A competent doctor can cure everything

It has already been almost three weeks since I started working in the Gastroenterology department.

After the morning rounds, I opened my scheduler before starting my next task.

It’s a small notebook I carry around to manage patient admissions and discharges, as well as important matters.

‘The main events for this week are Park Young-jin’s discharge and the Healing Concert.’

Coincidentally, both are scheduled for tomorrow.

Young-jin will be discharged tomorrow afternoon, and the concert will be held tomorrow evening.

This afternoon, I plan to give Young-jin one last Chuna treatment.

As I made these plans and walked past the ward station, a junior nurse (a nurse with less experience) stopped me.

“Dr. Lee Joon~. Park Young-jin is being discharged tomorrow, right? Is there anything special you need to order before discharge?”

“I plan to write a prescription for 10 days’ worth of discharge herbal medicine this afternoon. Other than that, there’s nothing special.”

“Okay, got it. And congratulations, by the way.”

“Pardon?”

I asked, not understanding the smiling nurse’s comment.

“The debut of your role as a primary physician seems to be successful. That patient’s complexion has improved a lot in just a week. The diarrhea has also significantly decreased.”

“I didn’t treat him alone. There were professors and nurses involved too.”

I spoke sincerely.

To care for a single hospitalized patient, a multitude of medical staff is needed.

The junior nurse smiled at my response and then spoke.

“But what’s interesting is that not only has his complexion improved, but he also seems like a different person now. In a good way.”

Another nurse passing by with a cart joined the conversation.

“That’s right~. I also noticed it. That patient is receiving Chuna treatment from Dr. Lee Joon, right? He was noticeably slouched on the first day, but now he stands and walks straight, which is great to see.”

The junior nurse shrugged as if saying it couldn’t be helped.

“But the thing is, every time I see that patient, he’s always on the computer. Isn’t it a futile effort to do Chuna if he’s not going to change his habits? It’s like a battle between a spear and a shield.”

“Well, it turns out his hobby is gaming. I guess I need to remind him to cut back on that.”

As I muttered this, the nurse leaning on the cart chatted away.

“His hobby was gaming? From what I saw, he was busy with video editing. He was also filming videos around the hospital with his phone.”

“Filming videos?”

“Yes, I asked him to be careful about patient privacy, and he said he would be careful to film only in places where there aren’t any people.”

“Hm…”

Videos? Is he posting them on social media or something?

I’ll need to ask him about it when we’re alone in the Chuna room today.

* * *

At lunchtime, inside the hospital staff cafeteria.

Professor Ko from the Department of Gastroenterology had just taken his seat at a table and was about to start his meal.

“Hello, Professor Ko.”

Professor Kim Jeong-ho from the Department of Acupuncture and Pain Management approached with his tray and sat down across from him.

“Professor Kim.”

“Thank you for your hard work this morning. Please, have your meal.”

After warmly greeting him, Professor Kim, who had been spooning soup, asked,

“By the way, Professor Ko, about that intern. I heard he started his duties as a primary physician. Is it true that he managed the collaboration with Western medicine well?”

Professor Ko shook his head at Professor Kim’s curious question.

“No, it was a mess.”

“What?”

Startled, Professor Kim stopped bringing his spoon to his mouth and soon burst into a hearty laugh.

“Oh dear. Are you also targeting Dr. Seon? It’s still early for interns to choose a department, and you’re already keeping an eye on him.”

Once Professor Kim understood the situation, Professor Ko finally allowed a slight smile to appear on his face.

“Well, that intern is indeed exceptional. He considers patient tendencies and even the taste of the medicine when making prescriptions.”

“Indeed. Even though he’s an intern, he has a deep understanding of traditional medicine prescriptions and a natural attention to detail.”

“Moreover, despite some misunderstandings that led to the patient initially refusing treatment, he successfully completed the collaboration. Seeing that made me even more determined.”

Professor Kim expressed admiration and curiosity in response to Professor Ko’s testimony.

“Wow…. The more I hear, the more intrigued I become. Has he already decided which department he wants to join? Have you heard anything about that, Professor Ko?”

At that moment, a hearty voice rang out loudly.

“Ho-ho-ho, is that intern really that impressive?”

The two professors turned their heads toward the source of the sound.

A middle-aged man with a strong build, a rugged face, and a booming voice was approaching with a food tray.

Professor Yeon Jae-wook from the Department of Oriental Rehabilitation Medicine, his muscular forearms visible beneath his white coat, came into view. His short haircut made him look like an athlete or a military officer.

“May I join you?”

“Of course. Please, sit down.”

“I’ve heard great things about that intern. What’s so special about him?”

To satisfy Professor Yeon’s curiosity, Professor Ko shared a brief but significant story.

“Well, we have a patient in our department who was diagnosed with terminal stomach cancer. We originally thought he wouldn’t make it past this month, but thanks to that intern, his condition has greatly improved. It looks like he’ll make it through this month with no problem.”

At that, Professor Yeon snapped his fingers in surprise.

“Ho-ho! Is that really true? Our Rehabilitation Medicine department is next after Gastroenterology, so we should be seeing that intern soon.”

Professor Yeon, who showed excitement, was asked by Professor Kim.

“Will you also make that intern a primary physician, Professor Yeon?”

“Of course. He’s already proven his abilities, and it would be odd to take back what we’ve given him, wouldn’t it? Ho-ho-ho!”

