The surgical preparations must have already been finished, because Nurse Casey and another nurse were waiting quietly.
Though no matter how he looked at it, he could not tell what, exactly, had been prepared.
Just as that began to strike him as strange—
Rattle.
The door opened, and Dr. Quentin entered with two other people.
One was an elderly woman holding her wrist, and the other was a volunteer supporting her.
With a genial smile, Dr. Quentin guided the patient to the operating table.
“Please tell her to lie down here and place her hand this way. The operation will take about thirty minutes, and it’s a simple procedure, so please tell her not to worry too much.”
“Yes. This way, please.”
The volunteer interpreted and guided the patient to the operating table.
Then the nurses began helping with the surgical preparations.
In the meantime, Dr. Quentin approached Taesu and asked,
“There’s almost nothing here, isn’t there?”
“Th-that does seem to be the case.”
“You don’t think we’d perform vertebral nerve (spinal nerve) surgery or cerebrovascular (cerebral blood vessel) surgery in an environment like this, do you? That would be absurd.”
“It would be difficult.”
When Taesu agreed, Dr. Quentin smiled gently and continued.
“That’s why we mainly perform simple procedures here.”
“I see. Then that patient is…?”
“Have you heard of carpal tunnel syndrome?”
At his question, Taesu’s eyes glinted slightly.
“Yes. Carpal tunnel syndrome.”
“That’s a relief. As expected, it’s easier to approach things by learning and practicing diseases you already know.”
“But rehabilitative therapy is usually recommended quite often, isn’t it?”
When Taesu cautiously brought up what he knew and asked, Dr. Quentin nodded broadly.
“In most cases, yes. But if it becomes too severe, sensation decreases, so surgery is better.”
“Ah, I see.”
“We’ll proceed by expanding the median nerve that has been compressed within the carpal tunnel.”
As Dr. Quentin gave a brief briefing, Taesu was busy committing it all to memory.
“The median nerve, you said.”
“We’ll perform the surgery together, and the difficulty is on the lower side. And…”
Dr. Quentin’s explanation was about to continue when—
“We’re ready.”
The nurse’s voice rang out.
At the same time, Dr. Quentin immediately changed course.
“We’ll discuss the details during the operation.”
“I’ll be in your care.”
“That attitude of yours is excellent. Then let’s get ready.”
Dr. Quentin spoke energetically and turned toward the operating table.
Taesu also moved, carrying excitement and enthusiasm for a new surgery.
The patient was lying on the operating table, her arm stretched out long. A small curtain had been placed in the middle to block her view.
Judging by the position of the surgical drape, the operative site was the inner side of the wrist.
Looking at the spot, Taesu put on surgical gloves.
They skipped surgical gowns; the atmosphere felt less like an operation and more like a procedure.
As soon as Dr. Quentin took his place, he declared,
“Let’s begin.”
Slice.
At the same time, he carefully began incising the locally anesthetized inner wrist with a scalpel.
As he did, he also explained the precautions to Taesu.
“As you know, a vein passes through this area. So avoid this spot and go here, this way…”
“Then if I hold it like this…”
Slide.
Taesu hooked the skin lightly with a retractor and pulled it aside to assist.
Dr. Quentin seemed quite satisfied, praising him so much that his mask fluttered.
“As expected, you have the sense of someone who’s performed many surgeries. That’s exactly it.”
“I’m a little embarrassed.”
“Mistakes happen in the smallest details, don’t they? In any case, if we retract it like this, the median nerve becomes visible, and…”
“Mm. Ah, yes.”
Dr. Quentin explained everything kindly, one step at a time.
He was so detailed that the surgery and the explanation were split evenly, half and half.
It was to the point that Taesu’s ears began to ache.
Even so, Taesu did not show it even once.
That was because Dr. Quentin’s explanation was that detailed and sincere.
It seemed he felt quite sorry about what had happened yesterday.
Nor were the explanations meaningless.
Though it was a simple operation, it contained the fundamentals of neurosurgery.
Taesu liked that, too.
The carpal tunnel syndrome surgery ended simply.
But Taesu and Dr. Quentin’s time together did not end there.
As mentioned earlier, they spent the rest of the morning together.
In particular, Dr. Quentin took Taesu with him wherever he went and looked after him closely, as though he were a direct junior.
As the time they spent together grew longer, his manner of speech also became more comfortable.
“Dr. Choi, that patient just now has suffered from long-term spondylodynia (spinal pain)…”
“What treatments are available?”
“There’s surgery, medication, and rehabilitation. As for each of them…”
“Ah, yes. Then in what cases…”
“Depending on the degree of pain…”
Dr. Quentin constantly taught Taesu something.
It was to the point that one might think he had a motor in his mouth.
What was amazing was that the motor had sturdy durability and did not overheat.
The reason he talked so passionately was largely because of Taesu.
Taesu’s eyes, as he listened attentively, were blazing with a thirst for knowledge.
If there was even the slightest thing he did not understand, he asked until he did.
He did not focus only on the names of diseases and symptoms.
He asked from the causes that initiated the symptoms, hoping to grasp the concept of each disease clearly.
Nor did he focus only on conversation.
The starting point of the conversation was always the patient.
They continued examining patients or performing simple procedures. It was just that their conversations in between never stopped.
The medical staff in the same clinic grew almost exhausted by the sight of the two of them.
Time passed, and it became lunchtime.
After finishing his meal, Taesu was seated at a table in the lodging courtyard.
One might have expected him to catch his breath for a moment, but he was endlessly writing something down on paper.
