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AM I WRONG?
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Yi-Seo

The sterile smell prevailing in the hospital corridor extends into the doctor’s room as well, and it is making my stomach churn uncomfortably. As we sit down across the table, the two doctors dressed in navy blue scrubs pull down their surgical masks and exchange worried glances.

I have an inkling about the troubled news that they’re about to deliver, so I decide to be the first one to initiate this difficult conversation today.

“Se-Young is suffering from stage-two lung cancer, and he knows it too,” I say in a solemn voice, bringing a momentary look of shock to the doctor’s faces.

“Oh, so he knows it too, is it?” One of the doctors who appears to be the senior among the two questions me, raising his eyebrows, and I nod in confirmation.

“Yes, Miss Kwon. When Mr Lee was brought in earlier today, he had a fever with shivers, and he had a wheezing cough as well. So we performed a series of tests on him, and it looks like viral pneumonitis, but we’ll have to wait for his blood reports to confirm that. We also found multiple nodules in his lungs that appeared suspicious. We needed your consent for performing a biopsy and for an emergency procedure to drain the fluid from his lungs, but it looks like you both already know what the nodules are. Did Mr Lee get tested earlier?” The doctor speaks in one stretch and leans forward to rest his elbows on the table as he quizzes me curiously.

“He told me about this over a week ago, and yes, he said he got tested. But not even the matron of the old home knows. And this morning when I met him, his hands felt hot, but I didn’t think it would be pneumonitis,” my guilt and negligence make me pour out whatever I know, and the doctors cast a sympathetic glance at me.

“We have informed the matron that he is ill and that it looks like pneumonitis, but since we weren’t sure if the nodules were malignant, we haven’t told her anything about it yet. The confidentiality of this matter is purely your and Mr Lee’s choice. Would it be possible to obtain his earlier test records? Or else we might have to retest him and decide the next course of action,” the junior doctor speaks this time.

“I will check with him because I have no idea where he keeps his medical reports. How is he now? Is it possible to meet him?”

“He is sedated right now, and his fever is fluctuating. We’ve put him on some SOS medicines for the time being to take care of the fever and the lung infection, and it may work soon. Once we receive the blood reports, we would be able to decide his course of treatment. But you can talk to him once he wakes up,” the senior doctor sends a warm smile my way, trying his best to make the situation a little better. But it isn’t helping.

“Uhm, I feel really bad to ask this…” I hesitate a bit. “But in case Se-Young is needed to be present in court for a hearing, would he be able to make it there? Does his health permit that?” My question makes them frown a little.

“I’m afraid that’s going to be hard to answer until he wakes up…” The senior doctor says calmly.

“He could possibly go if his condition improves and if there aren’t any further complications until the day of the hearing,” the junior doctor adds, causing my throat to go dry.

“I get it. In case he agrees for getting cancer treatment, what will be the next step? How do we go about it? How long would it take?” I have no idea how my questions keep flowing as if a dam broke, but I feel so mean and petty for asking these questions which probably make me sound as if I’m doing it with the intention of seeing him appear in court rather than genuinely wanting him to get better.

I’m so torn what to do in this situation. He is the only person who can testify in court and bring an end to Taehyung’s suffering. But he is also suffering from a fatal illness, and, him being a father figure to me, I definitely want him to get good treatment and live better. However, none of my questions right now seem to be reflecting the concern that’s residing in my chest. I’m making myself appear like a selfish prick, and I hate it that things are turning out to be this way when everyone thought that there could be no more problems in putting an end to this case.

“We have to first get his fever under control, and his pneumonitis needs to be treated, and then we would need the biopsy reports and a consultation with our visiting oncologist for further details,” the junior doctor informs me uncomfortably, and it succeeds in making my heart shrink.

With that, we say a few more words to each other, and then I leave their room to wait in the corridor for Se-Young to wake up. I also make up my mind to inform Jimin about the situation at hand because the sooner the better. In case something worse happens, I don’t want to find myself at the receiving end of Jimin’s wrath. Again, I’m being selfish, but at this point, I don’t have too many choices or ample time left at hand, and I only need to do what is logically right.

