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I met Chae Songhwa in med school.
No, actually I met her during our application process for medical school. I was from Changwon, hoping to get into South Korea’s finest, Seoul National University. I, together with a friend, rode the train to Seoul. As a first-timer, I tried to come prepared and brought huge amounts of money, so I wouldn’t be cut short.
I thought I was prepared but no. I eventually had to break my huge bill to be able to pay the bus fare. I wandered around the City Hall to find vendors to get my money changed. I grabbed a hair clip first, I thought that it was just small and I don’t have a use for it anyway. But it was too cheap, a little over 700 won. It will barely do anything to my 10,000 won bill
I picked up a scrunchie instead. I didn’t know why at the time. But now, I’m thankful that I did.
When we arrived at the interview hall, it was packed already - a few seats left. There, near the end of the hall, she sat, with 2 unoccupied seats to her left. I took a seat beside her and tried to review my notes. I wanted to mess with Junwan so I told him a stupid joke about his hair. I tried my hardest not to laugh at him that I almost failed to notice that she, too, was in a haste to tidy her hair up.
She scrambled in her pockets trying to find a hair tie. It seems like her pockets are failing her and then I remembered - the scrunchie I bought at the train station . I immediately reached for it in my pocket and handed it to her.
I’m pretty sure that scrunchie was our invisible string . It's what tied me to her, from the very first day.
Her name was called and she walked into the interview room. A little while later, she walked out of the room and looked me straight in the eye, as if thanking me shyly for the scrunchie. I thought that would be the last time I would see her. But when the doors of the storage room opened and revealed her small figure, I recognized those eyes. I knew.
I knew it was her.
We then spent the next six years of our lives in med school as best friends. Together with Junwan, Seokhyeong, and Jeongwon. We enrolled in the same classes, so we would all have the same schedule. We studied together for quizzes, crammed for homeworks, pulled all-nighters and basically were running on the same brand of instant coffee and ramyeon.
We formed a band together, too and I taught her how to play the bass. For five years. It was worth it though. At least, I can say that everything Chae Songhwa knows about one thing, she learned from me. Because one should take pride in that fact. We were the ones giving each other high fives when we passed or got a good mark and the ones giving each other the comforting rub on the shoulder when we failed. We were each other's rock.
I poured my blood, sweat, tears, millions of won, and endless efforts into medical school. In return, they taught us how to be doctors. How to save lives, cure diseases, ease pain, and fix people. Most importantly, they taught us about a hundred lessons on how to stop death.
I learned all of those with Songhwa beside me. I became a medical student with her. I finished medical school with her. I passed the licensure exams with her. I took my oath with her.
I became a doctor with her .
But despite the things you give up and the price you pay for med school, learning how to keep on going after someone’s death is a lesson that it will always fail to cover. It is a lesson that cannot be paid with money. It’s something no amount of money or education can ever prepare you for.
I stared at her lifeless figure on the bed. Memories flashed in my head as tears started to fill my eyes again. I still remember everything so vividly. From the dinner she arranged to tell us about her biopsy, as she filled us in with the details, I was enveloped with fear right then and there. I thanked the heavens for calling me into surgery that night because I really could use some distraction.
I also still remember that as soon as I stripped off my operating gown, the fear settled into me right back. So I made the decision to get into a cab and be there with her to get the results. What I heard from the doctor's mouth was something I never saw coming and every now and then, I would still feel her touch burn into my arms; she held unto me for support as she dropped to the floor outside the doctor's office. Her battle - no, our battle - with her disease flew by quickly.
Each day, the number of needles that poke and prod her skin increases. Her hair started falling out. And every day, I watch her disease suck the life out of her.
And until now, as I stare at her pale face and hold her cold hands, the promise I mouthed to her that day in the doctor's office echoes loudly in my mind.
I'll fix it no matter what.
I am a great doctor. An excellent surgeon. I get invitations to symposiums, sought after by a lot of people in and out of Korea. I was on top of my class in medical school, I became chief resident. The list of my accomplishments goes on. I owe everything I know now to medical school, and the extensive training that comes after. But more importantly, I owe everything that I am now to Songhwa. I learned everything with her. I pulled throughout everything with her.
I learned how to save lives, heal people and stop death with her. With Songhwa. My best friend. The love of my life.
But it was her own life I was not able to save. It was her own death I wasn’t able to stop. She was the one I wasn't able to fix.
And that was the one thing medical school did not cover.
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fin.