The Physician of Traditional Medicine Returns from Murim - Chapter 208

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 208

What reason could there be to look for Hwang Sanghun at dawn when there was a separate night duty doctor?

The nurse’s voice over the phone sounded anxious.

– Clinic Director, Cheon Gwangseong is rolling around at the station and talking nonsense. What should we do?

“What about his vitals?”

The nurse recited the vital signs she had measured in advance: respiration, pulse, and blood pressure.

His pulse was fast due to all the commotion, but it wasn’t a life-threatening situation.

“What specifically is he saying?”

– He thinks it’s the middle of the Korean War! He says he can hear gunshots and is looking for his wife! He can’t even walk but was thrashing around in bed and almost fell, so when he said the room was stuffy, we brought him to the station, but now he’s rolling around on the floor.

This was clearly different from his usual mild dementia symptoms.

Although he occasionally asked where he was, he had never once caused a disturbance.

“It sounds like delirium.”

Unlike dementia, which worsens chronically over several years, delirium is a confusion disorder that develops acutely within hours to days like this.

It involves confusion about one’s identity, time, and place, along with decreased attention, hallucinations, auditory hallucinations, and abnormal behavior.

“Let’s start with a blood sugar check. Please get a DW order from Doctor Jung. I’ll be right there too.”

This was something Hwang Sanghun had experienced several times when he was an intern.

Delirium can occur for various reasons, but hypoglycemic shock was the most suspicious at the moment.

He was already taking diabetes medication and had nearly collapsed before.

For the nurse to check blood sugar and administer an injection, a doctor’s order was needed.

After making the request, Hwang Sanghun immediately headed to the hospital.

It was truly fortunate that he had stayed at his older brother’s house instead of returning to Busan the previous day.

“Quickly, quickly, I need to go home. My wife is waiting.”

“Cheon Gwangseong, look at me. Don’t you recognize who I am?”

“Geumja is alone at home. With all these gunshots, aaahhhhh!”

“Cheon Gwangseong!”

His blood sugar had indeed dropped, and the injection had already been administered.

But he still hadn’t regained his senses.

Delirium patients sometimes see hallucinations and become immersed in specific memories.

He seemed to be trapped in intense memories from the war.

“I’ll call his guardian too.”

Although they had decided not to provide life-sustaining treatment, if his blood pressure quietly dropped and cardiac arrest occurred that would be one thing, but if these symptoms continued, they might need to transfer him.

After contacting Cheon Gwangseong’s daughter, Hwang Sanghun watched over the patient’s room until he fell asleep from exhaustion.

* * *

Fortunately, Cheon Gwangseong’s symptoms calmed down within a few hours.

Hwang Sanghun took a 2-hour nap in an empty hospital room, then carried out the next day’s treatment schedule.

He made rounds to check on other patients and also went to see Cheon Gwangseong’s condition.

“I’m sorry.”

After hypoglycemic shock, delirium could occur frequently, so caution was needed, but for now he seemed to have regained his senses.

His daughter who lived nearby, Cheon Jisuk, had also arrived at the hospital.

“Thank goodness. I thought something terrible had happened.”

“I heard from my daughter and the nurses, but I don’t remember well. I just had a dream about the day Geumja died.”

“…You must be deeply saddened.”

“Ha! It’s already been over 50 years, no wait, Jisuk, how old are you?”

“Oh my, Father. I’m over 70. I don’t count every single year either.”

“Right, it’s been over 70 years, but it’s still so vivid. My wife went alone, leaving me and baby Jisuk behind.”

It seemed he had lost his wife in the war.

No matter how long ago it was, some memories never fade. Cheon Gwangseong trembled with his barely functioning arm and shed tears.

“Geumja, Geumja… wanted to go to Kkotji…”

“Kkotji?”

“Our hometown, Taean.”

Perhaps it was a place filled with memories of his wife. Come to think of it, today Cheon Gwangseong’s speech was subtly mixed with Chungcheong dialect.

Cheon Jisuk stroked her father’s hand.

Neither Cheon Jisuk nor Hwang Sanghun could find words of comfort.

“Clinic Director, I have a favor to ask.”

After crying like that for a while, Cheon Gwangseong spoke to Hwang Sanghun.

“Anything I can do.”

“If I work hard on my treatment, will I be able to walk?”

But this wasn’t something Hwang Sanghun could guarantee.

He had tried to encourage Cheon Gwangseong’s will to recover by saying there were people whose arms started moving after not working, and whose walking had improved, but it wasn’t 100% certain.

Despite earnest treatment so far, there had been little improvement.

“To be honest, I can’t guarantee it.”

“I think I can do it. Originally my legs had no strength at all, right? But today they move a little, don’t they?”

Cheon Gwangseong wiggled his knees slightly. But walking still seemed far off.

“I’ll do my best.”

Cheon Gwangseong smiled broadly as he answered.

“You said I’m going to another hospital in a month, right? Let’s work hard until then.”

He knew.

Hwang Sanghun quietly nodded his head.

* * *

That evening, Hwang Sanghun requested help from the directors of other Seongsoo Oriental Medicine Clinic branches.

He had been doing everything he could up until now, but it was time when he needed advice from more experienced doctors.

“Is there anything more I could try?”

Especially Professor Kim Chunsik.

Decades ago, oriental medicine hospitals had countless stroke patients admitted, so he would have extensive treatment experience.

Hwang Sanghun also sought consultation from professors at his alma mater, though things had become somewhat awkward since he only completed his internship before leaving.

– Try stimulating that nerve entrapment area, around the scalene muscles and above the ribs below the collarbone. Sometimes dramatic changes appear.

– I checked the chart. It would be better to change the medicine to Boyangwano-tang. He’ll respond much better to strong treatment, and we need to focus on promoting blood circulation and clearing meridians as much as tonifying qi.

