Trauma Center : Golden Hour - Chapter 97

The foundation.

Why would the word ‘foundation’ come up at Hanguk University Hospital, a national university hospital?

At first glance, it might sound strange.

But in reality, it wasn’t.

Hospitals were fundamentally operated by the school foundation.

So from the university’s perspective, the hospital’s existence wasn’t just about giving back to society or serving the community; it also had to help the school’s finances.

And depending on how much it contributed, the directors and each department head would be evaluated differently.

It was a naturally sensitive issue.

“F-foundation! Watch your mouth!”

Naturally, voices of complaint burst out here and there.

“Why are you talking so crudely about money! This is a hospital! We’re doctors! People who save lives!”

Especially Professor Hong Jae-hoon, who had been going on about money all this time, was the loudest.

Usually, he thought of himself as a lofty scholar far from money.

But in reality, it was characteristic of people who lived as slaves to money.

Like the saying, ‘the thief feels his own feet prick.’

“Whoa, whoa. Why are you all getting so sensitive?”

Th𝕀𝓈 𝐜hа̄p𝓉𝖾r ı𝙨 p𝙤𝖘†𝑒𝒅 b𝕪 Ⱪ𝚤ƚꬲṉ𝐨𝗏𝑒𝓁

Kang-hyuk muttered, acting as if he had no idea why everyone was reacting after he had provoked them so much.

He really was born with a talent for getting on people’s nerves.

“Sensitive? Who brought up money first!”

So Professor Hong Jae-hoon shouted.

But Kang-hyuk was always ready with something to say.

He was shameless to the end, and at least in this room, there was no one more confident than him.

“Did I bring up money first? As I recall, it was someone else.”

As Kang-hyuk said this, he set the pen he’d been keeping in his coat on the conference table.

Then he pressed a button.

‘Severe Trauma Center, hereafter referred to as Trauma Surgery. Trauma Surgery’s January deficit is 421.1 million won. There are still unreduced parts, so it could increase.’

Professor Hong Jae-hoon’s clear voice echoed throughout the conference room.

The moment when the exact amount was publicly confirmed once again.

Even Hong Jae-hoon, who wasn’t completely shameless, kept clearing his throat.

His face turned as red as a beet.

“You were the one talking about a 400 million won deficit—how can you get mad about talking about money? If this hospital is about saving lives, as you say, you shouldn’t bring that up with me.”

“Uh…”

‘Self-contradiction’ was exactly the word for this situation.

Professor Hong Jae-hoon was at a loss for words.

“I think the discussion is getting off track.”

The one who spoke up in his place was, of course, Director Choi Jo-eun.

He hadn’t become director for nothing; he’d already regained his composure.

“Off track?”

But Kang-hyuk was just as calm.

He stared straight at Director Choi Jo-eun, ignoring the now-defeated Professor Hong Jae-hoon.

“Yes. Well… Professor Baek, I know you’ve been doing your best since joining the Severe Trauma Center. Not just from the materials you posted to the official account, but even just looking at hospital statistics, it’s obvious.”

“Thank you for recognizing it.”

Kang-hyuk replied with a look that said he wasn’t grateful at all.

Director Choi Jo-eun continued, thinking, ‘Was I crazy to bring in someone like this?’

But there was no change in his expression.

Anyone who’d reached that position would have no trouble hiding their true feelings.

“But the huge deficit is always a burden. It’s just too much. Honestly, don’t you feel the same way, Professor Baek?”

A monthly deficit of over 400 million won.

On a yearly basis, that was nearly five billion won.

Even considering that hospital businesses never had high profit margins, this was a massive loss.

Even in any other business, a department losing five billion a year would be a catastrophe.

Even Kang-hyuk couldn’t entirely deny that.

“I know. That’s why I’ve been attaching data justifying the treatments to the HIRA along with letters of protest, haven’t I?”

At the mention of [HIRA], Director Choi Jo-eun’s facial muscles twitched.

(T/N: Health Insurance Review and Assessment Service, the Korean government agency that reviews and evaluates medical claims )

He’d already heard about the massive protest letters and attachments Kang-hyuk was sending to HIRA.

He hadn’t heard it from another employee.

He heard it directly from the head of HIRA.

‘There are principles and standards, but if you keep doing this, it’ll be a problem. There’s an ultrasound record at Hanguk University Hospital that didn’t meet the criteria but was overlooked. The team leaders are trying to keep people from digging into it, but if you stir things up, I can’t stop them.’

He’d used honorifics, but it was basically a threat.

The scariest kind of threat for a hospital.

If [cuts] started coming down, even the biggest hospital wouldn’t be able to withstand it.

( T/N: Refers to reductions or denials of insurance reimbursement for claims deemed not to meet criteria )

Of course, even HIRA had to be prepared when they went after a leading hospital like Hanguk University Hospital.

In any case, it couldn’t be ignored.

“Didn’t HIRA respond to your materials?”

So Director Choi Jo-eun responded as the HIRA director had advised.

