Resident Playbook: Episodes 5-6 » Dramabeans

Resident Playbook: Episodes 5-6

by DaebakGrits

Time is passing, and our first-year residents are adjusting to their hectic schedules and to each other. Most of them are showing a lot of growth, but like a video game that gets increasingly difficult the more a player levels up, the challenges our residents face also evolve and adapt to teach them new skills.

EPISODES 5-6

Last week we ended our story with Jae-il convincing his fellow first-year residents to join him for a meal. Well, after a small time skip, it seems like our social butterfly has gotten even more than he’d initially hoped for: a full blown department dinner. There’s plenty of alcohol to go around and it makes an already blunt Yi-young more loose-lipped than usual. In fact, Yi-young indulges in a little too much soju and divulges the new nicknames she and her fellow residents have cooked up for their professors — something she deeply regrets the next morning when she remembers her slip up and and is ordered by Professor “Twenty Questions” Seo to compile 20 more cases for her latest research assignment.

Yi-young’s day goes from bad to frustrating when a nurse calls her in to take over for an intern who’s struggling. Because she’s already stressed without having to cover an intern, she lets her frustration get the better of her and scolds the intern in front of a patient, which earns her a lecture from Do-won. She should have taken the intern aside to reprimand him privately. Now, his reputation has tanked among the patients, and none of them want the intern to treat them.

Although it must have been upsetting to be on the receiving end of her crush’s stern dressing-down, Yi-young brushes it off. As she explains to a repentant Do-won later, he has nothing to apologize for because she deserved to be scolded. Do-won is impressed by her maturity, but he’s immediately guilt-ridden again when Yi-young reminds him that it’s her birthday. He offers to buy her anything, but instead of a physical gift, she asks him to grant one wish: for the duration of their elevator ride up to their apartment, he has to agree to everything she says. First she asks for dinner and then to see a movie together, and, while he agrees to both, he twists his concessions so that they are completely unromantic.

With both her previous requests foiled and their floor approaching quickly, Yi-young asks him directly, “Can I like you?” There’s a moment of silence. Then he answers, “Okay” — but before Yi-young can get excited, he tacks on: “if you want things to get awkward between us.” Well, damn. That had to sting, but realistically, it’s understandable that Do-won would be cautious about returning her feelings — especially if, prior to her confession, he’d never thought about her that way. Not only would a relationship with her be a potential conflict of interest at work, they’re in-laws who live together, which would make things hella awkward if they didn’t work out as a romantic couple. But, regardless of the obvious hurdles, I’m still hopeful that this ship will set sail. After all, Yi-young wouldn’t be the first Yulje girlie to get rejected by her crush the first time she confessed, and perhaps it’s even a bit fortuitous that our first major Hospital Playlist cameo was Min-ha.

After her elevator confession, there are some subtle signs that Do-won is avoiding her, but Yi-young doesn’t let her disappointment affect her work. This week, she’s heavily involved in the care of two cancer patients. One, is the mother of a 10-year-old girl who has seemingly matured beyond her years after being at her mother’s side throughout the various stages of her cancer treatment and repeated hospital visits. Contrastingly, the other woman is the mother of a 10-year-old boy who acts more childlike because he doesn’t quite understand the gravity of his mother’s situation.

While Girl Mom is receiving treatment to increase her white blood cell count so she can begin chemotherapy, Boy Mom is anxiously waiting to have her tumor removed, worrying that she’ll have an adverse reaction to the anesthesia and not wake up after her surgery. Yi-young assures her that they do many tests prior to the surgery to rule out any potential complications, but she also swears that she will call out her name loudly post-surgery to wake her up. Yi-young does as she promised, and while Boy Mom wakes up in a panic, she’s otherwise alive and out of danger for the time being.

Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for Girl Mom, who had to be intubated after having a pulmonary embolism. She is not expected to live much longer, and Yi-young is tasked with explaining to Girl Mom’s daughter that she’s about to pass away. Despite the little girl’s touted maturity, she’s still just an innocent 10-year old, and having witnessed her mother rebound from health emergencies numerous times, she struggles to believe that this time is any different. Yi-young gently coaxes the little girl into accepting the truth, and as Yi-young explains what will happen next, we gradually come to realize that she is speaking from her own experience. Yi-young’s mother passed away when she was in middle school, and as a result, she knows exactly what to say to the little girl in front of her.

