A competent doctor can cure everything

On the first day of August, there weren’t many inpatients at the Traditional Korean Medicine Obstetrics and Gynecology Department.

A few mothers recovering from childbirth and patients recovering from gynecological cancer surgery were the only ones.

Everyone was recovering smoothly, and even if I looked through the future charts, there were no major concerns.

Although I wouldn’t be specializing in obstetrics and gynecology, I had high expectations for this department.

That’s because female patients often come in with inquiries about gynecological issues unexpectedly.

‘Just look at Blue Whales; all the athletes are women.’

So, I was looking forward to my first morning rounds with the professor.

According to the strict rules, I could only see the conditions of patients I had personally seen, so I couldn’t read the professor’s memory if I hadn’t met the patients myself.

‘I’ll have to get my hands on the needles and charts the professor has used separately. But first, meeting Professor Bu Yeo-jung comes first.’

After the ward rounds, Professor Bu Yeo-jung looked at me with an evaluative gaze.

“You’re the new intern, right? Your name is Seon-Joon, correct? The top graduate from Hanbit University?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

Professor Bu, in her 50s, always maintains perfect styling with her thick, wavy hair. She’s from Jeju Island.

Her skills as a traditional Korean medicine doctor and her ability as a lecturer are both excellent, but her personality causes mixed opinions among the students.

The nickname the students gave her, “Tangerine Country Tyrant,” comes from her strict and intimidating demeanor.

“You’ve been causing quite a stir at the hospital, huh? Well, that’s the problem with noisy, empty cans. You can tell whether they’re empty or not with just a few words.”

Oh. Starting off with a very sharp greeting.

“Do you know what our department does?”

“The Traditional Korean Medicine Obstetrics and Gynecology Department focuses on identifying the unique characteristics of women and treating diseases specific to women based on traditional Korean medicine theory. We treat conditions such as menstrual disorders, infertility, postpartum conditions, menopausal disorders, and gynecological cancers.”

Asking such a question to a new intern was, by now, a well-known fact around August.

Thanks to that, I was able to give the prepared answer without getting flustered.

“Hmm, your answer is decent. But have you ever thought about why a Traditional Korean Medicine Obstetrics and Gynecology Department is necessary?”

“…?”

Professor Bu threw a curveball.

This question was unexpected… and answering it was quite tricky.

I casually glanced at the first-year resident, Lee Yi-won, who was standing nearby.

Her straight bob cut and haughty expression stood out.

She blinked her long eyelashes and watched with interest, but it was clear she had no intention of helping me.

“Do you not understand what I mean? For example, how would Western medicine and traditional Korean medicine treat primary dysmenorrhea differently?”

Professor Bu sharply urged me to respond.

Primary (or “idiopathic”) means there is no underlying disease, and dysmenorrhea refers to menstrual pain.

In other words, primary dysmenorrhea means experiencing menstrual pain without any particular pathology in the pelvic cavity.

“In Traditional Korean Medicine…”

“Hold on. Did you not hear my question properly? I asked about Western medicine and Traditional Korean Medicine, right? Then you should answer in that order.”

Ugh… I could feel my frustration starting to build.

“In Western medicine, painkillers or hormonal medications are prescribed. In Traditional Korean Medicine, treatment is based on herbal medicine tailored to the patient’s condition.”

“That’s right. But painkillers and birth control pills cost only a few thousand won, while herbal medicine costs hundreds of thousands of won. So why should someone take herbal medicine? It’s the same with conditions like vaginitis or cystitis. Why would patients come to take herbal medicine when they could get antibiotics for a few thousand won?”

I was stumped by the unexpected question.

What exactly was the professor trying to say?

I quickly regained my focus and started thinking.

‘There’s no way the conclusion is that herbal medicine isn’t necessary.’

Just as the professor was about to urge me again, I spoke up.

“Patients who can’t take Western medicine, or those dissatisfied with Western treatments, are likely to turn to herbal medicine.”

“Exactly. Patients who experience side effects from hormonal medications, or those whose infections keep recurring even with antibiotics, or those who want more fundamental treatment than just pain relief, will look for herbal medicine.”

It seemed like I had given the right answer. The professor’s tone softened.