Of course, it wasn’t the answer Kang-hyuk wanted.

“They looked at them. All I got was a very insincere response: ‘We understand your opinion, but it is insufficient to change the criteria.’”

“It’s not insincere, it’s just the truth.”

“I was told that, in these cases, negotiations are supposed to happen at the hospital level.”

Individual hospitals usually couldn’t push back against HIRA’s cuts.

Because HIRA never disclosed the exact standards for each cut.

So if a hospital got on HIRA’s bad side, they could destroy it with standards nobody had even heard of.

But for a major university hospital like Hanguk University, negotiations were possible.

Like agreeing to stop the cuts for now in exchange for more caution from the hospital next time.

“Those negotiations aren’t for the problem of any one department or doctor, but only when the whole hospital agrees, ‘this is wrong.’”

“Since when is medicine decided by majority vote? Is something right just because everyone thinks so? That’s fine for policy, but medicine isn’t like that. Science isn’t like that.”

“That’s not what I’m saying…”

“Even if everyone says no, if it’s medically right, then it’s right. That’s how my treatment is. Haven’t the survival rates changed as proof?”

“Statistics…”

“Besides, all my treatments have grounds. They’re based on reports from countries like the US, UK, and Japan, which are leaders in trauma care.”

The direction of the conversation was one-sided.

If Director Choi Jo-eun had been a civil servant and not a doctor, things might have been different.

Civil servants had their own decision-making style.

But unfortunately, he was a doctor—a scientist.

He couldn’t easily refute what was, word for word, the truth.

“Uh…”

“I’m not even asking you to find the evidence. I’ve already attached it for every case. Take that and settle things with HIRA—not as Baek Kang-hyuk the individual, but as Hanguk University Hospital as a whole.”

At that, some professors started murmuring.

The truth was, if you live as a doctor—

Especially if you study hard and treat patients with up-to-date knowledge—

It’s impossible not to clash or get into arguments with HIRA at least once.

But not one of them had the courage to step forward.

They knew from experience.

Doctors can never win against the government.

“Well… I’ll review it myself.”

Director Choi Jo-eun was no different.

But at this moment, what mattered most was to appease Kang-hyuk.

No, more than that, it was important to look like he was doing so in front of everyone else.

He was the director.

“You’ll review it… personally?”

“Yes, Professor Baek. I’ll review it, and if I really think HIRA’s argument is a problem, I’ll step up and resolve it myself.”

“Hmm.”

Kang-hyuk looked at the director with suspicion.

The more he watched Choi Jo-eun’s wavering eyes, the more his doubt grew.

No matter how he looked, that guy didn’t seem likely to review anything properly.

‘Well, it doesn’t matter… This time, it’s enough just to make everyone aware of what’s going on.’

Kang-hyuk looked at the other department heads instead.

Most of them didn’t show much reaction.

But the younger professors who’d just been brought along to make up numbers, or professors from departments with perennial deficits, looked different.

They were clearly, if only inwardly, siding with Kang-hyuk.

‘Even if they just think that it’s the hospital and HIRA that are wrong, not me, that’s good enough.’

That alone would help him greatly in the future.

And there was also the public opinion created by the post on the official account.

Now, no one could openly attack him about money, at least not in public.

‘Who knows what they’ll do behind my back, though…’

But Kang-hyuk was more than capable in that kind of fight.

In other words, he’d gotten everything he wanted from this meeting.

Even if the director turned his supporting materials into digital trash, it didn’t matter.

“I see. Thank you.”

So Kang-hyuk could at least pretend to say thank you.

“Whew.”

At his words, Director Choi Jo-eun let out a sigh without realizing it.

In any case, the stormy meeting was finally over.

So eager was Director Choi Jo-eun to end it that he hastily banged the table.

“Let’s wrap up the meeting here. See you all again next month.”

With that, nearly every professor quickly left the meeting room.

Because, as a hospital, meetings couldn’t stop other work.

Some had to rush to the outpatient clinic, others to the operating room.

Kang-hyuk was one of them.

“See you next time, Director, Chief Secretary.”

He left with a triumphant expression and a bow.

“What a jerk…”

Anesthesiology head Jin Tae-rim frowned and shook her head at the sight.

Professor Hong Jae-hoon agreed instead of stopping her.

“How can someone be that shameless?”

Director Choi Jo-eun couldn’t say anything.

He was filled with a sense of defeat.

It wasn’t until some time later that he spoke again.

But it wasn’t because time had passed.

It was because he looked at the screen still projected by the beam projector.

It was still showing the material Kang-hyuk had presumably posted from the official Hanguk University Hospital account.

<That’s so cool!>

<Professor Baek, I always support you!>

<It’s my dream to be a doctor like you!>

The chat window must have refreshed, as there were new comments he hadn’t seen before.

These comments were just as bothersome and troubling.

But what really bothered Director Choi Jo-eun was something else.

“Come to think of it…”

“Why, Director?”

“How the hell did that guy post this?”

“Ah.”