Chapter 239
Dongjin spoke with a face that looked like it might crumble at any moment. As I waited for him here, I was convinced something terrible had happened to him—yet part of me desperately wanted to believe it was nothing at all. But his reaction dragged even me into despair.
"Ha... Just sit on this bench for now."
"Where are you going?"
I pointed to the coffee vending machine off to the side. It seemed like this was going to be a long story, and we couldn't just stand around in the cold chatting idly.
I handed him the coffee I'd gotten from the machine, and Dongjin gave a faint smile, murmuring his thanks.
"Now talk."
Dongjin's hands were trembling. I couldn't tell if it was from the cold or his mental state. I stared at his shaking fingertips, then pulled the leather gloves from my coat pocket and thrust them at him.
"...It's not the cold."
I'd hoped it was just the chill. I didn't want to think his agitation was so intense it was making his hands shake like this. After a moment's thought, I slipped the gloves back into my pocket.
"Didn't you say the surgery went perfectly? That day, December 31st last year. You said the section chief did an amazing job and recovery would be smooth."
"Right. The surgery ended without issues. Recovery was going fine too—the patient woke up two days later."
"So it wasn't that he didn't wake up after surgery—he woke up, then slipped into a vegetative state?"
Dongjin nodded heavily. I didn't think he was deliberately simplifying for my sake, but getting only yes-or-no answers like this would make it hard to grasp the full picture even after hours of talk.
"Tell me from start to finish. You said the surgery was fine, so start from after that."
"Ha, got it."
Dongjin frowned, pressing his temples as if trying to dredge up every detail from memory. A long pause later, he finally spoke, slowly.
"During recovery, the patient showed signs of meningitis. We ran a spinal tap, serum tests, the works—and it pointed to bacterial meningitis. Just to be safe, we cultured for bacteria and started empirical antibiotics. We were extra careful with the antibiotics. We knew the patient had anaphylaxis to beta-lactams, so the section chief had specifically ordered moxifloxacin instead of cephalosporins. Ah... Does that make sense?"
"No, I get the gist. There's a common antibiotic he's allergic to, so you deliberately used a different one instead of the usual."
"Exactly. We proceeded with utmost caution, double-checking everything. The culture confirmed bacterial meningitis, and we kept treating accordingly."
"Then?"
"One day, a call came from the patient's room. He was complaining of chest pain, his airways swelling up. I rushed over—full anaphylactic shock."
Dongjin pressed his forehead, eyes squeezed shut as if reliving it vividly.
"We weren't slow to react. Intubated right away, started CPR. Called the section chief... Even then, I couldn't figure out why shock had hit out of nowhere. We did CPR for nearly twenty minutes, rotating hands. While we were at it, the section chief checked the chart."
"Then?"
"I was by the bedside, prepped to switch hands, when the section chief suddenly rushed over and started screaming at me. 'Why the hell did you order cephalosporins? I told you moxifloxacin, not that!'"
"...The antibiotic you mentioned earlier? The one you switched because of the anaphylaxis risk."
Dongjin nodded. His throat tightened as he continued.
"I never ordered cephalosporins. Never! No, hold on—I'll explain that later. Anyway, we realized it was anaphylaxis, so we jabbed epinephrine into his thigh... We did everything, but there was brain damage."
"So he's vegetative now?"
"...Yeah."
"And they're pinning the shock that hit Seol Hyeongseok on you because you supposedly ordered the cephalosporins—even though you never did."
"Right."
I was at a loss for words. In my previous life, the surgery itself had been the problem, so I'd thought fixing that would be enough this time. But even with a flawless surgery, disaster struck. Unless someone was hell-bent on using Seol Hyeongseok to put Dongjin in peril right at this moment—could this really happen otherwise? Even after eliminating the section chief who'd tried to force a proxy surgery on him before?
"What the hell was the nurse doing? She must've known about the anaphylaxis too. And she still followed the order?"
"That's what's absurd. Even if I had ordered it—which I didn't—she should've confirmed with me. 'Is this really your order?' If she couldn't ask me for some reason, she should've checked with someone else."
"What does the nurse say?"
"She thought following the doctor's order was right. Final call and responsibility are the doctor's, so even if it's wrong, just execute it. She'd gotten chewed out before for questioning one."
The nurse's stance wasn't incomprehensible. The asymmetry between nurses and doctors was a entrenched medical hierarchy, and pushback from nurses was often seen as insubordination. Doctor-nurse relations weren't supposed to be top-down, but... Still, how could anyone follow a flawed order when a patient's life hung in the balance, just because they'd been scolded before?
"Witnesses? When you supposedly gave that order, was the nurse the only one in the room?"
"No one else."
"You're sure?"
"Positive."
"Haa... You really never gave that order, right?"
"You're doubting me too? I told you I didn't!"
Dongjin snapped, flustered despite himself. But rather than anger, I felt relief at the text hovering above his head.
"You know I wouldn't."
I placed a hand on his shoulder to calm him. Dongjin flinched like a kid caught misbehaving, then bowed his head and rubbed his dry face.
"...Sorry. God, I don't know why I'm snapping at you of all people. Sorry."
"It's fine. I just wanted to confirm. Not that I don't trust you."
"Thanks..."
"So, what happened next? What did you say?"
Dongjin rummaged in his pocket and asked if I had a cigarette. I wanted his answer ASAP, but I understood his hesitation. I handed him one, and he lit up, continuing as smoke curled from his lips.
"Of course I denied it. Never gave that order. Told the nurse to confirm if she'd really heard it from me—the attending physician—and how I could've forgotten the anaphylaxis."
"Hold on. You're the attending?"
"Yeah. Thought it'd go to the director's son, but the section chief assigned me. Patient had warmed up to me, so with major surgery ahead, it made sense for me to handle the mental prep too."
"...And the nurse?"
"Said I'm misremembering. Maybe I meant no cephalosporins but was so busy I said the opposite. Insists she followed my words exactly."
"Is it in the records?"
Dongjin bit his lip, then nodded slowly.
"Chart says I ordered it. But I absolutely didn't. No way."
"What do you think happened? Communication glitch?"
Dongjin pondered before answering.
"Maybe the nurse misheard and is pinning it on me to cover. VIP patient—she must've been terrified. But now she's stirring things up, claiming I'm shifting blame onto her."
My ability detects what the speaker believes is true or false. So Dongjin might be wrong about his memory, per the nurse. But that's testable. I could check the nurse directly. If she shows [TRUTH] too, it's a miscommunication—either Dongjin misspoke or she misheard. If [LIE], then she's dodging responsibility by framing him.
Either way, I need to meet her.
"Does the patient's family know all this?"
"Yeah. Attending's been swapped out already... Family's threatening to sue me."
"Just you, not the nurse?"
"They think the nurse's side is my fault too. They're pressuring the hospital to fire her for not speaking up, but..."
A promising young son suddenly vegetative—any parent would lose it. Easier to vent on the attending than the nurse.
I got the picture. Watching Dongjin light his third cigarette in silence, a vague image crystallized in my mind.
In my past life, the previous section chief had ruined Dongjin by forcing the proxy surgery. But even without that risk factor, this happened. What if he wasn't the true threat? What if someone else was always gunning for Dongjin, and the section chief was just an accomplice or pawn?
That would explain everything.