“Herbal medicine is a non-reimbursed treatment, so it can’t compete with the cost-effectiveness of reimbursed Western medicine. Therefore, we should focus on areas where Western medicine falls short.”

Now, I understood what the professor meant.

“The residents at this hospital never think about these things. They spend four years and then end up working at a local clinic. The treatment you gave to that patient with paraplegia? Do you think they could do that at a local clinic? You, too, will need to find a compromise between idealism and reality. Think carefully about what I’m telling you.”

At first, it seemed like the professor was picking a fight, but there were definitely important points I needed to take to heart.

If I’m not going to be a “pay doctor” forever, then it’s not just about treatment—management skills are essential as well.

Understand the demand of the healthcare service users.

Provide treatment that takes reality into account.

That’s probably what the professor was trying to say.

“Yes, I’ll keep that in mind.”

At first, I felt flustered and annoyed, but once I understood the professor’s intentions, my feelings quickly shifted to gratitude.

And now that we had this much of a conversation, it seemed like finding the right intermediary would give me the opportunity to approach Professor Bu Yeo-jung directly.

So, I could nod in agreement, feeling good.

“You still have a lot to learn, right?”

“Yes. I will work hard.”

Professor Bu Yeo-jung raised an elegant brow, looking at me with a slight frown.

“Whether you work hard or not is none of my concern. I heard that in your previous department, you were even doing the role of a primary doctor as an intern.”

“?”

“In our department, you’ll focus only on being an intern. I haven’t seen you myself, and you’re already being made a primary doctor based on rumors? How could I allow that?”

Oh no. This is bad.

“Do you have a problem with that?”

“No, not at all.”

The “Ginger King” of Gyeolguk seems like a formidable opponent.

* * *

“Wait, so in Obstetrics and Gynecology, you’re only allowed to do the intern job?”

“I think that’s what I’ll have to do for now.”

“Ah… Professor Bu Yeo-jung is as strict as the rumors say…”

Late lunch hour. I came to the hospital café on the first floor with Wonil and Min-hwa.

I skipped lunch and went through the discharge process with my grandmother, and by the time we finished, these guys had dragged me to the café.

They insisted I eat a sandwich or something, so I reluctantly followed them.

The staff said they’d bring our food, so we sat down and waited.

“Hyung! Still, thanks to Lee Hyun-seung fellow, your grandmother got treated quickly. I heard that person was super scary, but I guess not?”

“Yeah, I heard she used to hate the Department of Oriental Medicine… said she wouldn’t even accept joint treatments.”

“She’s blunt and straightforward, but she seems like a good person.”

Hearing them talk, I thought of Lee Hyun-seung.

I owe her a lot over the weekend.

“But hyung, did you contact the fellow on Friday night? Wasn’t she mad?”

“Oh, I was with her when I got the call about Grandma collapsing.”

“What? Why?”

“We had agreed to have a meal together, so we were eating.”

“Hmm? That sounds a bit suspicious.”

This guy, Wonil, must come to the hospital just to tease me.

Whenever there’s an opportunity, he won’t let it go.

“Suspicious? What do you mean? A professor can have a meal with anyone.”

“You’re not even in the same department, and she’s from Western medicine. Why would she invite you? Just the two of you?”

Ignoring his nonsense, I gave him a look of mild disdain and didn’t respond.

At that moment, a young woman in a café uniform brought over the drinks and sandwiches.

“Enjoy your meal!”

As she set down the tray, a ring on her left ring finger sparkled.

Wonil saw it and raised his voice.

“Oh!! That ring—did you finally get a proposal?”

“Wow~ How did you know?”

“Last time, you were worried because your boyfriend hadn’t proposed, remember?”

“You remember that! Hehe. Yes, I got proposed to this weekend!”

“Ah, congratulations!”

Wonil has such a charm; it’s almost amazing how friendly he is.

She probably introduced herself to everyone in the hospital.

The woman chatted a bit more with Wonil before heading back.

“This café owner’s daughter, apparently.”

At Wonil’s whispered explanation, I looked at the woman standing at the counter.

She was fanning herself with her hand, her face flushed.

Now that I think about it, she really looks like Nayejin from before.

Her personality seems to resemble her father’s—calm and steady.

