Chapter 24 — The White Coat Oath

Six months have passed since Khoa left, Yen officially completed the residency program, marking an important milestone in her career. The graduation ceremony was solemnly held in the hospital's large hall, with the participation of the entire board of directors, instructing doctors, and family and close friends.

Yen stood on the podium receiving her diploma, her eyes sparkling with pride mixed with a bit of regret that Khoa could not be present in person at this important moment. But he still tried to arrange time to watch the ceremony via a video call supported by Nghia connecting directly to the hall's big screen.

"I'm so proud of you, Yen," Khoa's voice rang out through the speakers. Although the image was a bit laggy due to an unstable network connection, it was still enough for the whole hall to clearly hear every word he said. "I wish I could be there to personally congratulate you, but I believe, this moment will always be one of the most beautiful memories we share, no matter how far apart we are."

The whole hall applauded warmly at that emotional congratulation. Many people could not hide their emotions at the couple's love story overcoming geographical distance, which has become a source of inspiration for many colleagues over the past time.

Associate Professor Truong, as both a guide and a future family, personally awarded Yen the diploma, his eyes filled with respect and pride. "You have successfully completed the residency program, not only professionally but also left a deep impression through meaningful contributions to the entire hospital system. I believe, you will continue to shine on the career path ahead."

"Thank you, Dad, for always trusting me and creating conditions for me to develop," Yen replied, her voice choked with emotion. "I promise to continue trying, not to disappoint the trust of dad as well as everyone who has accompanied me throughout the past journey."

After the ceremony, the hospital board of directors officially announced the decision to retain Yen as an official doctor in the Emergency Department, and at the same time promoted her to the position of deputy team leader in charge of the patient safety program - a newly established position to continue promoting the achievements of the reform project that she and the department have worked hard to build.

"This is a great honor," Yen shared with Minh Thu after the ceremony, still feeling overwhelmed by that unexpected good news. "But I also feel a lot of pressure, having to take on such an important role at this age."

"You absolutely deserve that position," Minh Thu affirmed, her voice full of confidence. "No one understands this program better than you, and no one has the dedication to continue developing it like you."

That evening, when making a video call to Khoa to share the good news about her new position, Yen could not hide her excitement and anxiety. "I'm really happy to be entrusted with this responsibility, but I'm also afraid that I don't have enough experience to handle that role well."

"I believe you can absolutely do it," Khoa replied, his eyes filled with confidence through the screen. "You have proven your abilities through countless challenges. This is just the next natural step in your career journey."

"Thank you, for always believing in me more than I am sometimes confident," Yen smiled, feeling much more relieved after that encouragement. "I wish you could be here right now so I could hug you tightly and share this joy completely."

"Only six months left," Khoa consoled, his voice full of hope. "Then we will be together again, not only sharing this joy but also many other wonderful things waiting ahead."

In the weeks that followed, Yen immediately started her new job with all her enthusiasm, spending most of her time building a plan to expand the patient safety program to more departments in the hospital, while continuing to maintain and develop the lower-level support program that has begun to reap encouraging results.

She also spends time training a new group of resident doctors, who will continue to inherit and promote the values that she and Khoa have worked hard to build. During an orientation session, a young resident doctor asked a question that made Yen nostalgically recall herself in the early days of entering the profession.

"Miss Yen, have you ever regretted speaking up about Dr. Phat's mistakes? I heard that at that time, many people advised you to stay silent to avoid trouble."

Yen pondered for a moment before answering, her eyes looking far away as if recalling that turbulent time. "I never regret it. There are moments when I am scared and worried about the consequences that could happen to my career. But I always believe that the oath we take when entering the medical field does not allow us to stay silent in the face of wrongdoing, even though the price to pay may not be small."

"So do you have any advice for those of us who are about to face similar dilemmas in the future?" another resident doctor asked further, his eyes full of seriousness.

"I think the most important thing is to always maintain a professional conscience, even though sometimes that means facing difficult choices," Yen replied, her voice full of enthusiasm. "And remember, you are never alone. There are always colleagues and teachers ready to support you if you dare to stand up for what is right."

That sharing session left a deep impression in the hearts of many young resident doctors, contributing to spreading the safe and transparent culture that Yen and Khoa have worked hard to build over the past time, not only stopping at specific processes but also penetrating deeply into the spirit and core values of an entire generation of young doctors.

Amidst the busyness of her new job, Yen still did not forget to spend time preparing for the upcoming wedding. She, her mother and Minh Thu spent rare weekends checking out venues, trying on wedding dresses, and making a preliminary guest list, even though the official wedding date was still half a year away.

"What color scheme are you going to choose for the wedding?" Minh Thu asked as they both browsed through wedding dress catalogs at a familiar store in the city.

"I think light turquoise tones, combined with white," Yen replied, her eyes sparkling as she looked at a simple but elegant dress. " Khoa once said that the turquoise color reminded him of my hometown beach, where we had one of the most meaningful conversations."

"It's so romantic," Minh Thu smiled, unable to hide her admiration for the sophistication in every little detail that the couple gave each other. "I believe, your wedding will be one of the most beautiful weddings I have ever attended."

During each video call, Yen updated Khoa on small developments in wedding preparations, making their conversations even more excited and full of hope for the near future that was gradually appearing before their eyes, marking the complete end of a long, challenging but also meaningful journey that they had walked through together.

One evening, Khoa suddenly sent Yen a short video of him practicing speaking a Vietnamese sentence with a slurred accent mixed with the local intonation he had just learned from a few Vietnamese colleagues participating in the program. "I love my fiancée very much," he said, trying to pronounce correctly even though it was still a bit awkward, making Yen laugh out loud right in the middle of the duty room.

She sent the video back to Minh Thu, and they both burst out laughing at the loveliness and sincerity in every little effort that Khoa made for her even though they were half a world away. "That guy really knows how to make you melt," Minh Thu teased, unable to hide her jealousy mixed with joy for her friend.

Small, simple moments like that gradually become a valuable source of motivation, helping Yen become more steadfast throughout the busy days in her new role, and also help her count down each day with increasing excitement, towards the moment Khoa returns, and the two officially enter a new chapter of their lives.

She posted a small calendar next to her desk, and every night before leaving the duty room, she stopped to cross out a day that had passed, as a small private ritual that helped her feel more clearly that the gap between the present and the day of reunion was gradually narrowing with each passing beat of time.