Telehealth Consultations

The doctors were still half-doubtful. While telehealth consultations sounded plausible in theory, they worried about whether it would actually be profitable and, more importantly, how much "protection" they would receive.

For medical staff dealing with sensitive patient groups, legal disputes are one of the most terrifying prospects. Even in accidents where there is virtually no medical negligence, a single incident can be fatal to clinics already struggling to stay afloat.

"Telehealth consultation is not a formal medical examination that issues prescriptions," Lee Yun-hyeok explained. "We will make sure users clearly understand this and have them sign a consent form within the app."

"But if we consult so conservatively, will there really be any demand from the patients' perspective?"

"There is."

Yun-hyeok spoke with absolute certainty.

"There absolutely is. It's only because telemedicine hasn't fully developed in our country yet, but it is widely used in the United States and Japan. They have established twenty-four-hour hotlines as public infrastructure so patients can connect with medical staff for consultations at any time."

In the United States, it is a system called the 24-hour Nurse Hotline, and in Japan, it operates as part of their Maternal and Child Health Handbook system.

Run by insurance companies, hospital networks, state health departments, or the Tokyo Metropolitan Government's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Bureau of Social Welfare and Public Health, these hotlines handle an enormous volume of calls daily.

"Precisely because we lack such a system in Korea, the demand is there. And I believe you all can be the ones to build it."

"But aren't there already similar telemedicine apps out there?" asked the director of the Warm Pediatrics Clinic.

"You are correct."

Those were apps that had emerged during the COVID-19 pandemic.

However, they faced numerous restrictions. First-time consultations were strictly limited to medically underserved areas, quarantined infectious disease patients, seniors aged sixty-five or older, or individuals with disabilities.

"In reality, those apps are stuck managing chronic diseases for returning patients. That is entirely different from our target demographic."

"..."

The doctors fell silent.

They had initially thought the city hall was attempting some bizarre gimmick, but the mayor had clearly done his homework on the market.

"Last year, the Korean Pediatric Association held a press conference and declared the 'abolition' of pediatric clinics," Yun-hyeok noted.

It had been a massive uproar, a stark event that perfectly illustrated the dire struggles of pediatric medicine.

"And right now, in Seongnam, Kwak Women's Hospital is reportedly closing its doors."

This was an even more shocking and symbolic event than the pediatricians' declaration. Kwak Women's Hospital was the nation's top-ranking maternity hospital, having delivered a staggering 179,000 newborns over forty years since 1981.

Despite being a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠large-scale hospital with a rich history and robust infrastructure located in Seongnam—right in the metropolitan area, not some remote rural village—it ultimately suffered from severe financial difficulties in this era of low birth rates, leading to this tragic end.

"Let me be completely honest with you," Yun-hyeok said. "Instead of giving you the compensation you rightfully deserve, I am essentially telling you to work more to earn money."

"..."

"To be frank, a medical fee of 400,000 won for a single natural birth is grossly insufficient. In the UK, under the state-guaranteed National Health Service, patients use maternity hospitals free of charge, but the hospital receives three thousand pounds per delivery."

That was roughly 5.58 million won.

"Isn't that level of compensation only natural? Especially when you consider the risk of medical malpractice, insurance premiums, the cost of maintaining overnight standby staff, and the sheer number of medical personnel and labor hours poured into a single delivery."

"Even before we talk about compensating doctors, there is a structural flaw in how hospital maintenance costs are calculated. So, the correct approach should actually be reforming the medical fee system. And because of that, I..."

Yun-hyeok bit his lip.

Calmly, and with gravity.

An overly exaggerated expression would only look fake.

He just needed to apologize with quiet sincerity.

As a politician.

"I am sorry," Yun-hyeok said. "I must offer my deepest apologies first. From the position of Mayor of Mir City, I cannot undertake grand reforms like restructuring the national insurance fee system. I also do not have a massive budget at my disposal. That is why I had to resort to this method."

"..."

"In return, I make you two promises. First, the city hall will support the medical equipment that needs to be replaced or added at each of your clinics."

