Sense

Very different from the noisy and busy wards below, the VIP ward at 8 in the morning was quiet.

Leaning on the reception desk, Dowook watched as carts more suited for hotel room service went into each room.

Patients who complained that the intravenous injection was painful or those who wanted to be looked after first could not be seen and everything was peaceful.

Moreover–

‘Did they collect all the good-looking people in the hospital here?’

He shouldn’t have tried to find a blind date from outside the hospital.

The VIP ward was a place only for the famous doctors so everyone there was someone he’d seen for the first time.

The nurse sitting at the desk lifted her head.

“The patient in Room 2007 is ready now.”

“Can I just go right in?”

“Yes.”

Dowook checked the chart he’d brought with him one more time as he walked to Rm. 2007.

Lim So Yool. Age 27.

She had surgery to remove a benign neurocal cyst at the age of 17 and was diagnosed with complete recovery.

The primary diagnosis given yesterday by the vice-president and a neurosurgeon was the recurrence of cysts.

The area where the cyst might occur couldn’t be seen through the CT scan so today, they planned to perform a full physical exam.

Knock. Knock.

The door to Rm. 2007 opened and a woman in her late-20s could be seen.

“Please come i….. Huh?”

The secretary from the hotel recognized Dowook and lowered her head slightly.

Following the secretary into the room, Dowook discovered a pile of documents in the parlor area.

There were signs of someone who’d worked overtime and there were bundles of paper heaped up here and there.

“Miss Secretary, you seem to have had a lot of work to do last night.”

“It wasn’t me.”

“Huh?”

Tap.

While they were talking, there was a sound of another bundle of paper falling onto the floor.

The secretary smiled awkwardly.

“As you can see.”

“Did she not sleep at all?”

Dowook quickly moved into the inner room.

Leaning on pillows, Lim So Yool was intently writing. She seemed to be dissatisfied with something as she ripped the sheet and scrunched it with one hand.

Swish-

The ball of paper she had thrown without thought hit Dowook right in the middle of his forehead. It made Dowook, who’d been approaching, forget what he wanted to say.

Realizing the situation after the act, Lim So Yool’s eyes were full of embarrassment.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fi…. Ah. That was what I was about to ask you.”

Dowook scratched his itchy forehead and stood beside Lim So Yool.

“Did you stay up all night when you’ve shown signs of migraine? You probably haven’t fully recovered yet.”

“I’m quite used to migraines since I have to think about a lot of things.”

As Dowook was looking over the patient who looked less pale than yesterday, his sight went toward her ears.

“I guess that’s why you experience glucose deficiency as well?”

“Pardon?”

Lim So Yool didn’t seem to have understood the question. Dowook pointed at the chupa chups she had hooked behind her ear.

“I didn’t think that was prescribed by your doctor.”

“Oh dear.”

Surprised, Lim So Yool hid the lollipop under her blanket.

Thinking that a love of sweets wasn’t something to be embarrassed about, Dowook received a confirmation of the fact from the secretary.

“Director, the water has been boiled. How much honey would you like in your tea? Three spoons as usual?”

Looking back and forth between the parlor and Dowook, Lim So Yool seemed to have given up and bit her lips.

“Put in plenty.”

She seemed to really love sweets.

“What about you, doctor?”

“It’s fine.”

A moment later.

Holding a mug giving off a sweet scent, Lim So Yool displayed gratitude over the events of yesterday.

“The hotel visit didn’t become useless due to you, doctor. I didn’t want to repeat the trip.”

He’d felt the same at the hospital, but Dowook thought that she was very different from his normal patients.

Instead of being thankful for reducing the pain she was in or taking care of her in a dangerous situation, she was grateful for his help in firing the manager.

“If you don’t listen to your doctor’s advice, a dangerous accident like yesterday may happen again.”

“This is safe for me. Though you might not agree.”

A profound answer.

As if under a spell, Dowook couldn’t look away from her, who was prettier than any of the nurses in the VIP ward.

‘She is certainly not someone living a normal life.’

Taking a sip of her tea, Lim So Yool turned to look at the chart Dowook had brought.

“Were you able to find the reason why I fainted? This isn’t something one can find out exactly, is it?”

At the question full of hidden meaning, Dowook coughed forcefully.

“Since it’s a case where you’ve had a neurenteric cyst removed with full recovery and there hasn’t been a situation of recurrence normally, we are still trying to find the reason.”

“Normally?”

Putting down the mug, Lim So Yool looked at Dowook coldly.

“You are saying the same things as the doctor who performed the surgery on me 10 years ago. Normally. Without even knowing what that means.”

“I didn’t say it with any special meaning.”

Grabbing the notepad, she started writing something.

“No. ‘Normally’ means the medium of the usual. You don’t want to admit it but it is within the possibilities. Doctor, you have just told me that the chance of being cured is very low.”

Riiiiip.

Ripping out a sheet of paper, this time Lim So Yool didn’t throw it but handed it to him and asked.

“So. Why did you come here without an answer?”

Bang-bang-bang.

Dowook watched Lim So Yool slowly entering the MRI machine and opened the note he’d received from her.

‘What was the name of this graph again?’

Although he had been focused in the sciences for a long time, science and math were slightly different fields.

“Oh right. Gaussian distribution!”

“What are you talking about, Dr. Park?”

“It’s nothing, sir.”

The radiologist, Jeong Siho, pointed at the monitor showing the patient’s brain scan.

“The forebrain looks clean. You said it was a rare cyst?”

“It’s still a presumptive evaluation.”

Dowook stared at the graph for a long time before asking Jeong Siho for help.

“Doctor. What if. There is an article that precisely calculated the probability of the occurrence and treatment of a disease. Whether a person dies or lives. Do you think we would be able to tell from that?”

“What nonsense are you talking about? We absolutely don’t tell even a terminal patient how long they can survive. There’s no way to tell that for certain.”

“Right?”

However, what was written on the paper was exactly that.

An analysis of all the reported cases of neuro-oncology from around the world. Recurrence rate. Its median value. This Gaussian distribution stated that the perfect cure rate in the world was normally 5.11%.

‘This is a situation of just predicting a negative outlook.’

A while after the MRI scan had started, Jeong Siho turned his head with a big yawn.

“The brain of such a famous patient seems to be the same as everyone else’s.”

“Is she famous?”

“Oh? You don’t know? She was on the first page of the business news. She’s the Chief Financial Adviser of Europe’s ZQ investment group.”

The investment section was not something of interest to a 4th-year resident who was busy keeping afloat.

“No matter the company, she can predict exactly what day and time it will go bankrupt after scanning its financial data. Genius accountant, I think is what they call her.”

“She wasn’t an executive of the Millenium Hotel?”

“That place was recently taken over by ZQ. She’s probably higher up than the executive of the hotel.”

She was a patient in an amazing position.