Chapter 139
By the afternoon, the clinic had noticeably become busier.
The hallway filled with the sounds of restless footsteps and hushed conversations deliberately kept low.
Ethan immersed himself in work, and before long, the "corporate woman" from the morning had completely slipped from his mind.
He had just finished treating his previous patient and was finally about to take a short breather when another familiar knock sounded at the door.
Normally, after each consultation, Helen always left him a few minutes to organize records, wash his hands, drink some water, and mentally reset before the next patient.
But this time, apparently, there wasn't time for that.
"Come in."
The door opened only slightly.
Helen stood at the entrance without stepping inside.
"There's a patient," she said. "Her symptoms are relatively urgent. I already did a preliminary assessment—she shouldn't continue waiting."
She paused briefly before adding,
"It's not the kind of emergency that requires the ER, but… she should probably be seen now."
Ethan nodded immediately.
"Alright. Send her in."
A moment later, the examination room door opened again.
Three people entered.
Leading them was a girl in her early twenties.
She walked very slowly, her eyes almost never leaving the floor.
Every step seemed carefully controlled, as though she were devoting all her concentration to maintaining some fragile balance.
The two people behind her were clearly her parents.
Her mother instinctively hovered a hand near her arm, ready to support her at any moment, while her father's expression remained visibly tense.
"Doctor," the mother spoke first. There was no uncertainty in her voice—only certainty and exhaustion. "It's vertigo caused by displaced ear crystals."
Ethan nodded.
Inside the inner ear exists a delicate and fragile balance system.
The otoconia—tiny calcium carbonate crystals—normally sit where they belong, helping the body sense gravity and linear motion.
But once those crystals become dislodged and drift into the semicircular canals responsible for sensing rotation, even the slightest head movement can completely trick the brain into believing the world is spinning.
Ethan looked at the girl carefully.
There was no obvious pain on her face.
Instead, there was a kind of tension usually seen in people who had spent too long being controlled by their symptoms.
The expression of someone constantly trying not to "trigger something."
"How long has this been happening?" he asked.
"Almost three years," the girl answered softly.
"The first time happened while I was running. I bent down to tie my shoe, and when I stood back up…"
"…everything started spinning."
She paused before continuing.
"After that, it kept happening over and over."
"We've been to countless hospitals," her father continued. "Every repositioning treatment works quickly at first, but after some time, it always comes back."
The girl gave a faint, helpless smile.
"At this point, I basically know exactly how to make myself dizzy."
Ethan looked at her.
"Like what?"
"Rolling over too quickly."
"Tilting my head back too suddenly."
"Or turning my head to a certain angle while sleeping."
She gestured vaguely in the air.
"I can even roughly tell it's the left posterior semicircular canal."
Her tone was strangely calm—
as though the triggers for her attacks had become everyday common knowledge.
At this stage, she not only understood what caused the episodes, she had developed a fear response embedded deep into muscle memory itself.
This was no longer ordinary positional vertigo.
Ethan nodded without looking surprised.
"Recurrent dislodgement-type BPPV."
He explained calmly,
"For most people, the ear crystals are basically glued into place."
"But your fixation system is unstable."
"For others, the crystals are secured firmly."
"For you, it's more like they're sitting loosely on a tray."
"They slip out easily."
The girl blinked.
This doctor was… unusually blunt.
Her mother immediately leaned forward.
"Is there still anything that can be done?"
"We've seen so many doctors. They all say the same thing—there's no guarantee it won't come back. At best, we can hope for a few months or maybe a few years without recurrence."
"But now it's happening more and more often."
"Yes," Ethan said, unsurprised.
"Because the system itself has become increasingly unstable."
He paused before glancing toward her parents.
"You've probably already looked into surgery risks too, right?"
The father, who had remained mostly silent until now, finally spoke.
"We have."
"Posterior semicircular canal occlusion surgery… or selective vestibular nerve section."
"Either seal the canal entirely…"
"…or cut part of the vestibular nerve."
He exhaled heavily.
"Every doctor advised against it."
"They said it meant taking permanent risks to solve a condition that isn't technically life-threatening."
"They told us it's better to adapt and manage it."
"But now she lives like she's made of glass…"
"…and it still happens."
"I understand." Ethan nodded gently before gesturing toward the examination bed.
"Let's deal with the current episode first."
The repositioning direction was identified quickly.
Ethan's movements remained calm and steady.
"You're about to feel dizzy again for around thirty seconds."
"I know." The girl closed her eyes. "Go ahead."
The moment her eyes shut, the world flipped upside down again.
That familiar spinning sensation returned—
the nauseating whirl she had grown sick of over the years.
