“You’re always exposing your belly trying to show off. Do you have nine lives, big brother? If you end up dying, how are we supposed to make a living? Aish, really. I was so shocked. I should get my heart checked while I’m here. I wonder who I should talk to for that, huh?”
Now that he looked more closely, it wasn’t really a conversation but rather a one-sided monologue. The man who had been doing all the talking sensed Geun-yeong’s presence, raised his head and asked:
“You here to see our big brother?”
Geun-yeong, who was standing awkwardly at the foot of the bed, slowly nodded. The man sitting on the folding bed next to the hospital bed made a grunting sound as he lifted his buttocks and moved inward by one space. If you’re here to see big brother, come over here.
Geun-yeong moved his somehow stiff-feeling legs into the space between the hospital bed and the folding bed.
“Hello…”
He greeted them first.
The man gave no response. He just stared at Geun-yeong’s face after the greeting.
Geun-yeong waited. He wasn’t waiting for a proper response to the greeting he had initiated. He was waiting to see if any sign of recognition would appear on the face of the man who was looking at his face. For example, something like remembering something.
They made eye contact like that, and about 5 seconds passed. The air in the hospital room became quite awkward. The man sitting on the bed asked:
“Did you forget what you were going to say?”
Though it was suddenly informal speech, it was the most kind-hearted thing he could say. The doctor who had greeted him but couldn’t continue speaking and was just standing there staring at his face seemed slightly unwell.
“Really, big brother. You should speak respectfully to the doctor.”
The man sitting behind Geun-yeong said quietly, as if admonishing.
And Geun-yeong realized that this man, whose expression hadn’t changed at all, didn’t remember him. That could happen. It was a very long time ago. It would be a lie to say he wasn’t disappointed, but he wasn’t surprised. If the man didn’t remember him, he could help him remember.
“I’m… Jang Saetbyeol.”
From behind Geun-yeong came an admiring murmur: “Wow, our doctor has such a sparkling name.” And now, on the face of the man who had shown nothing that could be called an expression until now, a sneer appeared. Raising just the corner of his mouth in a smirk, he said:
“Can’t reveal your real name, I guess? Then you should have taken off your name tag.”
Geun-yeong, who had an “oh no” moment, raised his hand to cover his name tag. But it was too late. The man had seen the name tag, and after hearing the man’s words, the other man lifted his buttocks, stretched out his neck, and looking up at Geun-yeong’s name tag and face, started talking:
“Ah, it was a nickname? Do doctors these days work with nicknames like baseball pitchers in clubs? No wonder, I thought it was strange for a grown man doctor to be named Saetbyeol.”
While the man sitting on the folding bed was talking in a low, husky, deep voice, the man lying on the bed erased the sneer from his face. And he started glaring with a face full of distrust.
If he saw the name tag, he would have also seen the university name written on it, and if so, he would know that Geun-yeong was not a doctor but a clinical student. The glaring eyes were frightening. But Geun-yeong didn’t back down. In the man’s face, he searched for traces of the boy imprinted in his memory. It wasn’t easy.
‘Saetbyeol, eat this.’
‘Wow! Chocolate!’
On the table in the director’s room, there was a glass jar filled with individually wrapped chocolates. The chocolates that everyone had looked at through the window, salivating. The boy, that hyung, who somehow got them and handed them over, his face was never scary. Far from scary, it was as soft and sweet as the taste of the chocolate he had last eaten then. That’s the kind of face it was.
Thinking about the face he had longed to see and the chocolate that had been so sweet and delicious, somehow his eyes felt hot. There was something welling up inside. To hold it back, Geun-yeong had to frown a little.
“If you have something to say, say it. Doctor Jang Saetbyeol.”
The man, knowing that he wasn’t Jang Saetbyeol and also that he wasn’t a doctor, was mocking him with malicious words. The man sitting behind Geun-yeong said, “Ah, big brother, I told you to speak respectfully,” rebuking him.
Geun-yeong was angry. He clearly remembered the man’s name, approximate age, face from boyhood, and the things he had done and said to him. He had lived until now because of those memories. He had endured all kinds of painful things. But the very person who should remember didn’t remember him at all.
‘See you again, Saetbyeol.’
Geun-yeong felt like taking revenge on the man who had broken the promise made with linked fingers and erased him from his memory. He wanted him to know his suffering. He wanted him to feel sorry for him. He wanted him to suffer like himself.
“I’m an orphan, and I was adopted when I was eight years old.”
The eyes of the man who had been glaring with contempt suddenly grew noticeably larger. Seeing the change in the man’s expression, Geun-yeong continued to speak.
