Surviving as a Rogue Hospital Director - Chapter 28

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 28.
Han Seung-woo seethed watching Im Sung-hyuk with the hospital director, but he maintained a benevolent expression.
His public image mattered greatly to him. He could never be this kind to patients.
“Ah, so you’re saying your legs feel heavier than usual, unlike before. There was probably some swelling too, wasn’t there?”
He had always mastered Patient History Taking—grasping what patients meant even when they rambled without knowing the cause, then rephrasing their words appropriately.
“Oh? How did you know? You really do understand my heart.”
Patients who grew close to Han Seung-woo often complained about Im Sung-hyuk to him, saying he didn’t listen to them and did whatever he pleased.
His personality was fundamentally broken, so of course he’d be cursed by patients.
‘Ah, I see. Professor Im Sung-hyuk isn’t the warmest type, is he? That must have been frustrating for you.’
With such exchanges naturally extending the consultation time, Han Seung-woo was unusually thorough. His appointments ran twice as long as other professors’.
Listening to patients’ grievances took double the time, making it difficult to meet his annual publication quota.
Professors at Korean University Hospital had to publish at least five papers per year, but Han Seung-woo padded his record as a co-author or corresponding author, just adding his name.
‘Honestly, who else but Im Sung-hyuk actually meets that number? I’m not the only one doing this.’
Though different from Im Sung-hyuk, Han Seung-woo believed this was his own way of practicing medicine.
‘Some doctors are like this! It’ll be fine once they go to Thoracic Surgery and get the operation anyway!’
In truth, Seung-woo had heard from the fellow about Kim Pan-su’s Coronary Artery condition. He hadn’t done an Ultrasound himself, but there was an opinion that Angina was a possibility.
But Han Seung-woo had a history of rupturing patients’ arteries during Percutaneous Coronary Intervention. He needed to navigate carefully through blood vessels while watching the Ultrasound, threading the mesh to the heart, but he’d torn the vessel in between.
Not a peripheral vein—an artery. It was a common Side Effect, but fatal to the patient.
After that, Han Seung-woo had steered his diagnoses away from procedures. Besides, Percutaneous Coronary Intervention was possible in Thoracic Surgery too, so there’d never been a problem.
‘It’s just a typical Side Effect, so there’s no need to worry too much. Just let me know if any other symptoms develop.’
Moreover, hadn’t those patients with ruptured arteries all said they were fine? So that was settled, wasn’t it?
‘Ruptures are common side effects anyway. What can you do about trembling hands with age?’
Han Seung-woo always had reasons, and they held him back from improvement.
But it didn’t matter. He had plenty of juniors because he spoke well.
The Department of Cardiology itself wasn’t as unpopular as Thoracic Surgery, so residents kept applying.
“Im Sung-hyuk really has no tact. Why did he bring up the Department of Cardiology there?”
“Exactly, I told him about the Coronary Artery before. Wasn’t he deliberately doing observation?”
Kang Se-ra, a female fellow, spoke up.
She had taken on most of the procedures that should have been handled by the Department of Cardiology in place of Han Seung-woo, and her trust in him was considerable—nearly fan-like devotion.
She had been wounded by a blunt-spoken attending during medical school, and through Han Seung-woo’s warm guidance, she had grown explosively.
Truthfully, it was more encouragement and support than instruction, but Se-ra didn’t distinguish between the two.
“That’s right. I said it would be good to do Ultrasound before and after surgery, but I must have forgotten.”
Yet Se-ra had no idea that Han Seung-woo deliberately avoided procedures because his skills were insufficient, or that he spun narratives in his own favor.
“If something like this comes up again, I’ll formally raise it with Thoracic Surgery! Professor, please don’t worry about it.”
Se-ra, who had taken it harder than Han Seung-woo when he was criticized at the conference, spoke with her lip thrust out.
Seung-woo nodded with satisfaction.
Yes, this was it. Getting juniors to handle things on their own. Im Sung-hyuk was overstepping.
Han Seung-woo solidified his thinking like self-imposed brainwashing, but on the other hand, he couldn’t stop thinking about Im Sung-hyuk being with the hospital director.
That guy only cared about seeing patients. He’d never built connections or paid attention to office politics.
So it was easy to dump work on him. After all, everyone would side with the Department of Cardiology anyway.
‘Even at the conference, the director seemed to be protecting him. When did they get close? Something feels off.’
Han Seung-woo had an uneasy feeling.
If he couldn’t push patients to Thoracic Surgery, things would only get more difficult. He’d have to do procedures himself, and he’d get torn apart like he did at the last conference.
Han Seung-woo’s eyes narrowed. He decided he needed to get closer to the hospital director first.
Then he could keep dumping work on Thoracic Surgery like he was doing now.
Just as he’d gained the deputy director’s trust by playing along—it shouldn’t be hard to do the same with Beom-jun.
Han Seung-woo opened his eyes again with a gentle expression and spoke to Kang Se-ra.
“I think I should visit the director. I haven’t seen him since he came back, so let’s coordinate our schedules.”
“…Oh, yes.”
Kang Se-ra found it a bit odd hearing this from her attending. Han Seung-woo had never sought out the hospital director before.
‘Didn’t he tell me not to cross the deputy director? I thought it meant keeping the director at a distance.’
While he’d never directly told her to avoid the director, Se-ra had interpreted his indirect hints with absolute certainty. She was good at catching the real meaning behind his carefully diplomatic expressions.
But this time the meaning had shifted—’a’ sounding different from ‘ah’. Se-ra tilted her head in confusion.
