Gihwan stared at Hayul in shock. Taeho was shaken as well, but he spoke in a calm voice.
“Mr. Gihwan. Hold Hayul and go inside for now. The child might be traumatized.”
“But first aid…”
“I can do it alone. Hayul is more important.”
“Understood.”
Gihwan picked Hayul up.
“Hayul, let’s go inside with Uncle.”
Hayul neither resisted nor refused. He simply remained still.
As Gihwan carried Hayul into the clinic, Taeho immediately switched into expert mode. He put his personal feelings aside and focused solely on his judgment as a doctor.
Blood pressure: 80/50. Pulse: 130 beats per minute, irregular.
Her skin was cold and clammy, and her lips showed cyanosis.
Glasgow Coma Scale: 12.
Her airway was secured, and although her breathing was shallow, she was breathing spontaneously.
He judged that she was suffering from severe dehydration, electrolyte imbalance, and a serious inflammatory response in the abdomen.
Taeho quickly prepared the emergency kit. His movements were even faster and more precise than usual.
He needed to establish intravenous access with an 18-gauge needle.
But when he examined the woman’s hand, he found that the blood vessels were barely visible due to severe dehydration. He first wrapped a tourniquet around her arm and checked the inner elbow.
‘Too thin!’
Taeho shook his head as he examined the veins on the back of her hand. The superficial veins had collapsed from dehydration, making it dangerous to insert the needle there.
He shifted his gaze to the inner elbow. When he focused precisely with Bio Vision, the median cubital vein, hidden deep beneath the biceps brachii, came clearly into view.
‘Right here.’
As the vessel swelled under the pressure of the tourniquet, the position seen through Bio Vision precisely matched the slight elevation on the actual surface of the skin. The vessel was approximately 4 millimeters in diameter and lay about 2.5 millimeters beneath the skin’s surface.
The moment the needle tip pierced the skin, Taeho felt slight resistance.
He adjusted the angle of his wrist by the smallest degree. The needle was almost touching the vessel wall.
Just a little farther…
Pop.
The moment the resistance suddenly vanished, Taeho knew that the needle had entered the vessel lumen precisely.
At that instant, dark red blood surged up through the needle’s hub.
The first drop was a deep reddish-brown.
The distinctive color of venous blood.
He advanced the plastic catheter connected to the needle into the vessel. He could feel it sliding smoothly beneath his fingertips. When he withdrew the needle, dark red blood continued to flow slowly from the tip of the catheter. He swiftly connected the IV set.
As soon as the normal saline was connected, clear fluid began flowing through the catheter and into the vessel.
‘That did it.’
Taeho adjusted the IV flow rate, a satisfied expression appearing on his face.
The woman’s blood pressure began to rise gradually.
85/55…
90/60…
The first sign that her circulation was improving.
Next, he attached ECG pads to the woman’s chest. Her heart rate appeared on the monitor.
Heart rate: 128 beats per minute.
Tachycardic, but with a normal rhythm.
He wrapped the blood pressure cuff around her arm and began an automatic measurement. He also connected an oxygen saturation sensor to her finger.
Oxygen saturation: 94%.
Taeho connected a nasal cannula to the oxygen tank and inserted it into the woman’s nose.
Her oxygen saturation soon rose to 97%.
“Uuugh…”
As her consciousness gradually returned, the woman let out a faint groan. She clutched her abdomen.
Abdominal tenderness.
Taeho put on gloves and carefully palpated her abdomen. Severe tenderness was felt in the right lower quadrant. Rebound tenderness was also positive. Tenderness this severe indicated a fairly serious condition.
Taeho prepared 0.3 milligrams of buprenorphine for an intramuscular injection. He needed to control her pain in order to accurately assess her condition.
After he administered the injection, the expression of pain on the patient’s face gradually eased.
About fifteen minutes later, the woman’s eyelids began to tremble slowly.
“Where… am I?”
Her voice was hoarse.
“This is Geumsan Clinic.”
“Did I collapse?”
“We found you in front of the clinic. Your condition is stable now, so don’t worry.”
Taeho checked the readings on the monitor.
Blood pressure: 95/60. Pulse: 105 beats per minute. Oxygen saturation: 98%.
She had stabilized considerably.
“…Where’s Hayul?”
The woman’s voice trembled.
