Destined With You or The Mystical Healthcare System of South Korea

I hear you.
The end of DWY is… well, think of a lovely drink. You’ve brewed the coffee to a nice temperature. It smells absolutely delicious inside the kitchen.

Secondary voice
In truth, it doesn’t, I hate the smell of coffee.

Third voice
Why are you even saying that? What cares, Cecee, who cares?

Anyway back to black… coffee. You make it Starbucks style, with a shoot of Pumpkin Spice and some nice frothy milk. Starbucks without the price tag. And then for some reason, you absent-mindedly pour it down the sink before drinking it, and all that is left for you to do is to try to lick the last few drops off the sink.

Secondary voice
I get it. This is where pumpkin spiced coffee latte belongs. Down the sink.

This is essentially what DWY felt to me. The story was pretty much done by episode 14, and then, they poured it down the sink and tried to pad up as much as they could. But, this is great because we get to see more of the SK healthcare system in action. And how fun is that, I ask you?

Secondary voice
I ask but you don’t have to answer. That’s what I’ll be talking about here anyway.

Let me take you back to the start of DWY where Shin-yu receives his tragic diagnosis: A chromosome mutation that could seriously affect his future, ranging from loss of sensation in the extremities to the loss of language.

Secondary voice
Well that sounds fun.

But what can we do about it?
Absolutely fuck-all says the doctor.

Secondary voice
Doctor, where did you get that medical licence, if I may ask?

Third voice
STOP. Suspend disbelief, Cecee, and roll with it. This is dramaland.

We can’t change your chromosomes, mate.
You’re doomed, the doctor concludes.

Sure… Let’s not think about possible treatments that could monitor his progress, prevent further deteriorations, or just… I don’t know, perhaps just providing some level of healthcare services?

But don’t worry, the healthcare pros will prove they were playing the long game and come in to surprise us later on.

I give you exhibit A
Shin-yu has just been stabbed. He is found by Hong-jo.

Let me refer to my little notes. Hong-jo shows us precisely what you are supposed to do to save a life in SK.

1. Throw your phone away at once
2. Approach the dying victim cautiously
3. Poke the gaping wound
4. Poke it some more but with passion and tears for now
5. Wail helplessly
6. Tell the almost dead person who’s been losing another litre of blood in the meantime not to die (it’s important, they might forget)
7. Cry
8. Cry some more
9. Poke that wound a little more for fun
10. Wail
11. Wail
12. Still wailing
13. Do not, I repeat DO NOT under any circumstances call an ambulance
14. Just to make sure you won’t be calling for help, throw that phone further down the stairs
15. Paint your newly invented warrior marks with their blood on your face

Take note. These are the exact 15 steps that will get an ambulance to come and gather the stabby-bloody victim and take them to the hospital. We’ve seen it. It works for Shin-yu.

Not convinced? You’ll change your mind once you see exhibit B.

I give you exhibit B
This is Hong-jo’s turn to be found passed out in the woods by the police.

There could be a fantastic rant about Hong-jo’s level of misplaced self-confidence.

“I had to catch you,” she says, completely defenceless and trapped, to her stalker/kidnapper/potential future murderer, having watched one Jacky Chang film and being convinced that she too can kick asses with her cute little heels.

Secondary voice
Hong-jo, what the hell?

Nothing is scarier than a tiny, weak woman, tied up like a sausage and about to be unalived. Nothing except literally everything else.

Third voice
I’ve met turnips that were more fearsome.

Secondary voice
It’s okay, it’s only the second time you arrest him, guys.

I think we’ll need to look into the never-filmed scenes to figure out what happened next.

Detective A: “Boss, there’s a woman here!”
Chief Inspector: “Don’t disturb innocent citizens.”
Detective A: “But she’s not moving, Sir.”
Detective B: “She’s probably just sunbathing at night. Some people like it. Less UV rays, you see.”
Detective C: “Personally, I always wear sunscreen, even at night. You can’t be too prudent.”
Detective A: “Sir, what do we do about the woman?”
Chief Inspector: “You’ve heard. She’s sunbathing. Leave her alone.”
Detective A: “But—”
Detective B: “Have you eaten?”
Bad Seed Garden Boy: “There’s a nice jjajangmyeon place on the way back.”
Detective C: “I fancy jjajangmyeon.”
Inspector Chief: “Let’s go, it’s my treat. Except for you, Mister Bad Guy.”
Bad Seed Garden Boy: “Fair enough, I’ll pay for my bowl.”

It is the only explanation I can think of. Why else would they have walked away and left Hong-jo on the ground as if it were the most normal thing in the world?

We get here a shorter method to call an ambulance.
Only 6 points but it still works like a charm.

1. Approach the victim with caution
2. Shake them thoroughly like they are an apple tree and you want all the apples to fall at the same time. (It’s okay if you give them concussion in the process, they are already dying anyway)
3. Scream (If shaking didn’t bring them to life, you need to give decibels a go)
4. Cry
5. Wail until you hear the echo of your own voice
6. Repeat steps 2 to 5 indefinitely

This will make a magical ambulance appear out of thin air. Guaranteed.

I feel other countries have a lot to learn from South Korea when it comes to healthcare. This is the world of the future, the new AI. Ambulance Intelligence.

PS: There may be typos and mistakes. If you find them, you are free to keep them. I don’t care.