Chapter 7 — The White Coat Oath

While Khoa was still struggling with the decision to face his teacher, hospital life continued at a relentless pace. One afternoon, the Emergency Department received three consecutive emergency cases at the same time - a series of traffic collisions that injured many people.

Yen, along with the entire team on duty that day, rushed into the process of non-stop handling. She quickly classified the severity of each patient, and directed other doctors and nurses to treat the patient in the appropriate order of priority.

"This patient needs to be transferred immediately to the Department of Surgery, suspected pelvic fracture and blunt abdominal trauma!" Yen shouted loudly, still constantly checking vital signs.

Faculty appeared soon after, called down to assist with a few other resident doctors from the Department of Surgery. In that emergency situation, all personal tensions and hesitations were temporarily put aside, giving way to absolute focus on the work of saving lives.

"You handle this case, I'll take care of the other case," Khoa said briefly, without any further explanation, the two understood each other with just one look.

During the next two hours, the whole team worked non-stop, coordinating smoothly between departments to treat each patient in turn. There were moments of breathtaking tension — a patient suddenly dropped in blood pressure while waiting to be transferred to the operating room, forcing the team to quickly administer fluids, raise the foot of the bed, and stabilize the condition on the spot before they could continue moving. But thanks to the good coordination built over many weeks of working together, Yen and Khoa and their team overcame that challenge smoothly.

Finally, the condition of all patients was stabilized, and cases requiring surgery were transferred to the corresponding operating rooms in the correct order of priority. When everything calmed down, Yen and Khoa both sat down on the chairs in the break room, sweat still wet on their foreheads, their uniforms wrinkled after many hours of continuous stressful work.

"It's been a long day," Khoa sighed, leaning his head back on the chair.

"It's even longer if you include what's waiting for us," Yen replied, handing him a bottle of water.

Khoa took it, drank deeply, and was silent for a moment before speaking. "I have decided. I will meet Dr. Phat this weekend."

Yen sat up straight and looked at him intently. "Are you sure?"

"I can't delay any longer," Khoa said, his voice steady although still a little shaky. "Every day that passes, I think about the possibility that there are many other patients in danger that we have not yet discovered. I cannot let personal fear hinder my responsibility as a doctor."

"Do you want me to come with you?" Yen asked, ready to accompany him if needed.

Khoa thought for a moment, then shook his head slightly. "I think, for the first time, I need to face the teacher myself. This is my own teacher-student relationship, I need to be the one to ask questions directly. But I will tell you everything right after that."

Yen nodded, respecting that decision, even though she couldn't help but worry about what Khoa was about to go through. "Okay. But if you need anything, even in the middle of the night, just call me."

"I'll remember that," Khoa replied, gently squeezing her hand one more time before they both had to return to the hectic work of the unfinished shift. "Thank you for understanding and respecting how I want to handle this."

"I understand," Yen smiled slightly, although her eyes still held a hint of worry that was hard to hide. "This is something you need to do on your own, and I believe you will do well."

"Thank you," Khoa said, a gentle, albeit tired, smile appearing on his lips. "With you here, I feel brave enough to do what needs to be done, even though before I would have hesitated forever on my own to act."

The remaining days before the weekend passed in quiet tension. Khoa still completed all his professional tasks well, but Yen could clearly see the unusual contemplation in his eyes every time he encountered Dr. Phat in the hospital hallway.

As for Dr. Phat, it seemed he also sensed something different in the attitude of the student he had always trusted. During a faculty meeting, he stayed to ask Khoa a brief question.

"You seem stressed lately. Is something wrong?"

Khoa paused for a second, trying to keep a normal expression. "No, it's nothing, it's just that my schedule is too busy so I'm a little tired."

Dr. Phat looked at him for a long time, his eyes complicated and difficult to read, then nodded and did not ask any more questions. "Remember to take care of your health. If you have anything to share, just find me."

That statement made Khoa even more torn. The sincere concern in his teacher's voice made it even more difficult for him to reconcile the image of his respected teacher who always knew him and the painful truth waiting to be revealed.

That evening, Khoa found Yen in the emergency room and recounted his brief conversation with Dr. Phat. "I feel like I'm betraying my teacher," he said, his voice full of torment.

Yen sat down next to him, holding Khoa's hand. "You didn't betray anyone, Khoa. You're doing exactly what a conscientious doctor should do. If Dr. Phat is really a good person like you believe, he will understand the reason behind your actions."

"I hope you're right," Khoa sighed, leaning his head on Yen's shoulder in a rare moment of weakness. "I'm just afraid, after this, the relationship between me and you will never be the same again."

"That may be true," Yen admitted, not wanting to offer empty words of comfort. "But sometimes, truly meaningful relationships can overcome even the most difficult challenges. If Dr. Phat truly appreciates you as a student, he will not blame you for doing the right thing."

Khoa remained silent, letting those words slowly sink into his heart, clearly feeling the warmth and reassurance that Yen's presence brought amid these turbulent days.

On Friday night, before his private appointment with Dr. Phat on Saturday morning, Khoa called his father, even though he didn't intend to tell everything, he just wanted to hear a familiar voice to calm his mind.

"Is something wrong with you?" Associate Professor Truong asked as soon as he noticed his son's strange tone on the phone.

"It's nothing, Dad," Khoa replied, trying to keep his voice normal. "I just wanted to ask about my parents."

Mr. Truong was silent for a moment, as if he did not completely believe that explanation, but did not ask further questions. "If there's anything, just tell me. No matter what, I'm always here."

"I know," Khoa replied, his voice choked up a bit. "Thank you, dad."

"How have you been working with Dr. Phat lately?" Mr. Truong asked further, a question that seemed unintentional but made Khoa pause for a moment. "I heard that the Department of Surgery is having a hard time these days."

"It's okay," Khoa replied, trying to keep his voice as normal as possible, even though his heart was beating much faster. "Teacher is still dedicated to guiding you as always."

"Good," Mr. Truong replied, not realizing the abnormality in his son's voice. "Dr. Phat is a good doctor, it's good for me to learn many things from him."

Khoa did not respond immediately, but just hummed through the matter, his heart becoming even heavier at the prospect of having to face the truth that could shake the good image that even his father had for that respected teacher.

The call ended, Khoa sat quietly alone in the room, looking out the dark window, mentally preparing for the most difficult conversation in his young medical career that would take place in just a few hours.

He reopened the file of documents he had prepared with Yen and Nghia over the past few days - a printout of the problematic file pages, Mrs. Tam's X-ray results, a list of seven suspected cases and notes about the matching duty schedule. Each page, even though it's just numbers and dry notes, carries the weight of a truth that can completely change the lives of many people.

Khoa neatly folded the documents, put them in his bag, then sat down at his desk, trying to write down what he wanted to say to the teacher tomorrow morning. He wrote, erased, and rewrote many times, unable to find an expression that was both respectful and straightforward enough to fully convey what needed to be said.

Finally, he closed the notebook, telling himself that perhaps there was no perfect way to phrase a conversation like this. The most important thing is sincerity, and the belief that you are doing the right thing, no matter how difficult the road ahead is.