Professor Yeon laughed heartily, showing a determined gleam in his eyes.

“I’ll keep an eye on him, and if I like him, I’ll persuade him to join our department.”

“Hmm, but your department already has talent, doesn’t it? Professor Shim Ji-seob. Your ambition is a bit excessive. How about giving this one to another department?”

“Professor Shim came to our department from another school because he liked it here, so how could I turn him away? Ho-ho.”

Even Professor Ko, who had been quietly listening to the conversation, subtly joined in.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We don’t even know which department the intern is interested in yet.”

“Even Professor Ko is joining in? Now I’m really curious about what kind of intern this is!”

The remaining two professors merely smiled at Professor Yeon’s surprised reaction.

* * *

“Mr. Park, you’re being discharged tomorrow. How is your condition today?”

I spoke to Mr. Park Young-jin, who was lying on the chuna bed.

“I’m feeling great. My stomach used to be constantly gassy and bloated, but now it feels comfortable. The pain I had in my abdomen has also improved.”

“That’s good to hear. Tomorrow, you can take your discharge prescription, and then you can continue with outpatient visits.”

Seeing the patient excitedly describe his improved condition made me smile warmly.

“By the way, are you doing your neck exercise?”

“Yes! I’ve been diligently doing it because there’s nothing to do at the hospital and I’ve been a bit bored.”

“That’s good, but, hmm, it seems you’re still having trouble reducing your computer use. You mentioned your hobby is gaming, right?”

“Ah, gaming is my hobby, but it’s also a side job for me.”

At my cautious remark, the patient awkwardly shifted his eyes.

A side job in gaming?

I was puzzled, but then I recalled that some in-game items are sold for high prices in the real world.

“Are you selling expensive items?”

“Haha, not exactly. Actually… could you take a look at this?”

Mr. Park took his phone out of his pocket, tapped the screen a few times, and then showed it to me.

“This is….”

It’s a YouTube channel with a cute boy character as the profile picture.

The subscriber count is over 900,000.

The channel description reveals that the YouTuber posts videos of various games with reactions.

But why?

Seeing my puzzled expression, the patient shyly continued.

“Take a look at the ID.”

Zerojin.

“Oh, could it be…!”

“Yes, that’s actually me. Young-jin.”

I was astonished by this unexpected revelation and looked at the patient’s face in surprise.

“Were you really surprised?”

“To be honest, yes. I thought you disliked being in the spotlight, so I never imagined you’d be a YouTuber.”

“That’s right. Given my personality, it’s definitely out of character. So, I keep my face private and use a character image.”

Upon hearing this, I looked more closely at the video thumbnails and noticed that while the body is of a real person, the face is indeed a character composite.

“I started as a hobby, but the channel grew so well that… reducing computer use has been really tough.”

The patient scratched his head and clenched his fist.

“Still, from now on, I’ll make sure to do the exercises you taught me and continue with the chuna treatments to manage my health.”

“Yes, that’s a good plan.”

“By the way, I’ve been thinking about something these past few days…”

Suddenly, the patient sat up on the chuna bed and looked at me.

“Would you be interested in appearing in one of my videos?”

I couldn’t help but raise my eyebrows and chuckle at the patient’s unexpected suggestion.

“I’m not good at games.”

“No, not games. I sometimes post videos related to daily life. And the one I’m currently editing is about my hospital experience.”

It seemed like the suggestion wasn’t spontaneous; it was quite specific.

“I was thinking it might be nice if you, as my primary care doctor, could briefly appear in the video to provide useful health information or participate in a Q&A session.”

There was no room for hesitation.

I immediately declined.

“I’m not particularly good at speaking, and I’ve never done anything like that before.”

However, the patient was persistent.

“Doctor, think about it. It could be a win-win for both of us.”

“A win-win?”

“Yes. I can improve the quality of my content, and you can get some promotion.”

“That’s not necessary. I don’t really have anything to promote.”

As an intern at a university hospital, I wouldn’t be easily swayed by the suggestion. However, Mr. Park shook his head.

“The promotion I’m talking about isn’t for Hanbit University Hospital or for you personally.”

“Then what?”

“I’m asking if you’re interested in spreading awareness about Oriental medicine.”

“……”

The patient manipulated his phone again and handed it to me.

When I received it and checked the contents, I couldn’t help but frown.

It was a thread of comments on an online forum, where members had debated, or rather argued, about Oriental medicine.

The comment section had turned into a battleground over whether or not to believe in Oriental medicine.

Many comments were quite dismissive of Oriental medicine and ridiculed both Oriental medicine and its practitioners.

“Are you surprised? But reactions like this are more common than you might think. People say Oriental medicine is outdated and unscientific, so they can’t believe in it.”

“……”

I knew that there was an old-fashioned and unscientific image associated with Oriental medicine, but I didn’t realize it was this prevalent.

‘I see the effectiveness of Oriental medicine firsthand in the field, so I understand its benefits well.’

It was indeed quite shocking.

The idea of being asked whether I believe in something that isn’t even a religion was unexpected.

“So, Doctor, what will you do? Are you interested in filming a video?”

“……”

The shock quickly turned into motivation. My gaze grew more determined.

I looked directly at Mr. Park.

“Since you’re being discharged tomorrow, we should film it today, right?”