A Chaotic First Conference, Part 4
Everything ground to a halt. On the stage, the presenter stood frozen, his face drained of color, while even the elderly professor who had been dominating the room was left utterly speechless.
The suffocating silence was broken by the harsh scrape of a chair from a corner of the room. A middle-aged man sitting near the back made his way up to the stage. Graying hair, an expensive-looking jacket. He must be the presenter's advisor, I thought. What must it feel like to watch your student's presentation get publicly demolished in front of dozens of experts?
The advisor grabbed the microphone. His hand was trembling slightly. He cleared his throat a few times, then forced his voice to remain calm as he spoke. "Ah... yes..."
"Thank you for that very sharp observation. It seems there was an aspect we failed to verify. I deeply apologize to the chairperson, as well as my seniors and fellow professors, for the shortcomings in this presentation. We will contact the patient immediately to take the necessary measures."
I stood up and gave a polite nod toward the advisor. "Yes. Thank you."
The chairperson quickly called the next presenter in an attempt to smooth over the awkward atmosphere. But the air in the seminar room had already shifted irreversibly. No one was paying attention to the next presentation anymore. Whispers rippled continuously through the crowd.
I sat back down and tried my best to fade into the background. I could clearly hear the conversation between two white-haired professors sitting directly in front of me.
"Haha, well, we've got a real live wire here. Mistaking apical HCM for Takotsubo... well, I suppose that can happen if the imaging is ambiguous. But missing that T-wave on the EKG... I don't know what the advisor was doing."
"Indeed. Young folks these days are so lacking in the basics. But that fellow who just asked the question..."
"I heard he's a first-year Emergency Medicine resident."
"Haha, quite a terrifying monster has come up from Busan."
Behind me, I could hear the excited voices of young residents.
"Hey, did you see that? He just completely demolished them."
"But who is he? I've never seen him before."
"Han Hyeon-jae. Didn't you hear him introduce himself? He's a first-year EM resident."
"What? A first-year? Stop lying. How does a first-year ask a question like that?"
"No, seriously, it's true!"
I dragged Kim Ji-hoon out of the seminar room as if I were about to grab him by the collar. I had only one goal: to escape this cutthroat den of scholars as quickly as possible and grab a cup of free coffee from the booths in the distance.
"Hey, hey! Slow down! I'm gonna trip!" With Ji-hoon's shrieks acting as my background music, I hurried down the hallway. Unobtrusively. As fast as possible. Right then—
"You there."
Dammit. I stopped in my tracks. Should I pretend I didn't hear and keep going? No, if I did that, our department chief might get a call tomorrow morning. 'Dr. Han Hyeon-jae, a first-year at your hospital, completely ignored me when I called him. How on earth are you training your residents? Heh.'
Plastering the most polite smile in the world onto my face, I turned around. Standing there was the very same elderly professor who had looked at me with intrigued eyes during my question.
"Ah, so you're... Dr. Han... Hyeon-jae." The professor checked my name tag and nodded with satisfaction. Behind him stood two other professors of similar age.
"Haha, yes. I'm Han Hyeon-jae." I laughed awkwardly, bowing so deeply my waist practically folded in half.
"I am Professor Kim Hyukjae, the Head of Emergency Medicine at Ohsung Seoul Hospital."
Ohsung Seoul Hospital. One of the hospitals reigning at the absolute pinnacle of the South Korean medical world. And he was the Head of Emergency Medicine there. In my mind, I was already performing a full, forehead-to-floor bow of ultimate reverence.
"Oh my! Hello, Professor! I've heard so much about you!" Of course, I hadn't heard a thing. But I had to pretend I did. This was the survival method of a Korean resident.
Professor Kim Hyukjae chuckled, seemingly pleased by my exaggerated reaction, and patted my shoulder. "Yes, yes. I was very impressed by your question earlier. I like that kind of eye. A sharp gaze that doesn't just nod along and say, 'Ah, I see.' That's what makes a doctor grow."
"You flatter me, Professor." I didn't know what to do with myself. Even though I was receiving praise, my heart was racing with anxiety. Why was a giant like him paying attention to a low-ranking grunt like me?
"Ah, and I am Park Ju-sung from the Emergency Medicine department at Seoul Catholic Sacred Heart Hospital," the other professor standing beside him introduced himself. Seoul Catholic Sacred Heart Hospital. Another giant university hospital.