Placing a call to Jimin’s phone, I wait for him to answer it while simultaneously feeling my pulse race with my rising anxiety. He answers my call without much delay.

“Yi-Seo, yes?” Jimin speaks softly.

“Jimin-ssi, I’m at the City hospital right now, and please don’t panic. I got a call that Se-Young is admitted here, and I’m here to see him,” I inform him quietly and calmly, trying my best to suppress my worried voice.

“What? Now? What happened to him?” Jimin panics nevertheless, and I hear some violent shuffling noises in the background. “I’m in the middle of something important, but what did the doctors say? Did you meet them?” He sounds more worried now.

“I did, and they told me that it looks like pneumonitis, and that he is sedated right now. He should wake up in a while, and I will talk to him afterwards. They also want to see his earlier test reports to confirm his cancer,” the information that I deliver earns a sharp exhale from Jimin that sounds like a rough blow of air to me.

“Okay, Yi-Seo, listen. I know this isn’t the right time to talk about this, but did you ask them if he would be able to make it to the court?” Jimin asks me in a tone laced with caution and concern but also sounding a lot more nervous than his usually composed self. But the news about Se-Young’s pneumonitis has disappeared with Jimin; he didn’t even respond to that part.

“I asked them that, and they said that we could only know once he wakes up,” my answer earns a sigh of relief from Jimin. “And that too only if his condition improves and if there are no other complications in the meanwhile,” I add, causing him to go totally silent.

“Does that mean there’s a possibility of complications? I don’t think they would say such a thing without any solid reason,” his brain seems to be on a more paranoid path than mine as he keeps coming up with worst-case scenarios.

“It could just be to keep our expectations low. But he has a fever, and he is ill. What should we do now?”

There’s a long pause on the line that follows my question, and I have to actually check my phone’s screen to make sure that he is still on the call. After what seems like a few minutes, Jimin finally speaks up.

“Yi-Seo, I know you’d be really worried for Se-Young right now, and anything we talk about the case and him is going to come across as utterly selfish,” he voices out exactly what has been eating my mind out ever since I came here.

“Jimin-ssi, I’ve been feeling the same way. I don’t want him to see me that way because that isn’t my intention. I’m so confused,” I pour out to him as my shoulders sink in exhaustion, and I lower myself in the cold metal seat.

“Talk to him once he wakes up, and if it isn’t too much trouble, ask him if he feels okay to appear in court. We can’t force him if he isn’t in good health, but we also can’t decide without checking with him and the doctors. So, find out and let me know, okay?” Jimin dissects the situation and lays it out clearly in a surprisingly composed manner.

“I get it. I will talk to him once he wakes up,” I answer softly.

“I’ll be there once I’m done with my work, and we’ll then see what can be done. Have you informed anyone else?” His question is targeted towards my delivering this information to Taehyung specifically, but he doesn’t say it so.

“I’ve informed only you,” I answer implicitly, and he hums in agreement.

“Alright, I’ll talk to attorney Seong right away and be there at the hospital once I’m done with my work. Keep me updated,” he instructs me, and then we end the call in a bit, after which I go back to waiting alone for Se-Young to wake up.

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After almost three excruciating and panic-filled hours, a nurse informs me that Se-Young is moved to a room since he is awake now, and that I could meet him. I have spent a long time being on my own and preparing myself to word my questions in such a way that wouldn’t make me come across as someone who doesn’t care about him and his health.

Hoping that my preparation doesn’t go to waste, I blow out a puff of breath and just as I’m about to push past the door to the room where Se-Young has been moved to, I hear loudly approaching footsteps in the otherwise deserted corridor, and it makes my head snap in that direction. I’m greatly relieved to see Jimin jogging up to me, and his steps screech to a halt when he gets closer.

“Yi-Seo,” he pants heavily, his jaw agape and chest heaving, “attorney Seong told us to obtain a video statement of Dr Han’s confession,” he manages to let out amongst the limited air that moves in and out of his lungs.