Her stomach churned.
Her body instinctively wanted to grab onto something.
But throughout it all, Ethan's voice remained steady beside her.
"Don't move."
"Good."
"Just a little longer."
Then suddenly—
the spinning weakened sharply.
As though something inside the fluid-filled canals had finally stopped crashing around.
A few minutes later, she sat upright again.
This time, she didn't instinctively reach for support.
She blinked several times.
"…It's gone."
Ethan nodded.
"The crystals are back where they belong."
Her parents visibly relaxed almost at the same moment.
The tension in the girl's shoulders loosened too.
But Ethan wasn't finished yet.
He gently pressed a hand against her shoulder for a moment.
The healing spell was suppressed to an extremely subtle level—
barely perceptible.
Like a faint current of warmth moving quietly through the vestibular nerves, smoothing away the remaining chaotic signals.
"I gave your system a little buffer," he explained.
"Go home and get some sleep."
"When you wake up tomorrow, live normally."
The girl looked up hesitantly.
"Is there anything I still need to avoid, doctor?"
"Besides the things I already know…"
"…is there some special method to prevent it from happening again?"
"No," Ethan answered directly.
"You can forget all those habits you trained yourself into."
"Just live normally."
The girl clearly didn't process that immediately.
"…What?"
"Your vertigo shouldn't come back again," Ethan said calmly.
"If you return next time, it'll probably be for something else."
She still looked doubtful.
Sitting at the edge of the bed, she didn't stand immediately.
Instead, she lowered her head slightly—
as though waiting for the dizziness to suddenly return.
"You can test it right now," Ethan said.
The girl looked up uncertainly.
"Right now?"
"Yes." Ethan's tone remained calm. "You said you already know exactly how to make yourself dizzy, right?"
"Well, you're in a clinic right now. If anything happens, we can reposition the crystals again immediately."
She hesitated briefly before nodding.
The first attempt was extremely cautious.
She tilted her head slightly to the left.
Then froze.
Holding her breath.
One second.
Two seconds.
Nothing happened.
The second time, she increased the movement.
A full turn of the head.
Pause.
Return to center.
Still nothing.
She looked back at Ethan, confusion beginning to appear in her eyes.
"Keep going," Ethan said.
The third time, she became bolder.
Head down.
Head up.
Roll to one side.
Roll back again.
She stood there stiffly for two seconds.
Then suddenly—
she became reckless.
On the fourth attempt, she practically did it on purpose.
A sharp turn of the head.
A quick bow downward.
Tilting her face toward the ceiling.
She even spun halfway around in place.
As though provoking the enemy that had tormented her for three years.
No dizziness.
Still nothing.
She froze there in complete disbelief.
Then, in the next second, her expression completely changed.
It was the look of someone suddenly realizing—
there really could be a day where no matter how hard she tried…
…she simply couldn't make herself dizzy anymore.
"I…"
"I really…"
"…can't get dizzy anymore?"
"Yes." Ethan nodded. "You can't."
Her eyes instantly lit up.
Not ordinary happiness.
It was the exhilaration of someone who had been restrained for years and had suddenly regained freedom.
"So I can really…"
"…move my head however I want now?"
She asked it again, almost unable to believe it.
"At least for now," Ethan replied. "Go home and observe for—"
Before he even finished speaking—
the girl suddenly rushed toward him.
Fast enough that she no longer resembled the cautious patient who had barely dared to raise her head earlier.
Ethan didn't even have time to step back.
Smack.
A quick—
but surprisingly forceful—
kiss landed against his cheek.
The air instantly froze.
The girl herself froze first.
Then, as realization finally hit her, her entire face flushed bright red.
"I-I'm sorry!"
"I just—I was too happy!"
She practically jumped backward several steps, stumbling over her words.
"I didn't mean it like that! I just…"
"…I haven't dared move my head freely in such a long time…"
Ethan stood there calmly.
No anger.
No panic.
He simply raised a hand and lightly brushed his fingertips across the side of his face.
"Emotional release," he said evenly.
"Understandable."
He glanced at her before adding calmly,
"But next time, don't thank a doctor like this just because your illness got cured."
"If every patient did that, it would start interfering with why I became a doctor in the first place."
The girl nodded furiously, almost snapping her neck from how hard she was nodding.
Nearby, her parents had completely lost the ability to speak.
Her mother's eyes were red.
Her father had already turned away, pretending to look out the window.
The girl took a deep breath and slowly straightened herself.
This time, her head lifted naturally.
No more cautious movements.
No more fear.
It was as though she had finally reclaimed ownership of her own body again.