"Ah, yes! Hello, Professor!" What is going on? Why are people from these massive hospitals crowding around me? Warning sirens were blaring frantically in my head. This wasn't normal. I felt like a monkey in a zoo. The big shots of Seoul had gathered to gawk at some curious first-year resident who had come up from Busan. Did this look normal to anyone?
"Thanks to your question, we had a very interesting discussion. The fellow from Aseong Hospital who presented earlier is probably being chewed out like a dog by his advisor right about now. Hahaha." Professor Park Ju-sung laughed heartily. I couldn't bring myself to join in on such a brutal joke.
"It's a sharpness that's hard to find in young folks these days. Usually, they just keep their mouths shut in those kinds of settings."
"Indeed. To think such talent was hidden away in Busan. The Cheongjin chief must feel very reassured."
"Who is your advisor? Professor Cheon Eunjeong? She raised her student well."
I had reduced myself to a nodding mannequin, smiling awkwardly. Please. Please just let me go. I'm just a first-year who wants to go home and sleep.
After a lengthy evaluation session, Professor Kim Hyukjae slipped his business card into my pocket. "If you ever have a reason to come up to Seoul, or if you have any questions, feel free to contact me anytime. I'll buy you a meal." With those final words, they finally let me go.
From a distance, Kim Ji-hoon and I watched the aftermath of the disaster. In a corner of the seminar hall, the Aseong Hospital team, who had just been publicly humiliated, was visible. The third-year presenter, pale as a ghost, stood with his head bowed low as his advisor chewed him out with furious intensity. Meanwhile, that same advisor was bowing ninety degrees to an even higher-ranking professor, sweating profusely. One of them, with a grim expression, pulled out his phone and hurriedly dialed a number. Probably the hospital.
I clicked my tongue at the sight. The advisor must have been too busy to properly review the presentation materials. Still, the patient would likely live. Seeing how frantically they were making calls, they were undoubtedly saying something like, "Contact the patient immediately, tell them it's dangerous, and have them come to the ER right now!" In the end, my meddlesome question had saved a life.
As I was lost in my thoughts, Kim Ji-hoon, standing next to me with a near-tearful expression, nudged my arm. "But Hyeon-jae, what are we going to do?"
"About what?"
"Our poster presentation later!"
"What about it? We just stand there and come back."
"No, you idiot!" Kim Ji-hoon punched my chest lightly in frustration. "Do you not understand the situation? Do you know what you just did in there? You've become the hottest topic at this entire conference! The crazy first-year from Busan who demolished Aseong Hospital with cold, hard facts! By now, people have probably memorized your name, my name, and even our poster numbers!"
I snorted at that. "Come on, no way. Just because someone asked a good question doesn't mean people are going to swarm a first-year's poster. The other residents are too busy drinking coffee and shooting the breeze." I offered a perfectly rational and realistic prediction.
And exactly two hours later, I realized, to my bones, just how naive and foolish my prediction had been.
"Fuck." Standing at the entrance of the Crystal Ballroom, I muttered under my breath, unable to believe the sight before my eyes.
I had spent my time quite productively—being pestered by the ghosts into sitting through two more sessions, hiding from Lee Min-jae, and harvesting three eco-bags and a bunch of ballpoint pens from the pharmaceutical booths. Finally, at four o'clock, I arrived at the poster hall with a grim sense of resolve.
Normally, the poster hall should have been empty at this hour. Most people would be exhausted, sprawling on the lobby sofas, or preparing to head into downtown Seoul for evening drinks. But the scene before my eyes looked like an idol fan signing event.
Nearly dozens of doctors were packed tightly into a specific section of the hall, buzzing with excitement. And at the center of that crowd stood two all-too-familiar number plates.
"..." Standing beside me, Kim Ji-hoon's face turned completely pale as he froze.
Within the crowd, all kinds of people—from the professors I had seen in the seminar room earlier, to fellows and senior residents from other hospitals, and even curious junior residents—were staring intently at my poster, engaged in heated discussions.
"Is this the case where they diagnosed an MI from a sore throat?"
"Wow, look at the EKG changes. They caught it beautifully."
"But did a first-year really spot this? Didn't a senior resident tell him?"
"I heard he saw it and made the call himself."
I nudged Kim Ji-hoon's back. "Let's go."
"I can't. I'd rather just die right here."
"Stop bullshitting. We just have to go stand there."
Dragging our heavy feet, we walked into the crowd.