Chapter 35
Right before the surgery, everyone was wearing masks and surgical gowns, making it hard to tell who was who.
But Dae-ho could recognize someone just from their eyes.
“Doctor Cherry.”
“Doctor Choi, it’s nice to see you again.”
The woman’s voice was friendly and warm.
She was two years his junior, and they had known each other since her internship days.
Although her mask and hair cap hid her face, Dae-ho could picture her perfectly.
Just like her name, Cherry, she had beautiful red hair that made her stand out.
Her eyes were close-set, her nose tall—a typical Western beauty.
Feeling happy to see her again, Dae-ho made a light joke.
“It’s terrible that such a lovely face is hidden under a surgical gown.”
“I’ll show you properly after the surgery.”
“Then I guess I should focus even more on the operation.”
“With your skills, Doctor Richard, you probably don’t even need to focus.”
When Doctor Cherry flattered him, Dae-ho shook his head.
“Never take a patient lightly.”
“Oops, there’s that nagging again. But that’s part of your charm, Doctor Richard.”
“When’s the patient arriving?”
“Hmm, soon.”
Just as Cherry replied—
Clatter!
The operating room door opened, and a stretcher was pushed in.
Several male staff members wheeled it in briskly.
Moments later, they left, taking the now-empty stretcher with them.
On the operating table lay a middle-aged Black man in his fifties.
Dae-ho stepped forward and greeted him politely.
“Hello, Mr. Dominic. I’m Richard Choi, the surgeon in charge of your operation.”
“Oh, I’ve heard you’re quite skilled at this kind of surgery. Please take good care of me.”
“I’ll do my very best.”
He bowed slightly.
But deep inside, Dae-ho felt a small sense of dissatisfaction.
This doesn’t feel right.
He was frustrated with the American medical system.
There was never enough time for conversation or real connection with the patient.
Yes, the surgery had been scheduled suddenly, but even so, it felt lacking.
This is what I liked better about Korea.
He missed the system where doctors could talk to patients, build trust, and share understanding.
He could even picture himself walking through the emergency room back in Korea.
But that thought was short-lived.
Soon, the anesthesiologist gave the signal.
“Anesthesia complete. Breathing, pulse, and temperature are stable. Operation ready!”
At the signal, Dae-ho picked up the scalpel.
“Operation start!”
Slice!
The sharp blade followed his steady hand, cutting through the patient’s chest.
As the surgery began in earnest, Dae-ho’s commanding presence filled the entire operating room.
Swish, swish.
His hands moved swiftly, working around the patient’s heart—cutting, tightening, stitching.
His focus was razor-sharp. He handled each problem one by one, calmly and precisely.
His touch was bold yet cautious, firm yet gentle.
Slice, stitch.
This was Dae-ho’s true skill on full display.
His vision was wide, too—he could focus on the surgery while commanding the assistants and nurses.
“Doctor Cherry, what are you doing? Hold it properly!”
“Yes, sir!”
“Nurse Sandra, over here—hurry, faster!”
“Oops! Coming now!”
The scolded Doctor Cherry and Nurse Sandra quickly fixed their posture, fully alert.
But Dae-ho wasn’t only strict—he also knew when to encourage.
“Good, Doctor Cherry. Keep moving just like that.”
“Yes, sir!”
“Nurses, refill the tools. You’re doing an excellent job.”
“Yes, doctor. We’ll assist till the end.”
The atmosphere immediately softened.
The suffocating tension in the operating room eased up.
Just a single word from Dae-ho could turn the room from heaven to hell.
That was how powerful his charisma was.
It was a major thoracic surgery.
Among second-year residents, Dae-ho was the only one allowed to perform such operations independently.
He led the surgery smoothly, showing the skill that matched his reputation.
Eight hours later.
The door to the operating room opened with a metallic sound.
Clatter.
Dae-ho stepped out, removing his cap and mask.
“Whew, it’s already dawn.”
He wiped the sweat off his face with a tired smile.
The surgery—
—was a success.
The bright expression on his exhausted face said it all.
Right behind him, Doctor Cherry came out, her red hair slightly damp.
Dropping her shoulders from fatigue, she looked at him with admiration.
“Doctor Choi, your surgery was as amazing as ever.”
“And your assisting has improved a lot.”
“Really? I’ve been working with Doctor Leone a lot lately.”
“Leone? He’s great at cardiovascular surgery.”
Dae-ho had a high opinion of Doctor Leone.
He was also the one who had introduced Dae-ho to soju.
