The Physician of Traditional Medicine Returns from Murim - Chapter 8

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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 8

“Sorry. Could you speak a little louder?”

Instead of shouting loudly, I picked up the hearing aid that was still rolling around on the road and handed it to the middle-aged man.

He dusted off the hearing aid, put it in his ear, and spent a long time catching his breath.

“Thank you, student. Phew… What did you just say? Oh my, my hearing loss isn’t that severe, but I was so startled just now that I’m completely out of it.”

Come to think of it, the patient in the assignment I just worked on also had mild hearing loss, right? Fortunately, it seemed like wearing a hearing aid didn’t cause much trouble for conversation. Modern technology really is wonderful.

I spotted a cafe not far away. I pointed to it and said:

“Not at all. You must have been very startled by that car that just passed. Let’s go in and rest for a moment.”

“The hospital room is right nearby anyway…”

“Your legs are still shaking. Please rest first. I’ll buy you a cup of tea.”

The middle-aged man looked down and checked his legs, then was startled. It seemed he hadn’t realized how much he was trembling.

I entered the cafe with the middle-aged man.

“Two cups of chamomile tea, please.”

I ordered tea that would help with calming down and went to a seat in the back. There were no other customers, but it seemed like that would be more comfortable for conversation.

“Ah, my heart is still pounding. If it weren’t for you, student, I would have been in big trouble.”

“There are so many crazy drivers on the road. Pedestrians have no choice but to be careful.”

“That’s right. Haha… This old man lived by divine luck.”

He kept blinking his eyes. He also shook his head, saying he couldn’t believe what had just happened.

“Are you feeling a bit calmer now?”

“Yes. Much better. Huh, really… Of all things, I almost got hit by a car. I almost went the same way as my wife.”

“Ah, your wife also had an accident…”

“Haha! You don’t need to look at me so pitifully. It’s already been 11 years, and I’m living well on my own without a partner.”

The middle-aged man cut off my words and laughed heartily, but I noticed his eyelids and lips were still trembling.

‘Wait, 11 years?’

I paused for a moment as I was about to take his hand to comfort him.

Bereavement of spouse 11 years ago, and hearing loss. The assignment I had just finished writing naturally connected.

“Sir, do you happen to hear tinnitus?”

Since he was just then fiddling with his left ear, I was able to ask the question without being rude.

“Ah, that’s right. You have a good eye, student.”

“That’s how I spotted you from far away.”

“Haha, I see.”

“Has that also been going on for over 10 years?”

“It started then. It’s been a little over a year since it got this bad.”

As if it was still constantly audible, he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Is it worse when you’re going about your daily life rather than when you sleep at night?”

“No. It’s worst before bed. When I’m working, I forget about it to the point where it only rings occasionally when I’m aware of it? But the moment I lie down to sleep, it goes beeeep~ and torments me so much I can’t sleep without alcohol.”

“I see.”

“At first, it really just sounded like birds chirping. I thought my dead wife was talking to me, so I didn’t even think about getting treatment. Sigh… It’s because I was ignorant. If I had gotten treatment right away then, it might have been curable. Much later, while talking with the foreman, he scolded me and told me to go to the hospital immediately.”

“So it got worse because you neglected it.”

“It’s all my fault. I drank so much alcohol. The doctors still tell me to quit drinking even now. But now I can’t quit even if I wanted to.”

The middle-aged man downed the chamomile tea like he was taking a shot of soju. Perhaps because he mentioned his deceased wife, some tears welled up in the middle-aged man’s eyes.

Instead of offering comfort, I quietly handed him a napkin.

‘So he really was an actual patient.’

I had thought the medical history was quite detailed for a fictional patient created for an assignment. From the circumstances, it seemed like he was an actual patient admitted to our university hospital.

When I only saw the patient through the chart, I had imagined a rough middle-aged man who enjoyed drinking at construction sites, so there was a big gap with the middle-aged man I actually met.

“May I ask your name?”

“Hm? It’s Jeong Gwangsu. Oh my, I didn’t even ask my benefactor’s name? What’s your name, student? Do you go to Korean University? What department?”

“I’m Hanyewon. I’m currently attending Korean University College of Korean Medicine.”

Mr. Jeong Gwangsu.