Taeho’s expression unconsciously turned cold.
“What is your relationship with Hayul?”
He could guess their relationship since Hayul had called her “Mom,” but he wanted to hear the exact answer from her own lips.
“My name is Jeong Miyeong. I’m Hayul’s mother.”
“Then why didn’t you contact him or come looking for him all this time?”
Taeho wanted to tell her that abandoning a child was a crime, but he exercised restraint.
“I was going to… I was going to come back soon, but I was in a situation where I couldn’t.”
“If that was the case, you should have left the child in the care of a safe facility. The fact that you were in a situation where you couldn’t come…”
Taeho stopped speaking.
He examined Jeong Miyeong’s pale face and extremely emaciated body once more.
Severe malnutrition. Chronic inflammatory response.
“Was it because of an illness?”
Jeong Miyeong turned her head away. Instead of an answer, the tears running down her face said everything.
“I was trying to earn money for treatment. Hayul’s father had already passed away in an accident. I couldn’t raise the child by myself and pay the hospital bills, too.”
Jeong Miyeong wiped her tears with the back of her hand.
“At first, I really thought it would only be for a month or two. I was going to earn money, get treated, and come back to Hayul, but…”
“But you didn’t contact him for eighteen months. Didn’t you think about how much it would hurt the child to wait for his mother?”
“I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry.”
Jeong Miyeong began to sob.
“Then why did you come now?”
“…I wanted to see Hayul’s face just once before I died.”
Jeong Miyeong’s voice grew even quieter.
“The hospital said three months. Six months at most. So, for the last time…”
“The last time?”
“I was diagnosed at a hospital three years ago. They said it was end-stage Crohn’s disease. They said surgery wasn’t possible, either.”
“Have you ever seen the exact diagnostic report? Which hospital diagnosed you?”
“I received diagnoses from several hospitals. They all said the same thing.”
Jeong Miyeong fumbled through her bag with trembling hands.
“Here.”
Taeho accepted the documents she handed him. There were diagnostic reports from several hospitals, along with medical opinions.
Silence fell as Taeho examined the documents one by one.
‘Suspected Crohn’s disease, ulcerative lesions observed on colonoscopy.’
‘Crohn’s disease, terminal ileum involvement.’
‘Severe Crohn’s disease, surgery not indicated.’
Crohn’s disease was a chronic inflammatory bowel disease that could occur anywhere along the digestive tract, from the mouth to the anus.
‘But something’s strange…’
Taeho activated Bio Vision once more.
At that moment, Rema’s voice rang out.
—Would you like to use Precision Diagnostic Bio Vision?
—Warning: High energy consumption.
Y/N
‘All right. Let’s scan her again with Precision Diagnostic Bio Vision.’
—Precision diagnostic protocol activated.
Jeong Miyeong’s entire body appeared in his field of vision like a transparent hologram.
When Taeho focused his gaze on Jeong Miyeong’s abdomen, her organs began to separate into distinct layers.
If it was Crohn’s disease, characteristic patterns of inflammation should appear in the small and large intestines. These included deep ulcers penetrating the entire intestinal wall, irregularly distributed inflammation, and enlarged mesenteric lymph nodes.
But when he examined Jeong Miyeong’s intestines in detail, something was wrong.
‘There’s definitely inflammation, but the pattern is different.’
The typical cobblestone appearance of Crohn’s disease was nowhere to be seen. Instead, shallow ulcers were distributed evenly throughout the entire intestine.
When Taeho widened Bio Vision’s focus, he discovered even more anomalies.
Several small aphthous ulcers were visible inside Jeong Miyeong’s mouth. Oral ulcers could also occur with Crohn’s disease, but the shape and distribution of these ulcers were different.
There was also a subtle inflammatory response in the conjunctiva of her eyes. And…
‘What is this?’
Signs of microscopic vasculitis were detected deep within Jeong Miyeong’s skin. Inflammatory cells had gathered around the small blood vessels.
As Taeho concentrated further, the activation pattern of Jeong Miyeong’s immune system became clear.
Her lymph nodes were mildly swollen throughout her body. Not only the mesenteric lymph nodes, but also the cervical, axillary, and inguinal lymph nodes were all responding.
And the most important discovery was the change in the walls of her blood vessels.