There was a hint of longing in Dae-ho’s voice.
Noticing it, Cherry said softly,
“Unfortunately, you won’t be seeing him anytime soon.”
“Why? Where did he go?”
“He was invited to a cardiovascular seminar at a French medical university.”
“What? So Leone’s gone too?”
Dae-ho sighed, slightly disappointed.
Cherry tilted her head curiously.
“Who else is gone?”
“Doctor Jordan, too, right?”
“Our department head? He’s on a business trip to a medical expo in Ohio.”
Hearing that, Dae-ho lowered his eyes.
“Everyone’s gone. No one’s left.”
“It’s the season for seminars and symposiums, after all.”
“Are you going anywhere, Doctor Cherry?”
He asked jokingly, but Cherry smiled brightly.
“I’m your partner until your trip ends. After that, I’ll be going to Canada for six months of training.”
“Just go, all of you.”
“Hoho, it’s only a year. We’ll all meet again next year.”
“I’ll be lonely for now. Anyway, let’s grab something to eat. The donut shop should be open, right?”
“It’s a 24-hour chain. Always open.”
“What about our favorite soup place?”
“Nope, it probably closed an hour ago.”
“Too bad.”
He sighed, missing the comforting warmth of a hearty soup, but accepted it and left with her.
A little later, they were sitting across from each other at a donut shop.
As Dae-ho sipped from a tall cup of coffee, he paused.
Something felt… missing.
“This isn’t right.”
Cherry tilted her head.
“Doctor Choi, what is it?”
“I think I left the hospital too soon after the surgery.”
“Why? Our work’s done.”
She looked genuinely puzzled.
That was when Dae-ho realized—he had changed.
“Right… normally, the post-surgery care is handled by another doctor.”
“That’s the efficient way.”
“True, but… wouldn’t it be nice to stay and talk with the patient after they wake up?”
He confessed his thoughts quietly.
In Korea’s emergency room, that was routine.
But at Johns Hopkins, it wasn’t.
Still, after working in Korea, he had come to value that personal connection.
And that change came from one person—his mother.
“Dae-ho, Korean medicine is different from America’s.”
“You said in Korea, doctors treat patients as people, not as illnesses.”
“Still, listen again. I’ve experienced both sides. That’s why I tell you…”
Whenever she could, his mother explained the difference between the two systems.
Maybe that’s why, when he returned to Korea, he naturally began to care more about building trust with patients.
Even his uncles had lectured him about it, each in their own unique way.
“My Big Tiger, listen up. In Korea, being a doctor means—”
“Forget what that guy says. You should listen to me. A real doctor should—”
“Nah, let me explain. A doctor’s true duty is—”
“Hey, man! My Little Kitty, skip those boring sermons. Now, listen, Korea’s different—”
He could almost hear their overlapping voices echoing in his ears again, enough to make his head spin.
“Ugh.”
He shook his head, making Cherry blink in surprise.
“Doctor Choi, what’s wrong?”
“Sorry. Where were we?”
“You were saying Korea values bonds between doctors and patients.”
“What do you think, Doctor Cherry?”
She shook her head firmly.
“If a doctor gets too emotionally involved, feelings get in the way. That’s bad for both doctor and patient.”
“You mean the boundary disappears?”
“Yes. A doctor must maintain their own position.”
“True. That’s what we were taught.”
“You mean it’s different in Korea?”
She asked curiously, her eyes shining with genuine interest.
She was open-minded, without bias—just the kind of colleague Dae-ho liked talking to.
Since he had experienced both sides, he could now explain clearly.
“In Korea, you see…”
“Oh really? But isn’t that inefficient?”
“It’s less about efficiency, more about the connection…”
They went back and forth, exchanging views without hesitation.
Their discussion grew deeper—not to argue who was right, but to understand what would help patients most.
Even after a long surgery, they forgot their fatigue, engrossed in passionate debate.
The next day.
Dae-ho woke up late at the hotel.
He had completed the first surgery of his sudden U.S. trip.
The next one was scheduled for tomorrow.
It was a considerate break to help him recover from the long operation.
So technically, he didn’t need to go to Johns Hopkins today.
But Dae-ho still began to get ready to go out.
“As the surgeon, I should check how the patient’s doing.”
That was his main reason.
There was also another.
After the second surgery, he would be flying back to Korea early the next morning.
Aside from Doctor Cherry, he hadn’t met any of his old colleagues yet.
If he just came and went quietly, they’d probably tease him for it later.
And he didn’t want that kind of misunderstanding.