Prior to this scene, I’d already grown to appreciate Yi-young’s character and was quite fond of her apathy and bluntness, but her soft-but-direct approach as she methodically told the little girl what to expect at the funeral and then explained to her that it was alright for her to cry and grieve her mother’s death — umph, my heart. I was so moved by this scene that I was actually kind of annoyed when AHN JUNG-WON (cameo by Yoo Yeon-seok) showed up (for the second time, after a brief appearance during the department dinner earlier in the episode) as a representative from the foundation that had been supporting Girl Mom. (Like, excuse me, Drama, give a lady a moment to wipe her tears and fix her mascara before serving up some more dreamy fanservice.)

Although Episode 5 was heavily loaded with Yi-young’s scenes, that doesn’t mean the other first-year residents weren’t around. Jae-il, in fact, got quite a bit of screen time because, well, he lacks confidence and on multiple occasions had to call in more experienced doctors to check behind him because he doubted his own abilities. His lack of confidence, Do-won explains to him, placed an unnecessary burden on Eun-mi and Da-hye, who are already stressed and busy. In short, Jae-il became a burden to his sunbaes.

However, even Jae-il’s excessive cautiousness has its place at Yulje, as shown when he meets a patient who makes frequent — and unnecessary — visits to the hospital for ultrasounds. While the other doctors have grown exasperated by the woman who cries wolf womb-pain, Jae-il’s attentiveness and through examination technique puts the anxious mother-to-be at ease. So much so that when she returns for her regularly scheduled appointment, she’s not actually worrying that he will find anything troubling on the ultrasound. But, of course, that’s when Jae-il’s excessive practice and hyper-vigilance comes in clutch. He notices an issue with the baby’s umbilical cord — nothing life threatening, but it prompts Professor Seo to schedule a C-section to deliver the slightly premature baby to avoid future complications.

Sadly, while Jae-il is proving that he’s extremely skilled despite his lack of confidence, tension is brewing between Nam-kyung and Sa-bi because, well, they’re polar opposites. Sa-bi follows the rule book and is extremely literal and professional, and Nam-kyung is a bit self-centered, overly preoccupied with her on-again-off-again boyfriend, and prone to gossiping about her colleagues (re: Sa-bi) with her patients. After Sa-bi and Nam-kyung both fail to visit a patient post-procedure because neither of them thought they were responsible due to the shift change time, things sort of quietly snowball with them bickering over little things, like their on-call schedules, dietary preferences, and time-off requests.

Eventually, after disagreeing with Do-won’s advice to just “accept” Nam-kyung as she is, Sa-bi decides to speak with Nam-kyung. At first, Nam-kyung’s defenses are up because Sa-bi opens by pointing out the most recent ways Nam-kyung failed in various matters, but Sa-bi ends by apologizing to Nam-kyung for being so stubborn about the shift-change issue. Instead of arguing with Nam-kyung, she could have gone and spoken with the patient. Then, in response, Nam-kyung apologizes for talking about Sa-bi behind her back, but, to add a little humor to the moment, Sa-bi indicates that she thought Nam-kyung had been gossiping about Yi-young and calling her robot. (Pfft. As if!)

Meanwhile, Yi-young has been assigned an expectant mother with placenta previa, a pregnancy complication that (according to Google) “can lead to life-threatening bleeding during pregnancy and delivery,” and, as Yi-young explains to her patient and her very doting husband, if the bleeding cannot be stopped, then Professor Kong might need to remove the mother’s uterus. Although Yi-young explained these details to the mother and father ahead of the delivery, when the mother goes into labor, the father hesitates — until Yi-young emphasizes the urgency — to sign the consent form to remove the mother’s uterus.

