To those who thought I’d have run out of medical terminology right now, I say to you this: pass the vascular clamp and ready the nylon tape! With an uncontrollable forest fire wreaking havoc, our doctors must give everything they’ve got. Doldam is no stranger to threats to its existence… but this latest crisis is the most devastating yet.
EPISODES 15-16
As smoke paints the horizon, a woman keys Doldam’s address into her satnav and sighs. She’d so been looking forward to heading home. There’s only one character capable of such nonchalance in a crisis… the fabulous DR. SHIM HYE-JIN (Park Hyo-joo)! A woman who clearly chose anesthesiology due to her deep affinity for those who take long naps! It’s a good thing she’s back from sabbatical, because Doldam’s in sore need of numbers.
With most of his staff on walkout, Dong-joo refuses to budge; he’d sooner fight the fire singlehanded. But with crisis at their door, the Trauma Center medics are willing to table their grievances — temporarily. Don’t get the wrong idea, Woo-jin tells Dong-joo, as Eun-jae icily dons her scrubs. They came back for the patients’ sakes. Sure enough, when Doldam’s ER floods with chemical burn victims, Woo-jin opens the Trauma Center to those with minor injuries. Nurse Oh’s reaction? Amused pride. Dong-joo’s reaction to her reaction? A look that screams, hands off my mother figure! Nurse Oh assures Dong-joo that she’s every bit as proud of him too. But consider this: the situation calls for a unifying leader, not a lone hero.
The worst fire victims are the paramedics — two of whom our doctors know all too well. Despite Dr. Jung’s frantic CPR, one man dies, in full view of his heartbroken colleagues. The second, PARAMEDIC HEO (Im Jae-geun) has extensive injuries: massive hemothorax, and intraventricular hemorrhage. The latter means bleeding on the brain; it’ll require Teacher Kim’s expert attention. In the meantime, Eun-jae is instructed to do a combo surgery with her nemesis du jour, Kang “I stick tubes where I please” Dong-joo.
Neither is thrilled by this — but for once, it’s Dong-joo who attempts a peace offering. Sort of. This happens during the legally dubious matter of asking Paramedic Heo’s pint-sized son for surgical consent. (Okay, so they’re desperate.) Don’t worry, Dong-joo tells the child, with a glance at Eun-jae. Our best surgeon, will be operating. Eun-jae chuckles queasily. I just wanted to encourage you, chuckles Dong-joo, whose leadership style is evolving into what might best be termed “benevolent emotional blackmail.”
Still, all personal turbulence disappears when our heroes grab their scalpels. Instead, all is quiet professionalism and pinpoint concentration. With these talented surgeons in one place, Dr. Shim remarks, it seems Teacher Kim’s picture is complete. Perhaps. But not for long. Across the ER, Teacher Kim receives news worse than a death blow: the wildfire is hurtling toward them. They have forty, maybe fifty minutes before Doldam and the Trauma Center are engulfed in flame.
There’s nothing to do but run. Heart all but splitting in two, Teacher Kim calls Director Park. An organized retreat is announced. Trauma Center staff, plus any patients who can walk, will head to an evacuation site. Doldam doctors will go to the public health center. Meanwhile, Teacher Kim and Eun-tak will rush in to deal with Paramedic Heo. One last surgery, then, in the scant minutes that remain.
As smoke thickens around the building, our doctors operate, unaware. Eun-jae and Sun-woong tackle the pleural cavity, whilst Dong-joo sutures up a leaking liver. Woo-jin runs in to buy them time, attending to the damaged mesentery. Finally, Teacher Kim and Eun-tak wheel in the drill, to prep for brain surgery. In the silent dark of the OR, for a few glorious minutes, they work in perfect sync. There’s utter stillness as Teacher Kim inserts the catheter directly into the patient’s head. Blood drains. Wounds are taped. Paramedic Heo lives.
Only one impossible challenge remains: telling this room full of brilliant people that it’s time to let go. I need you to stay calm, says Teacher Kim. He explains that the fire is headed their way — that as soon as they finish, they must leave. You all worked well, he says. Then, with the air of a man unwillingly delivering a eulogy: we really were a perfect team.