The professors listened to Hwang Sanghun’s story and gave various advice.

– Try needle insertion with a thick needle at Yanglingquan toward the common peroneal nerve. Insert slowly to 6cm depth and you’ll feel that “this is it” sensation at your fingertips.

But where had Hanyewon seen stroke patients?

There were a few at Seongsoo Oriental Medicine Clinic, but patients with complete hemiplegia numbered fewer than 10 in two years.

“Ugh!”

Three weeks later.

Cheon Gwangseong succeeded in grabbing onto Hwang Sanghun and standing up.

“My goodness!”

Though he had received some help, the treatment direction hadn’t actually changed much.

He had already been performing acupuncture considering neurology and using herbal medicine to clear the orifices.

Was this the accumulated treatment effect from several months finally showing?

Had Cheon Gwangseong’s will to recover reached heaven?

Seeing significant changes, Cheon Gwangseong put even more effort into rehabilitation therapy.

“Doctor, thank you. Thanks to you, seeing Father so happy… I don’t know how many years it’s been since I’ve seen him like this.”

Finally, on the day Hwang Sanghun was scheduled to resign.

Cheon Gwangseong succeeded in moving from the hospital bed to the door while holding onto him.

* * *

Cheon Jisuk had no memories of the war or her mother.

It had all happened when she was just an infant.

Father had tried to raise Cheon Jisuk without her lacking anything, and had never once spoken about her mother.

Really, not even once.

Now she had reached an age where she could be called grandmother.

All her children had married and left home, and her husband had also left her.

Her remaining life consisted only of doing small tasks and visiting Father once a week.

She would have liked to care for him at home, but she simply didn’t have the capacity to look after Father with his mobility issues.

“Let’s be discharged. I won’t be a burden for long.”

However, thanks to the Korean medicine doctor who had cared for Father both materially and spiritually during this short time, the situation had changed.

Though he needed support, he had become able to walk a little.

…And both Cheon Gwangseong and Cheon Jisuk sensed this period wouldn’t be very long.

“Let’s go to our hometown.”

Cheon Jisuk took Father to Taean.

Had he actually been carrying it in his heart all along, even though he had never once spoken about Mother or his hometown?

“Hey, look there. Your maternal grandparents’ house was right there. I used to play in that empty lot over there with my best friend Byeongchul… What’s this, they’ve built buildings here too.”

Once they arrived in Taean, Father’s words never stopped.

Stories poured out endlessly about where he had lived with family, meeting Mother, and witnessing independence.

When they parked at Kkotji Beach, Father looked outside with deep longing.

“I walked this sandy beach holding hands with Geumja. I proposed to her, and… then your mother said later when we had a baby, we’d build sandcastles together.”

For a moment, Father’s time returned to the distant past.

Father shed tears as he opened the car door.

“Let’s get up and walk.”

Cheon Jisuk quickly ran over to support Father.

And they walked the beach little by little, step by step.

“Here.”

Father pointed to a certain spot.

The two sat down there, and Father smiled while gazing at the waves for a long time.

Pat. Pat.

Then he began piling up sand.

It was something like a cylinder, hardly worthy of being called a castle.

“Our Father makes it so well.”

“Geumja was the one who really made them well.”

Father and daughter burst into hearty laughter.

Until the waves came in to collapse the sandcastle, and the sunset fell.

The two sat there and brought out memories of their father that had been buried away for a long time.

* * *

When the period promised with Hwang Jihun ended, Hwang Sanghun returned to Seongsoo Oriental Medicine Clinic.

“Wow, your eyes have completely changed after just a few months?”

He had only worked at a hospital an hour and a half away for just over three months, yet Hwang Sanghun seemed to radiate the seasoned experience of decades.

After completing his internship, his self-esteem had been crushed, but this time he went as a department head, so was it the opposite?

Was it because the treatment results for that patient he was so worried about at the end had shown improvement?

“A lot happened.”

Hwang Sanghun made a meaningful remark.

Usually when there’s no attending physician for this long, patients tend to leave, but the loyal patients still remained.

In fact, there were several who had even traveled to Changwon for treatment.

Just as Hwang Sanghun was getting accustomed to treating patients at Seongsoo Oriental Medicine Clinic again.

“I need to go to the funeral home today.”

A death notice had arrived.

“Cheon Gwangseong…?”

“Yes.”

Although I hadn’t treated the patient directly, I had been hearing about his progress through Hwang Sanghun all along.

How happy Hwang Sanghun had been when he became able to walk.

“Let’s go together.”

So he passed away.

I had experienced countless patient deaths in the martial arts world. There were even cases where patients I had painstakingly treated were ambushed as soon as they left the Tang clan’s territory.

But Hwang Sanghun wouldn’t be like that.

“…Thank you.”

When we arrived at the funeral home, the daughter of the deceased recognized Hwang Sanghun and waved her hand.

“Doctor, you came.”

“Of course I had to come.”

“Thank you so much. Thanks to you, Doctor, we were able to fulfill my father’s last wish.”

Cheon Gwangseong was discharged at the same time as Hwang Sanghun’s resignation.

She said he had gone to Taean with Cheon Jisuk.

And a week later, when she woke up, his heart had stopped.

“He passed away peacefully. It was a blessed death.”

Before passing away, he was so happy to have visited his hometown one last time.

She said he was so relieved that he could step on the beach sand with his own feet.

“It’s all thanks to Dr. Hwang.”

Thanks to his daughter saying that, Hwang Sanghun’s face also became much more at ease.

They say human life is in heaven’s hands, but he was able to make his life shine until the very end.

‘I too would have treated him the same way, even if I knew the patient would die as soon as he left.’

His efforts were never in vain.

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