At first, he just seems like a distraught man struggling to make a decision in a high-intensity moment, but, uh, that is very much not the case. You see, as Yi-young, Do-won, and the nurse are wheeling the mother out of the operating room — you know after successfully delivering a baby girl and successfully saving the mom’s life and uterus — the husband, up hearing his wife’s uterus is still intact, has the audacity to suggest they start trying for a boy in a couple of months. She could have literally died, and her husband wants her to try again. For a boy. Ugh.

Thankfully, the show and our characters share my opinion on this matter because the new mother, too tired to say what needs to be said, leans over to whisper in Yi-young’s ear. And Yi-young, her proud emissary happily unleashes a stream of explicit curses at the new father — totally on behalf of her patient, of course. So satisfying. Even more so, the look on Do-won’s face. No lie, I think this will be the moment he later claims he fell in love with her.

Then again, maybe his “I’m falling for you” moment occurs slightly later, when Yi-young stands up for Do-won against the evil Eun-won. You see, Do-won co-authored a paper with Eun-won, but the sneaky little b***h submitted it with her name as the only lead author and took all the glory when their research won a prize. Do-won who, per his earlier conversation with Sa-bi, seems resigned to accept Eun-won as being a nasty narcissist and move on with his life, but Yi-young, who has silently witnessed Eun-won’s deviousness twice, takes a stand. Well, as much as she can, given that Eun-won is her superior. So, instead of unleashing another epically censored string of curse words, Yi-young points out the fact that Eun-won has not apologized for “accidentally” stealing credit for their work.

Although I would have preferred to see Yi-young curse out Eun-won, I will settle for the slight shift in the Yi-young x Do-won dynamic. You see, after Yi-young came to his defense, Do-won expresses his worry that she’ll become the target of Eun-won’s bullying (again), but Yi-young is unfazed because she’ll “just quit” if things get tough. Instead, she’s more concerned about how much of a pushover, and just thinking about the injustice against him has her so pissed she begins reciting the string of curses she’d yelled out on behalf of her patient.

As she reaches the end of her swearing, Do-won muses that she must not like him any more. Afterall, who would use such vibrant vocabulary in front of someone that they like? Uh, me, but I’m not alone because Yi-young immediately corrects Do-won’s misconception. “I still like you. I’m someone who still curses in front of people I like.” And apparently, Do-won isn’t turned off by a lady with a sailor’s mouth because he asks her say “that” again, and by “that” he means Yi-young’s patient’s colorful monologue — not, as Yi-young had initially thought, her earlier request for permission to like him. And yeah, I say that’s further proof he fell for Yi-young when she chewed out her patient’s husband. (Hah!)

Once again, Resident Playbook delivered a solid pair of episodes, but this time there was an undercurrent of sadness to both of them. It begins with Yi-young’s soulful and touching perspective on the loss of her mother, and how — years later — she still wakes up, thinking that she hears her mother calling her to breakfast. The brief feeling of normalcy is then followed by a crushing disappointment that brings Yi-young to tears when she enters the empty living room and remembers that her mother is gone. Yi-young’s grief for her mother transitions into a different kind of grief — the grief a woman feels when she cannot conceive — as our story explores Yi-young’s older sister’s struggle with infertility.

Joo-young has been trying for a while — without any success — to have a child. Her husband (and Do-wo’s brother) GU SEUNG-WON (Jung Soon-won) is extremely supportive, and, unlike the “doting” husband of Yi-young’s patient, he does not appear to be placing any sort of pressure Joo-young to have a child. Instead, her desire to be a mother is her own, and as such it seems tragically poetic that she’s alone, without Seung-won, when she gets the call from the doctor, who explains that none of the embryos for her latest IVF treatment survived long enough for implantation. Although she’s physically sore from her latest procedure, she cries from a different kind of pain.

Even though I was brought to tears more times than I would have liked, I can’t complain too much about the double-punch to my feelings because Yi-young and Joo-young’s grief were beautiful (but sad) bookends for these episodes. Death is thematically often paired with rebirth, and while there have been plenty of babies born on this show, it was interesting to see it directly death paired with the absence of conception and birth. Literary themes aside, though, I would love to see the topic of adoption brought up in a future episode, but given how clearly Joo-young is longing for the physical experience of carrying her child, I’m not sure if that will happen.

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