Numb with shock, Eun-jae, Woo-jin, Dong-joo and Eun-tak emerge from the OR. They step into a dense wall of smoke. Sputtering, Woo-jin and Eun-jae head for the exit, flinching as they catch sight of the advancing fire. Dong-joo lingers in the office long enough to trail his hand against his new, unused desk. Teacher Kim turns to go — then pauses in the silent Trauma Center. He sinks down onto the stairs and simply — looks. Breathes. Then, he hears a woman — could it be Hyun-ju? — call his name. As the halls flare orange, he chases her voice deeper into the hospital.
Neither Doldam not the Trauma Center are, in fact, deserted. Each of our heroes have found an excuse to linger in the halls. Word spreads that Teacher Kim is missing — and soon, his students are frantically chasing through the smoke. Fittingly, it’s the very first person he brought to Doldam who resolves the emergency. When Nurse Oh walks into the OR, she finds Teacher Kim neither injured, nor desperate, nor broken — just pensive. Just sad.
They reminisce about how it all began. How Teacher Kim fled to Doldam as refuge from the world. How his pupils came to find him nonetheless. Dr. Cha and Dr. Kang are great surgeons, says Nurse Oh, but there’s a difference between skill… and gravity. This building could burn to cinders, but with you to pull us back into your orbit, the team itself is eternal. Teacher Kim gives that loving, now-habitual chuckle of his — which doubles in volume when she opens her hand to reveal a piece of candy. I figured your blood sugar might be low, she grins.
And just like that, there’s hope. Far from being apocalyptic, this new peril is nothing a bit of junk food — and a whole dollop of Kim-style charisma — can’t fix. Besides, three seasons’ worth of villains could hardly make a dent in our beloved, impossible, ivy-ridden miracle hospital. What hope could the measly forces of nature have? Soon, there’s a rumble of thunder. Dotted across Doldam, our heroes flock to the windows. A raindrop falls. Then, another. All at once, everyone is dancing, hugging, and getting soaked to the skin. Text notifications fly: the fire is receding; by morning, the evacuation order will be lifted.
Sighing in relief, Eun-tak turns to leave — only to come face to face with Ah-reum. This time, he collects himself quickly enough to stack one word in front of the other. The result? A long-overdue apology. During the evacuation, he’d watched her dial his number and sob in despair when he didn’t answer. Now, he knows how she must have felt during the building collapse. And so, having finally found his voice, he utters a series of very short, very important sentences. Let’s not break up. I love you. And, most significantly of all: I’ll do better.
What follows is a very enthusiastic kiss. You go, you crazy kids you! I can’t say I was rooting for you all the way, but Ah-reum deserves the world — and if what she wants instead is love crumbs from the most aloof man alive, then go figure! He’d better buy her an entire field of roses.
At the Trauma Center, Eun-jae and Woo-jin share an exhausted hug. They have approximately ten seconds to bask in the afterglow of Doldam’s latest not-destruction before a voice pierces the gloom. It’s a battered and bloodied Assemblywoman Ko. She’s driven here with her injured aides — one of whom has a tree branch plunged through his chest.
It’s all hands on deck — and all means minimal. Still, our heroes fall to work with zero hesitation. Assemblywoman Ko watches, tears in her eyes, whilst Teacher Kim and his pupils do what they do best: wrangle patients back from the brink of death. As Teacher Kim sutures away, Dong-joo remembers the first time he witnessed the speed of his hands. MS or not… he’s still got it. Afterwards, Assemblywoman Ko, asks if Teacher Kim plans to make one last pitch for the Trauma Center. Frankly, given the rate at which this woman gets injured, I’m surprised she needs convincing. Teacher Kim seems to feel the same. What’s the point of reconstruction, he says, if there’s no hospital? If people are left dying without aid? If this incident has caused her to feel shame… well, she shouldn’t ignore it. Gauntlet thoroughly thrown, he turns on his heel to leave.
