UNKNOWN GUEST

#46 good Luck and Bad Luck

Dr. Cho's eyes were fixed on the monitors connected to the scanner, tracking the progress of my wound. She nodded with a thoughtful expression. "The inner layers look like they're healing well. I'm still amazed by the rate of cell regeneration," she remarked, her voice tinged with both admiration and surprise.

With a soft sigh, she disconnected the tubes from the machine. I carefully swung my legs over the edge of the bed and grasped the arm of my robo-chair to support myself as I tried to stand. As I maneuvered into the chair, a sharp jolt of pain made me wince, and I let out a small yelp.

Dr. Cho's gaze was sharp as she glanced over at me, her concern evident. "Careful. Don't strain it or you might end up making things worse," she advised, her tone a mix of professional concern and gentle reprimand.

I forced a smile, trying to downplay the discomfort. "Understood, ma'am."

She then surveyed the room, her eyes briefly lingering on the medical equipment before she settled into a chair across from me. There was a moment of silence before she spoke up. "Ms. Johana was really worried about you. She mentioned how you'd be handling everything on your own," she said, her voice reflecting a hint of empathy.

I shook my head, trying to reassure her. "I'll be fine in a couple of days."

Dr. Cho raised an eyebrow, her skepticism apparent. "You might need three more weeks."

Although I was confident I'd heal sooner, I couldn't help but worry if she would be suspicious about my recovery. I nodded in agreement, "Understood, ma'am."

Dr. Cho rolled her eyes, a gesture that revealed her frustration or exhaustion. Today was Nurse Johana's last day. Johana had been a consistent presence during my treatment, and her departure added an air of finality to the atmosphere.

I took a deep breath and decided to ask, "How are things going in your hospital?"

Dr. Cho went quiet for a moment, her gaze dropping to the floor. "You're my last patient," she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper.

My eyes widened in surprise. "What do you mean?" I asked, feeling a knot of concern tightening in my chest.

She let out a long sigh, meeting my gaze briefly before looking away again. "Yeah. You're my last assignment. I've already gotten the notification. I'm getting laid off," she explained, her voice carrying a note of resignation.

I felt a pang of sympathy, unsure of what else to say.

Dr. Cho continued, her tone heavy with frustration. "It's really tough for someone in my field to find another job after getting laid off during the probation period. It's like having a negative grade on your record. Post-probation layoffs are the worst. They make it incredibly hard to get hired anywhere else."

Her eyes seemed to lose their usual spark, the weight of her situation evident. "So, basically, I'll be jobless in two weeks," she said, her voice flat and defeated.

I sighed, feeling a wave of helplessness wash over me. "What are you planning to do?" I asked, hoping there was some light at the end of this tunnel.

She swallowed, a visible lump moving down her throat before she replied, "My profile is floating around the medical institutions like a Facebook joke. So, I'm almost sure I won't get a job in any hospital. I don't have many options left. So... I'll try to get into some college lab or something."

No, I thought to myself, now is not the time to give up. You're going to become a world-renowned tissue engineering expert, and then you'll be appointed at the best medical university around here. It's just not the right time yet. Uncle Tony hasn't gotten any response from the recommendations he sent out, but I can't let her lose hope now. She has more time.

I tried to encourage her, "Come on, Dr. Cho. You need to try more—"

But she cut me off, her voice filled with resignation. "Not anymore. Where I work now, they treat me like I'm invisible. As if I stink. And I've had enough of it. I... I-I'm quitting."

No! Panic surged through me, and I tried to protest, "Dr. Cho, don't rush this decision. Think about it. I don't think being a doctor was just a hobby for you. It feels like it's your dream, your passion. You can't give up on it. Not yet. Not now."

She shook her head, a weary look in her eyes. "I'm tired. I've always carried a ton of bad luck."

A heavy silence settled between us, thick with unspoken thoughts. I knew I had to break it, so I ventured cautiously, "So, do you believe in luck?"

Dr. Cho sighed deeply, her gaze drifting to some distant point. "I don't, but... I can feel the presence of bad luck, especially."

I thought back to the music I'd heard her listening to on her headphones the other day. Maybe there was a way to connect with her, to lift her spirits. I decided to take a shot. "Dr. Cho? Are you a fan of EXO?"

She paused, her eyes narrowing slightly as she looked at me, clearly surprised. "How do you know that?"

I couldn't help but smile. "So, you're an EXO fangirl."

Her eyebrows lifted in mild disbelief, but I kept my gaze steady, knowing that this was the moment to make her see things differently. "If you believe only in bad luck, then let me offer you some good luck. 'Growl,' 'Overdose'—they're going to become global hits. By the end of this year, EXO will get the MAMA award."

She stared at me, her expression a mix of skepticism and amusement. "EXO will become a global hit? Although I like them, they hit rock bottom last year in Korea itself. How are they going to end up winning MAMA?"

I leaned forward slightly, my tone firm but encouraging. "Luck, Dr. Cho. You say bad luck has been holding you back, but believe me when I tell you, EXO is about to create a storm in the pop industry. And who knows? Maybe you'll even get a chance to go to one of their concerts."

She rolled her eyes, her disbelief evident. "Do you know what percentage of people worldwide speak Korean? Barely 1.1%. And you think EXO will cause a global sensation? Nice joke."

Her doubt only fueled my determination. I was really, really offended. I wasn't about to back down. "Really? Well, how about this—when '12 Years a Slave' wins the Oscar, are you inviting me to watch it with you?"

Her eyes widened in surprise at my confidence. She hadn't expected me to be so sure of myself. Clearing her throat, she tried to regain control of the conversation. "Okay, deal. The movie will be my treat then. Oscar awards are in 25 days. But if your prediction is wrong?"

I smiled, leaning back in my chair. "Rather, if my prediction is right, you won't quit your dream. Agree?"

She hesitated, clearly torn. "I can't bet my life's decision on a prediction."

I chuckled softly, knowing I had her hooked. "Then bet it on your bad luck. If my prediction turns out wrong, it's just more bad luck. But if it turns out right, it's the start of your good luck—the first of many. What do you think?"

She didn't respond immediately. Instead, she stood up, grabbed her bag, and headed for the door. As she reached it, I couldn't resist calling after her, "'Overdose' is my favorite!"

She didn't say anything, just walked out, but I could tell she was thinking about it. Deep down, I knew she wanted to believe my prediction would come true. And I was confident that it would.