‘This is a pattern associated with HLA-B51.’
A specific inflammatory response was visible along the inner walls of Jeong Miyeong’s blood vessels. It was characteristic of systemic vasculitis, something distinct from simple inflammatory bowel disease.
Bio Vision detected one more important detail: an immune response pattern that allowed it to estimate Jeong Miyeong’s HLA type.
‘There’s a high probability she’s HLA-B51 positive. And this pattern of vasculitis, the oral ulcers, the ocular inflammation… It has to be…’
Just as he reached that thought, he felt a headache like an awl piercing through his skull, and Precision Diagnostic Bio Vision abruptly shut down.
Taeho frowned. The headache seemed to be a backlash caused by using Precision Diagnostic Bio Vision.
“Ms. Jeong Miyeong. I think we need to reconsider your diagnosis.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean it could be another disease.”
“But I’ve already received the results from several hospitals.”
“Let’s run another diagnosis here. It’s too early to give up.”
There was certainty in Taeho’s voice.
An emotion called hope rose in Jeong Miyeong’s face. Her eyes glistened with tears for a moment before she cautiously opened her mouth.
“I… I’m sorry, but could I see Hayul for a little while? I miss him so much.”
Jeong Miyeong pleaded desperately.
Taeho let out a brief sigh before speaking.
“It’s too late tonight. You can see him in the morning.”
***
Hayul stood by the door, staring blankly at his mother.
To a six-year-old child, the time had been as long as eternity.
The mother in his memories had gradually grown blurry, and Taeho and Gihwan had filled the space she left behind.
Jeong Miyeong spoke in a trembling voice.
“Hayul. It’s Mom. You remember me, don’t you?”
Hayul slowly turned his head. He took his gaze off Jeong Miyeong and suddenly ran toward Taeho.
“Uncle!”
Hayul clung to Taeho’s leg and buried his face against him.
Taeho was flustered. He had not expected Hayul to react this way.
“Hayul?”
Gihwan watched the situation with a startled expression. Jeong Miyeong was even more shocked.
“Hayul. It’s Mom. Mom’s right here.”
Jeong Miyeong tried to sit up in bed, but she squeezed her eyes shut and lay back down, apparently dizzy. Instead, she held out her hand and called to the child.
“My Hayul. Will you come to Mommy?”
But Hayul did not lift his head from Taeho’s arms. If anything, he clung even more tightly.
“Hayul, it’s your mother.”
Taeho spoke to him, but Hayul shook his head.
“I don’t like her.”
Hayul’s small voice rang out clearly.
Jeong Miyeong’s face turned pale.
“Hayul. Why? Why don’t you like Mommy?”
“…”
Hayul gripped the collar of Taeho’s clothes tightly and squeezed his eyes shut.
“Hayul, please look at Mommy.”
Jeong Miyeong’s voice trembled.
But Hayul kept his eyes closed. He did not want to see her.
“Hayul. Mommy… Mommy’s sorry. I’m really sorry. Mommy did something wrong…”
Jeong Miyeong’s voice grew louder. A desperate cry burst from her. She had never imagined that the reunion she had longed for would turn out like this.
Taeho tried to soothe Hayul, but the child continued to keep his eyes tightly shut.
“Hayul, it’s all right. Don’t be afraid.”
Taeho sighed and spoke firmly.
“Ms. Jeong Miyeong. I don’t think this is the right time.”
“But…”
“The child is in shock. Pushing yourself too hard could also make your condition worse.”
“I… I came too late, didn’t I? Hayul has forgotten me, hasn’t he?”
“He hasn’t forgotten you. He just needs time. Don’t rush him.”
Taeho glanced at Gihwan.
“Mr. Gihwan, take Hayul upstairs.”
“Hayul, let’s go upstairs with Uncle Owl.”
When Gihwan spoke gently, Hayul nodded. But he still did not look toward Jeong Miyeong.
Gihwan picked Hayul up. The child buried his face in Gihwan’s shoulder.
“Everything will be all right, Hayul.”
Gihwan whispered.
When the emergency room door closed, only Jeong Miyeong’s sobbing remained.
“What am I supposed to do now?”
He might be able to treat her medically, but healing a wounded heart was an entirely different matter.
“You need time. Both you and Hayul.”
Jeong Miyeong lowered her head.