“So the spine…”
What he was writing down were the key points of the conversations he had shared with Dr. Quentin.
The scope was quite broad.
Matters related to cerebral blood vessels and cranial nerves, as well as drug treatments and rehabilitation methods related to the spine. Epilepsy and peripheral nerves, and so on.
With a slight exaggeration, one could say he was writing down an overview of neurosurgery.
All of this was content he had heard from Dr. Quentin over the span of a few hours.
It was truly an enormous amount.
Taesu was absorbed in organizing it when—
Tap.
Someone approached and sat down across from him.
Taesu lifted his head to check who it was and smiled softly.
“Dr. Quentin.”
“Oh, no. Dr. Choi. I told you, that’s not my nickname.”
Dr. Quentin pouted and grumbled.
It was an expression that showed how close they had become, even in such a short time.
So Taesu called him by his nickname so he would not feel more disappointed.
“Kkuti.”
“That’s right. In that spirit, here’s a drink.”
Tap.
Dr. Quentin placed the drink he had been hiding onto the table.
Taesu accepted it and thanked him gently.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it. By the way, is your整理 coming along well?”
“Would you like to take a look?”
Slide.
Taesu turned the notebook toward him without hesitation.
Although some parts were written in Korean, the basic medical terminology was in English.
So it was not too difficult for Dr. Quentin to read the organized medical terms in the notebook.
Soon, Dr. Quentin raised his head and gave him a thumbs-up.
“Good. You organized it incredibly neatly. You wrote down the key terms properly, too.”
“That just means your explanations were that detailed, Kkuti.”
“That’s part of it, but I think your ability to absorb information is quite impressive, Dr. Choi.”
“Haha. I suppose that’s because neurosurgery is also a branch of surgery.”
Taesu joked and gave a more detailed reason.
At that moment, Dr. Quentin’s expression turned slightly puzzled, and true to his personality, he asked directly.
“Now that I think about it, people usually focus on their own specialty, don’t they?”
“You mean, why are Dr. Jeong and I working so hard at this?”
“Yes. This may sound crude, but if you don’t know something, you can just hand it over to other doctors.”
“That’s true.”
“Of course, there’s nothing bad about learning, but I just think the scope is too broad.”
As Dr. Quentin spoke, he seemed to feel a bit uneasy and glanced at Taesu’s reaction.
But Taesu was completely unbothered.
It was a question he had thought someone might ask someday.
Because he had expected it, he answered honestly.
“Didn’t I say I stayed in Ijambak for a while?”
“You did.”
“There were many trauma patients there. So I was able to help.”
Dr. Quentin seemed to understand Taesu’s words and nodded.
“That makes sense.”
“Other than that, perhaps I was lucky in the villages, because there were no major problems. But…”
“You’re saying you don’t know what will happen from now on?”
“I can’t guarantee it.”
When Taesu answered affirmatively, Dr. Quentin instead looked as though he did not understand.
“Then why are you moving separately?”
“Because I’m too greedy.”
“I think I roughly understand what you mean.”
Dr. Quentin did not want to hear any deeper.
He, too, had been a resident once, and he seemed to recall what kind of ambition he had carried back then.
There might have been other reasons as well, but he did not want to hear more, thinking it would burden Taesu.
Taesu was grateful for that consideration, but since the topic had come up, he added quietly,
“There was only me and my colleagues. No one there blamed us.”
“…”
“I would have rather they blamed us. I would have rather they drove us out. But seeing them simply thank us made me feel endlessly small.”
“Mm. I suppose it would.”
“But here in Padum, we’ve been given the opportunity to be with many people, so we’re satisfying our greed. Haha.”
Taesu ended his words with an awkward laugh.
On one side of that smile was a heart far too heavy.
Dr. Quentin nodded silently before speaking in a low voice.
“I think I, and everyone else, can more or less guess how you feel.”
“Do you think so?”
“In truth, many doctors come to NGOs lightly. So when they face reality, quite a few of them become discouraged or give up.”
“I understand.”
Right after Taesu answered—
Smile.
Dr. Quentin smiled gently and said,
“On the other hand, doctors who find a reason to live here never give up. Rather, there are many cases where their skills improve drastically.”
“If anyone saw patients like this, they would become that way.”
“Haha. That’s true. Mm. And to be honest, everyone is currently sizing up Dr. Choi and Dr. Jeong.”
At the unexpected words, Taesu’s eyebrows twitched.
“Sizing us up?”
“Whether you’ll be rookies or colleagues.”
“Mm. How does it look to you, Kkuti?”
When Taesu asked in return, Dr. Quentin let out a silly laugh.
“Hehe. Do you think I’d let just anyone call me by my nickname?”
“Is that so?”
“Everyone has started acknowledging the two of you, whether openly or not. Now that what happened with Salena is known, who would doubt you?”
At those words, Taesu paused.
“What happened is known?”
“I guess you really didn’t know. Mm… Come with me for a moment.”
“Where?”
“Follow me.”
Dr. Quentin smiled broadly and walked ahead.
Taesu first gathered up his notebook and followed him.
The place the two of them arrived at was in front of the hospital room where Salena was staying.
“Here?”
“Shh.”
Rattle.
Dr. Quentin carefully opened the door.
Salena could be seen far inside.
But she looked completely different from yesterday.
“A, B, C…”
The alphabet?
Then…?
Taesu’s eyes widened.
Facing him, Dr. Quentin nodded heavily.
“Dr. Choi, you saved Salena.”
“Ah…”
“Salena is all right now. No, she’ll become even better than before.”
Dr. Quentin gave him that assurance.