patient?”

“Maybe so. Would you like a bottle of cola, teacher?”

Kerry playfully held out a bottle to Junhoo. Junhoo shook his head from side to side as if he was fed up.

Creak.

Junhoo, who was crossing the ward, arrived at the resident on-call room.

First-year Daniel was sitting at his desk, writing charts.

Second-year Levi had his legs on the desk and was leaning back in his chair as if he were visiting a resort.

“Dr. Junhoo. Good morning.”

Daniel recognized Junhoo first and greeted him cheerfully.

Junhoo also waved and greeted him.

“Hello.”

Levi only turned his head towards Junhoo and greeted him perfunctorily.

Junhoo’s brow furrowed.

*Was he becoming a ‘kkondae’ [꼰대 – an older person who is condescending or preachy] and disliking Levi?*

*Or was Levi really crossing the line?*

To confirm the boundary, Junhoo sent a message to Maxwell.

The reply came surprisingly quickly.

[I’m on duty today. Levi is lazing around with his legs on the desk. Is this American style? Or is he just lazy?]

[He’s known for being a bit slick and lazy. He doesn’t listen to his superiors very well either.]

[Okay. Thanks.]

Junhoo’s eyes sharpened as he put his phone in his gown pocket.

“Can I talk to you for a second?”

Junhoo said as he approached Levi.

Even then, Levi still had his feet on the desk.

“What do you want to say?”

“Your work attitude is terrible. First, take your feet off the desk.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Are you six or seven years old? Is it all right if you don’t want to?”

“What am I supposed to say if I don’t like it?”

Levi asked back.

Without further ado.

Junhoo struck Levi’s shin with the side of his hand.

Only then did Levi’s legs come down.

“Ouch! What are you doing?”

Levi frowned and jumped up from his chair.

And he looked down at Junhoo with angry eyes.

He didn’t know when he was sitting down, but Levi was a tall man of about 190 centimeters [approximately 6’3″].

His shoulders were broad, as if he liked to exercise.

“You little punk, you’re annoying me from the morning. Did you hit me? Do you want to try it for real?”

“Both… both of you, calm down! You shouldn’t fight from the morning. Let’s solve it with words…”

First-year Daniel intervened between Junhoo and Levi.

“Can a boost-up trainee hit a resident at will?”

Levi’s voice rose.

His face was also flushed red.

“Then do your job properly. Is the on-call room your living room?”

“That doesn’t mean you have to hit me.”

“He’s not an animal, and he can’t understand even if I talk to him. Is there any other way?”

“You little X, you talk like a dog. Seriously!”

Junhoo frowned at Levi’s way of speaking, which mixed F-words indiscriminately.

But what bothered him was not the swearing. It was the subtle bad breath coming from his mouth.

“Daniel, you go out for a while. I have something to say to Levi alone.”