By remembering his name, he took his place within me as a person, not just the tinnitus patient from the assignment.

“You’re going to be a Korean medicine doctor? I thought you were an athlete!”

Jeong Gwangsu said with wide eyes. My movement when I grabbed him must have been a bit intense.

“Haha, I did some sports when I was young.”

I scratched my head while making up an appropriate excuse.

“What a coincidence this is. I’m currently admitted to Korean University Korean Medicine Hospital, but how come I’ve never seen you?”

“Oh, I’m still just a student.”

“Students are always following professors around too.”

“I must be in a lower year. Students do hospital rotations in their third year of medical school.”

“I see, that’s right. No wonder you immediately recognized the tinnitus!”

Jeong Gwangsu clapped his hands in amazement.

“Do you feel like you’re getting a little better with treatment?”

I asked him about the improvement progress I had been secretly curious about. According to the assignment Professor Lee Minseok gave me, there didn’t seem to be much sign of improvement.

“No… They say because it’s been going on for so long, treatment will also take a long time.”

As expected, he shook his head.

For the assignment, I had written about relieving muscle tension and nerve compression in the neck and shoulders, adding a few more acupoints known as main treatments for tinnitus.

But I didn’t think that was the right answer. If it could be solved that way, would he have gone through an otorhinolaryngology clinic, neurosurgery clinic, and two traditional Korean medicine clinics before ending up hospitalized at an oriental medicine hospital?

If treatment had started as soon as the tinnitus began as Jeong Gwangsu said, it might have been different, but after 11 years with all sorts of complications mixed in, basic treatment wouldn’t even come close to working.

“Are you hospitalized in the ENT dermatology department? Or the acupuncture department?”

“ENT… what?”

“Who is your attending professor?”

“Who was it again? Our class president recommended Professor Kim Sungchul as such a renowned doctor, so I came here, but my attending physician changed recently.”

Jeong Gwangsu spoke with slight dissatisfaction.

“To Professor Lee Minseok?”

“Ah, that was the name. He’s so young, really.”

He nodded his head.

As expected, he was a patient under Professor Lee Minseok who had assigned the project. In front of students, he acted like there was no disease he couldn’t treat, but apparently he hadn’t gained the patient’s trust.

Well, it wasn’t that strange. Even I had to endure all kinds of distrustful looks for being young and female before I earned my title.

The tendency to prefer older Korean medicine doctors, thinking they have more experience, wasn’t much different in modern times.

“How excellent he must be to become a professor at such a young age. He’s the professor I respect most.”

“Oh, really? Are you also his student?”

“That’s right.”

I nodded. Since having trust in one’s doctor is very important for treatment, I gave Professor Lee Minseok plenty of praise.

“Giving acupuncture without even checking the pulse…”

Jeong Gwangsu muttered.

I wondered why he didn’t like someone as charismatic as Professor Lee Minseok.

‘Oh my, Korean people also secretly like having their pulse checked.’

If it were back pain patients from disc problems or spinal stenosis, who make up most of the acupuncture department’s inpatients, they wouldn’t have any complaints about not having their pulse checked.

But in cases like Jeong Gwangsu, who came to the oriental medicine hospital with an unknown cause, it would have been good to check his pulse and explain something.

“If it’s alright with you, may I take a look?”

“I’d be grateful if you would!”

Jeong Gwangsu was very pleased and quickly extended his hand.

It seemed he had been secretly wanting to hear the results of a pulse diagnosis.

I placed my index, middle, and ring fingers on his wrist and quietly closed my eyes.

“…”

I understood the pulse itself in less than 10 seconds, but I deliberately took my time for over a minute.

His pulse, which had quickened from nearly having an accident, gradually stabilized, revealing a wiry pulse like plucking a gayageum string.

“The pulse is weak in strength, and there’s a hard, tense feeling.”

“Is my qi deficient?”

Jeong Gwangsu’s eyes sparkled.

“Yes. Your energy itself is insufficient, and what little you have is also stagnant. It’s also called liver qi stagnation, which in simple terms means stress has been accumulating for a long time. Since there’s no circulation, all kinds of diseases start from there. You probably have depression and anxiety, and pain will appear here and there too.”

He kept nodding as he listened to my explanation.