A few weeks later, Doldam is coming back to life. In fact, there’s a joint celebration ahead: Dong-hwa’s farewell party, mixed with Eun-jae and Woo-jin’s housewarming! No, nobody is sure how this happened — least of all our OTP, who were certain they’d kept their living situation on the down low. (Alas, only Sun-woong was fooled.) (“They were dating?!” he exclaims. Please, nobody tell this poor innocent what they were doing in the office that one time.)
On his last day, Dong-hwa receives a gift from Teacher Kim. It’s a scalpel once meant for Hyun-ju: Teacher Kim’s first student… and Dong-hwa’s older sister. After her death, Dong-hwa confesses, I became a doctor in her stead. But I don’t have the courage to live like you. Teacher Kim shrugs. That’s fine! Find something that makes you happy, and do it — it’s as simple as that. And so, as our protagonists munch chicken, clink beers, and admire Eun-jae and Woo-jin’s lackadaisical approach to housekeeping, Dong-hwa clears his throat for an announcement. He’ll be staying at Doldam, with the people he’s grown to love — at least for now.
The next morning, Eun-jae blearily opens her eyes… to a ring on her finger. Yep, that sort of ring; when she interrogates Woo-jin, he’s quite clear on the matter! But he kisses her soundly just to get the message across. Meanwhile, Ah-reum and Eun-tak bashfully discuss dogs, children, and white picket fences — whilst, at Doldam, Dr. Jung reunites with his own wife and child.
There’s one question left on everyone’s lips: when will the mail arrive? No, really — are they getting government funding or not? Director Park is a man in constant torment. Even Nurse Oh takes pity, sharing some hard-won advice: there’s no such thing as wasted effort. What I mean, she adds, is thank you for all you’ve done. It takes him a moment to process that she just praised him, but when he does, his expression is priceless. It’s almost as good as the look on his face when the letter in question arrives. It’s not every day you get to tell Teacher Kim that his dreams have come true!
But fully-funded victories aside, some things never change. The sign on Doldam Hospital will always sputter on and off. Flawed doctors will join and metamorphose into great doctors. And there will always, without exception, be a new threat to the hospital’s very existence. That Ministry of Health official that everyone forgot about? He’s back, and he has a thing or two to say about the Trauma Center accepting non-trauma patients! (Dong-joo and Director Park give him twin, dead-eyed stares. Ah, the joys of management.)
Still, our heroes are prepared to weather any storm, with a song in their hearts and a scalpel in hand! Besides, Dong-joo won’t be short-staffed for long. For one thing, he’s finally won Woo-jin over: who wouldn’t get excited by his plans to make the Trauma Center the number one hospital in the area? For another… well. In the dark of evening, a woman steps out of a taxi. Yoon Seo-jung reads her suitcase. That’s right — as we come full circle, the Crazy Whale has returned to Doldam’s shore!
Where to begin? Sequels are a tricky business, and much like Teacher Kim himself, this show isn’t scared to chase newer, greater dreams. This latest installment was about holding onto what you love so hard it nearly breaks your heart — only to realize that love isn’t as fragile as you think. Did it tackle big waves in the form of an overly large cast? Sure. Were plot lines started, then abandoned? Alas. Were its female characters often neglected in favor of lauding male genius? Trust me, I could write a book on that one. And yet, despite — or perhaps because of — all its flaws and its messy ambition, this season was truly a joy to experience. Doldam’s larger-than-life characters will always cut to my emotions with scalpel precision!
Where this season really shone was in its development of Teacher Kim. I love how he was forced to tussle with the idea of succession, whilst doubting his own leadership. I love that he came so close to losing Doldam itself, only for it to stay impossibly, miraculously alive. I love that he, like his team, can be flawed, and difficult, and human. I wish we’d had more time to dwell on things like the rivalry between Eun-jae and Dong-joo (“two very proud geniuses,” anyone?), or the redemption of Dr. Cha — and there are plenty of characters I wish had gotten more screentime. But highs and lows aside, I still get shivers down my spine when our doctors race to the OR in determined slowmo! And so, against all better judgement, I’m invoking the jinx. It sure is quiet here without a Season 4, huh? (Somewhere, perhaps, a distant studio executive’s phone rings…)