‘Does she get hot easily?’

Even though it’s August, this café is well air-conditioned.

Wonil’s voice cut through my thoughts.

“Ah~ She must be thinking about her boyfriend, huh? Her cheeks are all red~.”

He excitedly went on to explain details I hadn’t asked for.

“They’ve been dating for a long time, and the topic of marriage came up, but, crucially, he said he wouldn’t propose~. She was asking for advice, so I listened in. Looks like she finally got her proposal.”

“Good for her.”

“Yeah.”

Wonil nodded, then smoothly shifted his attention back to me.

“So, hyung, do you think you could get along with CV (Cardiovascular) Fellow?”

“…I’m going ahead.”

I ignored him lightly, standing up with my coffee and sandwich in hand.

Behind me, I heard Wonil’s frustrated voice.

“Wait, but seriously, doesn’t this all seem weird to you, Rilla hyung? Am I the only one who thinks it’s strange?”

* * *

That night, I was on duty at the hospital.

As expected, I was able to channel through the paper chart written by Professor Bu Yeo-jung.

While I was alone in the intern training room, happily absorbing gynecology knowledge…

♪ ♫ ♬

– 7777

My phone rang, showing the emergency room’s internal line number.

From the very first day in gynecology, an emergency room call.

“Doctor, this is the ER. We have a patient with back pain. She’s currently pregnant, and there are no treatments or tests we can do from the Western medicine side, so she’s requesting traditional Korean medicine treatment.”

The ER nurse’s familiar, quick notification came through.

ER nurses definitely have a different vibe from those in the traditional medicine department.

They all seem like they could easily participate in a hip-hop survival competition.

‘Pregnancy-related back pain is a situation where they have no choice but to come to the Korean medicine ER.’

When someone comes to the ER with acute back pain, Western medicine usually performs an X-ray and gives painkillers, but that can’t be done with a pregnant patient.

Pregnancy-related back pain refers to pain in the lower back or pelvic area during pregnancy.

50% of pregnant women experience it, and it’s most common between the 5th and 7th months of pregnancy.

I quickly headed to the ER, where I found a heavily pregnant woman lying in the bed with a deeply furrowed brow.

Next to her, a middle-aged woman, probably her mother, was holding her hand tightly.

After a brief greeting, I began the patient’s examination.

“Mrs, when is your due date?”

“I’m 38 weeks now, and I’m scheduled for a C-section at Hanbit University next week.”

The patient’s mother, with a worried look on her face, added, “My daughter has had back pain since the 30th week of her pregnancy. She just wore a support belt and dealt with it, but today the pain was unbearable, so we came to the ER.”

The patient’s mother looked familiar. Where had I seen her before…?

‘Well, that’s not important right now.’

I started with the physical examination of the patient.

The most common test for back pain is the SLR test (Straight Leg Raise test), where the patient lies down and raises their leg to 90 degrees.

However, considering that the patient is pregnant, I chose a different test: PPPP (Posterior Pelvic Pain Provocation).

This is a test that can easily differentiate between lower back pain and pelvic pain.

‘I’ll have the patient lie flat, bend the hip and knee of the affected side to 90 degrees, and gently press the knee downward.’

If the pregnant patient feels pain in the sacroiliac joint or pelvic area during this test, it is more likely to be pelvic pain rather than back pain.

I also confirmed that there are no other issues such as vaginal bleeding, high fever, or difficulty urinating.

“There are no other issues; it’s simple back pain.”

“Doctor, what should we do?”

“The resident doctor will come and take care of the treatment. Please wait a moment.”

In fact, I already know exactly where to place the needles and what treatment to perform in my mind.

I also really want to try the treatment method I learned from Professor Bu Yeo-jung earlier.

‘But as an intern in the emergency room, my role ends here, so it can’t be helped.’

After taking the patient’s history, quickly filling out the initial chart, I notified the resident.

Deciding on the treatment plan is the resident’s responsibility.

After leaving the patient waiting, I logged into the EMR on the ER computer. A red notification appeared at the top left of the chart.

This type of alert only shows up when there’s something unusual about the patient.

‘Staff family.’

Ah, as soon as I saw the notification, I realized.

The patient’s caregiver was someone I saw every day.