My eyebrows knit together in utter confusion as I turn around fully to face Jimin.

“What do you mean? Right now? Will that be accepted?” I ask him as I grow more worried with every passing second, and Jimin is unable to manage any more words out of his throat. He only nods his head a few times as he proceeds to the nearby water dispenser and helps himself to a glass of water.

“Not right away. It has to be done with his full consent in the presence of a police officer,” Jimin informs me once he calms down a little, and I agree, nodding.

We then silently open the door to Se-Young’s room, and beeping sounds of various decibel levels welcome us once we step into the room which feels a little warmer than the corridor.

His frail figure lying on the bed is dwarfed by the numerous apparatuses surrounding him, and he looks alien with the little tubes attached to his nostrils. His lips are parched, and his eyes are sunken. The sight looks terribly sad, scary and disturbing, and the knee-length hospital gown that he’s wearing accentuates his miserable appearance.

“Se-Young-ssi,” I say loud enough for him to hear me past the dissonant beeping sounds, and he responds with a weak and tired smile. His eyes lazily move to look at Jimin beside me, and then they move back to me.

“The matron called me earlier, and I met the doctors a while ago,” I move closer to him as I speak, and I stop when I’m near his bed.

He tries to tell me something by weakly moving his arms, but the devices fitted to him limit his movements, and they are making it hard for his voice to come out as well. I gesture for him to take it easy and not to exert himself too much, and he agrees by closing and opening his eyes.

“Se-Young-ssi, you’ll be just fine. The doctors are doing their best, so please don’t worry and stress out. Everything will be okay,” I speak very gently.

Se-Young shakes his head helplessly and tries to communicate something to me, but I’m unable to figure out what he’s trying to explain, and I end up feeling helpless too. I turn to look at Jimin who looks lost as well, but, fortunately, a doctor and a couple of nurses enter the room just then to check on Se-Young.

Jimin and I step aside and watch as the doctor inspects the readings on the monitors connected to Se-Young, and then he disconnects one of the probes attached to him and also elevates the upper half of his bed to a slanting position.

“He’s awake now, but his blood pressure is oscillating, and he still has a low fever. His blood reports have confirmed viral pneumonitis, and there is also pleural effusion. So, he must be under continuous monitoring. Besides, his oxygen absorption and saturation levels are also fluctuating. He might need to be intubated right away, and if the levels drop any further, we might have to opt for ventilator support to help with his breathing,” the doctor’s words sound too bookish to me, and they make my head spin, but I’ve figured it out that Se-Young isn’t in a state to leave the hospital anytime soon. He’s very ill.

“We get it,” Jimin fills in the silence for me, “please do whatever is needed to help him get better. Can we just talk to him for a moment in private?” He requests the doctor politely, and the doctor agrees by leaving the room along with the nurses who accompanied him.

When it’s just Se-Young, Jimin and I in the room, I turn to look at Jimin, and then at Se-Young.

“Yi-Seo, the hearing…” Se-Young says in a rusty voice, and his words sound broken, causing a wave of worry to wash over me. I hold his hand—which is still a little hot to the touch—supportively as I prepare to talk to him.

“I’m sorry to talk about this now, Se-Young-ssi…” I suck in a deep breath, “but just to be safe, do you think you’ll be able to give us a video statement?” I question him shakily.

“Yes,” he nods in confirmation, and there’s a visible radiance that shows on his face, which is terribly concerning to me because there’s this age-old saying that the dying flame shines the brightest. This is going to be hard for Se-Young, but this also feels like our last ray of hope.

I convince myself that these adages are just so taboo, and that I will not believe any of it, and my thoughts are punctuated by the sound of Jimin clearing his throat. When I look up at him, he quickly introduces himself to Se-Young. He also informs him that tomorrow, as per the attorney’s instructions, we would be recording a video confession in the presence of a police officer, to which Se-Young readily agrees.

I’m only praying that tomorrow should turn out to be a possibility, and not just a plan.

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I'm praying for the same.
🤞

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Published on : 02/09/2023