The White Coat Oath
7 min read

Chapter 23

Chapter 23 — The White Coat Oath

Updated 06/09/2026 7 min read

On the day Khoa left for Singapore, a group of close friends and family gathered at the airport to see him off, creating a scene that was both warm and inevitably filled with lingering tears. Associate Professor Truong stood next to his son, his eyes filled with pride and a bit of unwillingness to part.

"Remember to take care of your health, don't forget to take care of yourself because you're so busy studying," he advised, his voice somewhat choked, rarely seen in a person who always remained calm and serious. "I believe you will learn many valuable things from this program, but don't forget, your family and Yen are always waiting for you to return."

"I will try my best, dad," Khoa replied, hugging him for a moment. "I promise to keep in touch regularly, and will return as soon as I complete the program."

Nghia patted his best friend's shoulder, trying to keep his voice cheerful even though his eyes couldn't hide his attachment. "Go well, don't be so engrossed in studying that you forget to call and check on us. We will continue to maintain everything here, don't worry."

"I believe in you," Khoa smiled, responding to the close hug from the friend who had accompanied him throughout the tumultuous residency. "Remember to take care of Yen for me, even though I know she's strong enough to take care of herself."

Finally, when it was Yen's turn, Khoa pulled her to a private corner, away from everyone's eyes, held both of her hands tightly, his eyes full of nostalgia. “I will miss you so much,” he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. "But I believe, a year will pass quickly, and then we will be together again, preparing for a new chapter in life."

"I will miss you too," Yen replied, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to flow. "But I believe in us, believe in the love that we have built together. You can rest assured to study, don't worry about me at all."

Khoa leaned down, kissed her lightly on the forehead, then hugged her tightly in his arms as if wanting to completely remember this warm feeling before being separated for a long time. "I love you, Yen. Please wait for me to return."

"I love you too," Yen replied, her voice trembling but still full of determination. "I will wait, no matter how long it takes."

When Khoa disappeared behind the airport security gate, Yen stood silently for a long time, a strange feeling of emptiness rising in her heart even though she knew clearly that this was only a temporary separation. Minh Thu walked over, put her arm around Yen's shoulder, and gently comforted her. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Yen replied, trying to smile even though her eyes were still filled with tears. "It's just a little sad. But I believe this is the right thing, for both of us."

In the first days after Khoa left, Yen tried to fill the void by focusing maximum on work, spending more time on the downline support program as well as completing the final stages of the residency program that was about to end. Every night, even though the time difference is not too big, the two still try to arrange time to video call each other, even if it's only short conversations in the middle of a busy schedule.

"Today I just participated in direct observation of a laparoscopic liver tumor removal surgery using a new technique," Khoa said through the phone screen, his eyes still filled with excitement even though it was late in the evening local time. "This technique significantly reduces recovery time for patients compared to traditional methods. I think, this will be something I can bring back and apply to my hospital in the future."

"Sounds great," Yen replied, unable to hide her pride when she saw Khoa so passionate about learning. "I also have good news to share. The downline support program has just received its first grant from a community health fund, enough to offset previous budget cuts."

"That's great," Khoa exclaimed excitedly. "I knew you would find a solution. I'm so proud of you, even though I'm half a world away."

Such conversations become a valuable source of motivation to help both overcome feelings of longing and distance, and are also an opportunity for them to share and grow together both professionally and emotionally, even though they are no longer together every day like before.

However, not everything goes as smoothly as both expected. Three weeks after Khoa left, the tight schedule of the fellowship program made the video calls between the two gradually become less frequent, sometimes having to be postponed or shortened to just a few short minutes because Khoa was too tired after long shifts, studying continuously from morning to night.

One evening, after waiting for Khoa's call for nearly two hours without seeing him contact her, Yen felt a vague sadness and worry rising in her heart. She texted to ask, but it wasn't until late at night that she received a brief response from Khoa, explaining that he had just finished an unexpectedly long surgery and was too tired to make a video call as scheduled.

"I understand you're busy," Yen texted back, trying to keep her voice calm even though she couldn't help but feel sorry for herself. "But sometimes I also feel a bit lonely when our dates keep getting postponed like that."

Khoa, reading that message while feeling very tired, accidentally responded with a somewhat more impatient tone than usual. "I don't want that either. Do you think I don't miss you? But this program requires my utmost concentration, I can't always prioritize calling."

That text message made Yen feel more hurt than she expected, leading to an uncomfortable silence that lasted for the next two days, when both were busy with their own work and no one proactively texted to make up first. Yen began to worry, wondering if the geographical distance was really eroding their relationship like she had feared from the beginning.

On the third day, Khoa proactively called her on video, his face showing apologetic expression. "I'm sorry for the way I spoke that day," he started as soon as Yen picked up the phone, his voice full of sincerity. "I know I overreacted, when I should have understood your feelings of loneliness more. Work pressure is not a reason for me to be impatient with the person I love the most."

"I'm sorry too," Yen replied, feeling relieved to hear those sincere words. "I know you're very busy, and I shouldn't put more pressure on you with my self-pity. Maybe we need to be more frank with each other about realistic limits, instead of having implicit expectations of each other."

The two spent the entire evening chatting frankly, agreeing on a more flexible communication schedule, not rigidly tied to fixed hours, but instead, just proactively texting each time there are unexpected changes, so that the other person doesn't have to wait in anxiety.

"I think, this is the important lesson we need to learn in this year of separation," Khoa said, his eyes gently looking at her through the screen. "Love does not mean never having conflicts, but knowing how to frankly face and resolve those conflicts together, instead of letting them fester."

"You're right," Yen nodded, smiling warmly through the screen. "And I'm even more convinced that we made the right decision to choose to face this challenge together, rather than shy away from it."

Since that misunderstanding, the two have cherished every moment they talked to each other even more, even if only through a phone screen. Yen began to proactively send Khoa short videos recording her everyday moments in her free time - a beautiful sunset on the way home, an interesting medical case that had just been successfully handled, or simply a gentle good night before going to bed.

Khoa also responded with photos capturing the strange scenery of a foreign country, the local dishes he tried for the first time, or scribbled handwritten notes about newly learned techniques, along with a small message just for her. Those small pieces, even though they are thousands of kilometers apart, still help both of them feel each other's close presence in daily life, somewhat dispelling the feeling of loneliness of the days apart.

Minh Thu, witnessing that positive change in her friend, couldn't help but tease her every time she saw Yen smiling alone on the phone. "Look at you, it's like falling in love for the first time," she smiled, making Yen blush but unable to hide the smoldering happiness in her heart during these challenging but also mature days of separation.

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