By supplying equipment at low costs through a lease-to-own model after purchase, or by subsidizing the purchase costs, the city could expand its medical infrastructure even with a limited budget.

"Second, for the medical consumables commonly used by the clinics represented here, I will personally step in to negotiate bulk purchases and supply them to you."

Negotiation was Yun-hyeok's specialty. A task like this was far easier than dealing with the Beomdol District.

This alone would drastically slash the operational maintenance costs of the clinics, directly boosting their profitability.

"And my second promise is that I will protect you from malicious ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠complaints."

This, too, was an absolutely vital shield.

"Last year, a pediatric clinic in South Chungcheong Province almost went out of business due to a malicious complaint."

A woman had sent her nine-year-old elementary school child to a pediatric clinic alone. The clinic director informed her that they could not treat the child without a guardian present and requested her to visit.

However, claiming she was too busy with work to go, she took the child to a different clinic after work. Upon realizing her child had a high fever, she flew into a rage.

She then filed a complaint with the local public health center, accusing the first clinic of refusing treatment.

The health center announced administrative guidance, claiming there was no explicit clause banning the treatment of minors under fourteen alone. The clinic argued that there were actual legal precedents where doctors held liability for treating minors without guardians, but their pleas fell on deaf ears. Overwhelmed by disillusionment, the director declared they were closing the clinic.

"Since there were only two pediatric clinics in that entire county, the situation became so critical that the county governor had to personally visit and apologize to resolve it. I intend to protect you before things ever escalate to that point."

Out of every hundred patients and guardians who visit a clinic, ninety-eight are kind, but there are always one or two who make life miserable.

"So please, do not lose heart over these harsh conditions. Stand with me, and let us protect Mir City's medical infrastructure together."

Ye Seong-eun, the director of Yesung Obstetrics and Gynecology, pasted the promotional sticker on the clinic entrance and the front counter.

"Good morning, Director."

Nurse Kim at the counter was watching a video on her smartphone before opening.

It was a snippet from Lee Yun-hyeok's "Mir Childcare 365 - Medical Service Guide," which had been broadcast live the previous evening.

"I never had any interest in politics, but seeing things like this happen is so fascinating. This man is amazing," Nurse Kim said.

"Who did you vote for in the last by-election?" Director Ye Seong-eun asked playfully.

"I voted for Hong Gi-beom..."

"To be honest, so did I... I was worried because our current mayor is so young."

The two shared a soft chuckle.

Had Hong Gi-beom been elected, they wouldn't have dreamed of a situation like this.

8:48 AM.

Although the clinic hadn't opened yet, Director Ye Seong-eun had already picked up and completed two remote consultation calls on her way to work.

One was from a pregnant woman at seven weeks who asked, "My morning sickness suddenly disappeared. Is that okay?"

Ye had reassured her that it could happen temporarily even if nothing was wrong, advising her to just come in for her scheduled appointment.

The second call was from a twenty-one-year-old college student worried about a possible pregnancy due to irregular menstruation. After the consultation, Ye advised her to use an early-detection pregnancy test.

"Did you do some last night too?"

"I did quite a few last night. Earned a hundred and thirty thousand won."

"Whoa..."

Nurse Kim gasped, impressed by the surprisingly decent earnings.

"You could practically make a living just doing that."

Just as she said that, the broadcast coincidentally played the following announcement:

"He really thought of everything."

"Right? He's not just letting us take the easy way out."

"And..." Nurse Kim lowered her voice slightly. "You know that person who posted a call-out post targeting us on the mom cafe?"

"The one who accused us of just trying to make money when we suggested a blood test?"

"Yes. Well, she deleted her post this morning!"

Nurse Kim burst into giggles.

This was because Mir City had drawn its sword to directly protect local pediatric and OB-GYN clinics at the administrative level.

The city's policy was to directly investigate the truth and actively mediate if any posts aimed at slandering, insulting, or obstructing the business of designated public partner medical institutions were discovered.

And an ordinance had been enacted stating that the city hall would provide two-way legal support for disputes between medical institutions and citizens.