“Around that time, I developed diabetes. Every day, I had to prick my fingers to measure my blood sugar and get insulin injections in my stomach. Even now, I wear a machine on my forearm that measures my blood sugar 24 hours a day, and on my stomach, I wear an insulin pump. And—”
Geun-yeong, who was about to say that he had spread his legs under his adoptive father because he wanted to live like that, because of you, couldn’t continue. To make the man feel sorry for him, he definitely needed to say those words, but they wouldn’t easily come out.
“And what?”
But rather, it was the man who urged Geun-yeong, who was just opening his mouth unable to speak. Tell me, he said. There was no hint in the man’s now smooth expression that he had remembered anything.
Why… just why…
Geun-yeong couldn’t understand why he couldn’t remember. He had told him about the diabetes, about being adopted at eight years old. He had even revealed the name he was called back then, overcoming his embarrassment. It’s strange to remember the other person’s name and age so clearly like he did, but still, he thought the man would remember at least vaguely. He thought the man might remember a child who caused a commotion because his blood sugar came out at 300 during a routine health check done as part of community service. Above all, it wasn’t even a common name.
“Don’t you… remember me?”
“I do remember.”
Surprised by the bluntly and dryly uttered words, Geun-yeong quickly inhaled and almost bit his tongue. He felt his heart racing rapidly. His hands tingled. He tightly clenched his fist that had been hanging by his side along his clinical gown. But then.
“The stupid clinical student who dropped his notebook and zoned out earlier.”
Ah…
Feeling utterly deflated, Geun-yeong unclenched his hand. He had nothing to say. As he stood there unable to respond because he had nothing to say, the man, who had put on a sneer again, asked:
“What are you trying to do now? Are you testing my memory or something? What, does getting a hole in your stomach cause shock that leads to something like dementia? Doctor Jang Saetbyeol with diabetes?”
From behind Geun-yeong came the sound of hearty laughter. But louder than that sound, each word the man spoke resonated more loudly. Through the mockery that was ringing in his head, he heard murmurs mixed in: “Why reveal your chronic disease while hiding your name? Is this the latest trend in medical school training?” “Right. It’s strange, big brother. But you should still speak respectfully to someone who will become a doctor in the future,” and so on, with conversations that could be either mocking or sincere.
Ji Geun-yeong couldn’t remember what he said after that, how he ended the conversation, or how he left the hospital room. When he came to his senses, he was in the middle of the corridor in front of the station, and Woo Donghwa was shaking his shoulder and shouting in a hushed, metallic voice.
“Hey, Ji Geun-yeong! Snap out of it, man! What’s wrong? Are you dizzy? Is it low blood sugar? Or high blood sugar? Huh? Is that it?”
Why was Woo Donghwa…
He didn’t know why Woo Donghwa was suddenly in front of him. How he had gotten here. Whether he had walked through the hallway. He couldn’t remember anything. Ji Geun-yeong, who could remember everything, couldn’t recall what had happened just minutes or seconds ago.
That’s how confused his tangled mind was.
* * *
The afternoon schedule was a class based on what they had practiced in the morning. After lunch, all the medical students, including Ji Geun-yeong and Woo Donghwa, moved from the main building where the wards were located to the annex building where the outpatient clinics were and gathered in the basement lecture hall.
The clinical professor standing on the podium was wearing a doctor’s gown but was explaining an actual case of a hospitalized patient to these still fresh-faced fledglings.
“Female, 22 years old. Moon face, Buffalo hump, amenorrhea, etc., suspected Cushing syndrome based on physical appearance, currently being worked up.”
Right after lunch, it was the time when food coma was at its worst. And to make matters worse, it was about endocrine disorders. Even with concentration, the sounds that couldn’t be understood at once poured into their drowsy minds. Most of the students had expressions as if their brains were cramping, but nevertheless, their eyes, which they were trying to keep wide open, were following the professor continuously. Because if they made a bad impression on the clinical professor, it would be difficult to get an internship after graduation.
“On day 5 of the High dose Dexa suppression test, there are four diseases that can be diagnosed according to the cortisol level. First—”
However, one person among them wasn’t looking at the professor. Nor was he looking at the TV screen where the case was displayed. He was staring at the empty whiteboard in front with a blank expression.
“Ji Geun-yeong.”
“…”
Woo Donghwa elbowed Geun-yeong, who hadn’t heard the professor’s call. Looking at Geun-yeong, who had shown an openly startled expression, the professor, with a face that suggested he would have kicked him out into the hallway immediately if he weren’t Professor Ji Seokhun’s son, asked:
“The four diseases that can be diagnosed with the High dose dexa suppression test, name them.”
The students’ brows simultaneously furrowed. What kind of mean intention was behind asking something he hadn’t taught yet? Everyone’s gaze converged on Geun-yeong, who had become the target of this Nolbu-like mentality—giving someone just a ladle and telling them to bring rice from the stream. Feeling sorry for having been distracted during class, Geun-yeong expressed his apology with his face and stood up.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
