#jiae.

[olunatic]

Ji Ae

[fmdnoeul]

it was only a four hour flight, short and easy. three hours and fifty-nine minutes, per what the pilot had announced. that’s what she kept repeating as they prepared for take off, the plane having just begun to move. it wasn’t so long, she told herself that she could make it easily, though that was easier said than done. there was something about airplanes that just set set her on edge, even more than the usual culprits when it came to her fear of heights. logically, she knew they were safer than the vans they took to their schedules, but the reaction they drew was anything but. she tried to keep her breathing steady and even, her grip on the armrest from every slight bump in taxi process leaving her with white knuckles and sore finger tips already, her heart pounding in her chest.  

she glanced over to the person nearest to her, one of the wish members and set her jaw, nerves bubbling up at the process of having to ask anything, let alone a favor. she hoped she didn’t seem as shaky as she felt. “excuse me, did you bring any water?” 

with @fmdjade !

[orbjiae-blog]

ji-ae’s hands tremble in anger.

she’s always thought that her words meant something. that her words weighted at least a significant amount in this world--that her words being a medical professional would at least be enough for her to do what she wanted, to help people. after all, was she not one of the youngest to graduate college and med school? was she not the best of the best--? (sure she may only be a general practitioner--but her professors, esteemed medical doctors in their respective fields, can vouch for her--they did so in the recommendation letters they wrote for her!)

yet here she was at five am. alone in the break room, her face flushed with anger as she tries so hard to stop tears from coming out of her eyes. a cup of cold coffee laid untouched in front of her. it was time for her to clock out, for her to go home and sleep as much as she want to but it felt so wrong to go home. her legs could not bear to stand up from where she was sitting.

five hours ago she was forced to send a patient home to her death. five hours ago, despite the hospital having the means to treat the girl of her broken leg. (she had a broken bone, she was red from fever, swelling around her leg--textbook definition of osteomyelitis and ji-ae was quick to catch on that--was quick to point that out. she had at most a day to live before the infection starts to set in--if only cell regeneration was something viable--something sure and no longer experimental.)

(“she had no money.” her senior had told her when she had . “no way to pay the treatment.” and ji-ae just wants to scoff and shout--did they not take the same oath to help anyone even if they can’t pay for it, to not discriminate in helping? number eight of the oath: i will not permit considerations of age, disease or disability, creed, ethnic origin, gender, nationality, political affiliation, race, sexual orientation, social standing or any other factor to intervene between my duty and my patient.)

ji-ae checks her clock. if the girl couldn’t find a hospital that could treat her at this time, she was good as dead. (the infection would have shocked her immune system, collapsing it and then--)

the doctor closes her eyes and tries so hard to not think of the girl’s widening eyes as she realized that she was being kicked out of the hospital. she tries hard not to think of how she looks now, tries hard to forget about her. (”that’s the definition of a good doctor, ji-ae.” her senior had told her in an attempt to comfort her, but it did nothing but upset her stomach. “the ability to harden your heart.”)

(if min-ji was here--if she was here, ji-ae knows that her senior would have been long punched. would have been long left bleeding on the ground, probably missing a tooth.)

she opens her eyes. this was not the reason why she became a doctor. she became a doctor to help others, because that’s the righteous thing to do. she became a doctor be like one of those doctors she sees on television, always ready to lend a helping hand--always ready to break the law just to help a patient.

(”if i wasn’t a teacher, i’d probably be back treating patients for free. maybe even join the resistance, you know?” she laughs and it’s as if she never died. “but i probably won’t do that. i don’t have the strength to do that, maybe when i was young, but not now.”)

she checks her clock again. ji-ae knows where they keep the necessary tools to help with infection and set broken bones. she knows where the girl lives, she looked at her file earlier. she knows the quickest way to get there.

ji-ae regains the strength to stand up from her table and she runs as fast as she can. this time, she’s not running away from anything and she feels so free.

(she doesn’t come to work the next day.)

[olunatic]

Ji Ae

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Ji Ae

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Ji Ae

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Ji Ae

[olunatic]

Ji Ae