In truth, it was a neutral ordinance. It also meant that if there was clear medical negligence, the city would support the patient's lawsuit.

Conversely, however, it meant the city would support medical institutions in pursuing criminal charges against malicious call-out posts, false rumors, defamation, and business obstruction on mom cafes.

"That must be why she deleted her post! It's so satisfying!"

Watching the thoroughly delighted Nurse Kim, Director Ye Seong-eun chuckled and changed the subject.

"We need to buy new masks, nitrile gloves, and alcohol swabs, right?"

"Yes."

"Don't buy them yourself. Submit a purchase request to the city hall. They said they'll negotiate wholesale prices through bulk purchasing by grouping sixteen OB-GYN clinics together."

"I already did."

"Really?"

"We can do it right through the app. I requested ultrasound gel too."

"Good job. And..."

Bzzzz!

Just then, another consultation call buzzed on Director Ye's smartphone.

The consultation fee set by the patient was the minimum of five thousand won. The question was rather adorable.

Director Ye Seong-eun let out a soft laugh.

Honestly speaking, this telehealth consultation system was quite fun, even setting aside the money.

Just as she was about to reply telling her to enjoy her meal—

Ding!

The patient booked for the 9:00 AM appointment arrived. The director immediately began her physical examination, and the pasta call was snatched up by another doctor.

Compared to the administrative moves Lee Yun-hyeok had shown in Mir City so far, there was one major difference this time.

The level of direct impact felt by ordinary citizens was on a completely different scale.

Bringing the trio of engineers to Durim-myeon would take time to grow into a major company, so citizens didn't feel the immediate impact.

The consolidation of the Beomdol District was also confined to a limited area of about two hundred households, so the general public paid little attention.

But this time...

Amidst the overwhelming praise and glowing reviews, a strange undercurrent began to spread around Mir City.

"We, the Yongin Association of Obstetricians and Gynecologists, strongly urge Yongin City Hall to swiftly adopt Mir Childcare 365, currently operating in Mir City!"

"I heard pediatricians and OB-GYNs in Mir City are making a killing through that app!"

"In Mir City, the city hall directly handles troublesome patients for pediatricians and OB-GYNs!"

"In Mir City, the city hall does bulk purchasing for pediatric and OB-GYN consumables! They got a thirty percent discount on alcohol swabs!"

Prompted by this, doctors from neighboring clinics began demanding to know what their own mayors were doing.

And finally...

A policy cooperation proposal was submitted. The senders were the Gyeonggi Medical Association, the President of the Gyeonggi Pediatric Association, and the Gyeonggi Association of Obstetricians and Gynecologists under a joint signature.

And the recipient was...

"Governor."

Receiving the document from his chief of staff, the Governor of Gyeonggi Province, Han Gi-jeong, groaned softly and clutched his head.

"What on earth is this guy doing...? Is he the Mayor of Mir City, or is he the Governor of Gyeonggi Province?"

That bastard was already running around far beyond the scope of a local government leader.

He was personally meeting with ministers of central government departments to sign MOUs, and even making joint policy announcements with Seongnam City.

And now, he had created this insane app, stirring up neighboring cities like a hornet's nest. The entire medical association was in shock, and doctors were pouring petitions into their own city halls and the Gyeonggi Provincial Office, demanding to know why they couldn't have what Mir City had.

"It does seem highly effective," the chief of staff remarked. "Would it be wise to expand this to the provincial level?"

"..."

Governor Han Gi-jeong was deeply conflicted.

Expanding this to a province-wide policy would not only be an administrative burden but also a massive political setback for him.

After all, the province had been pushing its own childbirth and childcare policies all this time.

Things like maternity taxis, expanded childcare services, and 500,000 won vouchers for postpartum care centers.

Yet, the public's reaction to those had been lukewarm at best, while they were absolutely wild for Mir Childcare 365.

If Mir Childcare 365 were to expand to the entire Gyeonggi Province at this point, the policies the governor himself had championed for over three years would be completely overshadowed and forgotten.

And Lee Yun-hyeok would rise to become a national-level politician.

Governor Han Gi-jeong feared exactly that.