“May I also check your shoulder muscles?”

“By all means.”

I lightly squeezed Jeong Gwangsu’s trapezius muscle.

“Ugh.”

Even though he had been receiving acupuncture from Professor Lee Minseok for several days, it was still stiff.

I then checked his sternocleidomastoid and scalene muscles as well.

“Ah! …It’s okay? When that professor pressed it before, it hurt terribly.”

“The professor has loosened up your neck muscles quite a bit.”

“Yes, I received acupuncture around my ears, neck, and limbs.”

Even considering Jeong Gwangsu’s age, it was stiff, but subjectively it seemed to have improved. Since it was a body that had done physical labor for decades, it would be difficult to recover completely with just a few weeks of treatment.

I carefully checked his jaw joint and neck-shoulder muscles, but the tenderness wasn’t severe.

“Let me check your chest area as well.”

Finally, I lightly pressed the Danzhong acupoint.

“Ahhhhh!”

Then Jeong Gwangsu screamed. He made a sound that would have drawn everyone’s attention if there had been other customers in the cafe, then startled and covered his mouth.

The Danzhong acupoint, located in a depression in the center of the chest between both nipples, was a representative diagnostic point and treatment acupoint for hwabyeong (fire disease). This is because it’s where stagnant qi that accumulates when under stress gathers.

“You must be under really severe stress.”

“Does this area hurt when you’re stressed?”

“Yes. You often feel stuffy in your chest normally too, don’t you?”

“Yes. Even when I haven’t eaten anything, it feels stuffy as if something is stuck. It’s always been like this, so I didn’t even know there was a problem.”

He said this while pounding his chest.

“Since being hospitalized, they ask all sorts of detailed questions about how many meals I eat a day, how much water I drink, how my bowel movements are. Talking about it made me realize that I was fine when I was young.”

“You were so busy living that you hardly took care of your body.”

“Yes. After my wife passed away like that, I didn’t really feel like eating properly. Now I’ve even been hospitalized trying to get better, but really. I sound like someone on death’s door. …Is it too late?”

“Not at all.”

I shook my head firmly.

Signs that his digestive system and fluid metabolism had deteriorated from qi not circulating for a long time were visible everywhere.

But it could still be reversed. Jeong Gwangsu’s body still had the power to heal itself.

“With proper treatment going forward, and depending on how you live your life, you can get much better. Your wife would want that too.”

Jeong Gwangsu, who had been squinting his eyes every time he mentioned his deceased wife, teared up once again at my words.

“…It wouldn’t be right to say this in front of the person who saved me, so I kept quiet, but honestly, until just a moment ago, I was thinking it might have been better to get hit by that car earlier. My wife must have read my heart and sent you—no, sent the doctor to me.”

I quietly took his hand.

“I couldn’t help but overhear. You must have suffered so much.”

The cafe owner, who had been listening to our conversation from the counter, brought over a cup of tea.

“Please take your time and have a cup. There are no other customers, so feel free to rest comfortably.”

“Thank you, truly. I’ve received such great kindness today.”

He blew his nose with the pile of napkins provided and bowed his head to the owner as well. Though he seemed embarrassed about making such a commotion, he didn’t appear displeased.

Jeong Gwangsu placed one hand on his chest and caught his breath. It would help to let him cry it all out and release his emotions, but given a middle-aged man’s pride, that wouldn’t be easy.

“If you follow Professor Lee Minseok’s treatment well, there will definitely be improvement. Press here on your chest like this to release the tension, and breathe comfortably.”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t bring acupuncture needles, so I’ll just help loosen things up a bit with acupressure.”

He obediently entrusted his body to me.

I pressed on the Danzhong acupoint and opened my qi sense, clearly feeling the tangled energy.

‘Just loosening the stagnation should show some therapeutic effects gradually.’

I didn’t have the ability to cure Jeong Gwangsu’s illness with a single needle, and drawing unnecessary attention was also forbidden.

On the airplane, I was lucky that my student status wasn’t questioned, but Cho Haneul’s warning wasn’t entirely wrong either.

I massaged Jeong Gwangsu’s chest while giving advice that was exactly at a student’s level.

Letting just a tiny bit of qi flow, so it could loosen slowly.

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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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