‘He must have forgotten. Is his condition not good lately?’
But the trust Se-ra had built in Professor Han Seung-woo wasn’t something that could crumble overnight.
She had worked by his side for five years straight, from resident onwards. During residency, with barely any sleep, it would be no exaggeration to say she’d followed him all day.
Kang Se-ra didn’t harbor particular doubt about what Han Seung-woo said.
* * *
Beom-jun was struggling with how to structure the Multidisciplinary Team.
The Multidisciplinary Team Care System wasn’t determined by who took the patient, but by what treatment was best for the patient—
The composition wasn’t uniform. You could fix which departments collaborated on the team, or select necessary departments case-by-case depending on the patient’s situation.
When Beom-jun was a professor in the Department of Colorectal Surgery, he had been the team leader of the MDT.
Head of a massive organization: Department of Colorectal Surgery, Department of Gastroenterology, Department of Radiology, Department of Pathology, Department of Radiation Oncology, Department of Hematology-Oncology, and Department of Nuclear Medicine.
The MDT team called the Colorectal Cancer Center had operated with the Department of Gastroenterology evaluating the patient’s overall condition and the Department of Colorectal Surgery establishing the surgical plan as its core.
The Department of Radiology conducted imaging, the Department of Pathology performed tissue biopsies, and the Department of Radiation Oncology and Department of Hematology-Oncology determined the direction of chemotherapy. The Department of Nuclear Medicine assessed metastasis.
‘Complex as it was, the results were certain.’
Every meeting required coordinating opinions until his ears bled, but it was definitely time well spent.
Because they looked at patients from multiple angles, errors naturally decreased. And over time, it became an opportunity for each department to understand one another.
‘There needs to be a space where conversation can happen, no matter what.’
Beom-jun reconsidered this quest. Organizational culture couldn’t be created by one person taking the lead. The more the hospital director—Beom-jun himself—dictated things, the less anyone would speak up.
But if he structured the team around a Multidisciplinary Team Care System, people would begin voicing their own opinions.
It wouldn’t happen overnight, of course, but this quest had been vague in its specifics. So Beom-jun intended to exploit that ambiguity.
He typed at his keyboard, organizing his tasks ahead, making lists. His focused eyes sharpened.
Cut off from the world, he concentrated on the text on his monitor, and whenever he flipped papers, his fixed gaze moved with them.
– Team 1: Department of Thoracic Surgery, Department of Cardiology, Department of Radiology, Department of Pathology, Department of Nuclear Medicine, (as needed) Department of Allergy and Immunology, Department of Hematology-Oncology
Grouping them this way would let Im Sung-hyuk take the lead without difficulty. When needed based on the disease, he’d add the Department of Allergy and Immunology or Department of Hematology-Oncology.
Beyond that, Beom-jun composed nine more teams. Departments that supported treatment without directly seeing patients appeared multiple times across teams.
The coffee on his desk had long since gone cold, but Beom-jun felt strangely flushed.
‘First, I need to implement the Multidisciplinary Team. Building flexibility comes after that.’
Once the organization was roughly complete, Beom-jun called for Jae-gyeong first. Since he’d upgraded administrative support capability, this was a chance to see how much his skills had improved.
“You called, Director?”
Jae-gyeong stood blankly in the director’s office, bewildered. Seating him across from him, Beom-jun explained the Multidisciplinary Team Care System.
“We’re going to build a consultation system at Korean University Hospital. When departments talk to each other, the organizational culture will improve too.”
At the director’s words, Jae-gyeong’s eyes widened in surprise, then he nodded. As if wondering why the director was explaining this to him.
But now Beom-jun needed to draft the Multidisciplinary Team as documentation and get approval.
“If there’s anything you don’t understand while writing the report, bring it to me. Don’t write strange things without understanding.”
“Director, surely not. This… me?”
Jae-gyeong was astounded seeing Beom-jun’s draft report, which stretched some hundred pages.
It was an innovative idea, certainly, but written mostly in outline form with barely any complete sentences.
“Yeah, organize it and bring it back.”
“…Director, how soon would you need it?”
Jae-gyeong, who’d become considerably more formal in just minutes, asked.
Because Korean University Hospital was national, it was classified as a public institution rather than a medical corporation. This meant all documents had to follow public document formatting.
For example, rules like “the title and subtitle use this font, and the body text below has this line spacing, spaced at this point size” had to be applied precisely.
Which was why Gu Hee-jung, the deputy director, had been rejected by Beom-jun for doing it carelessly.
Beom-jun answered casually.
“The sooner the better. How about tomorrow?”
“…Come on. Tomorrow? Director, you’re something else, ha ha.”
Jae-gyeong spoke in a hollow voice with vacant eyes. Seeing this, Beom-jun magnanimously changed his tune.
“All right, three days. Three days should be enough, right?”
He’d intentionally been strict at first. This should be enough. It’s just tidying up the draft and formalizing it—the planning stage is over.
And if he was going to use the Multidisciplinary Team Care System for Kim Pan-su’s treatment, he needed to hurry.
The deputy director’s approval would be necessary for the system to actually be implemented.
“Yes, I’ll do my best.”
Jae-gyeong answered with renewed determination at the extended deadline.
Once Jae-gyeong’s documents were complete, they’d go up to the deputy director for approval.
Up to now she’d obstructed Beom-jun at every turn, so caution was warranted this time too.
The moment she learned about introducing the Multidisciplinary Team Care System, she’d definitely scheme something.
‘I need to prepare in advance.’
Beom-jun’s eyes gleamed.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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