The show that wanted to be deep, but tripped over its own punchlines and forgot it was supposed to have substance

TV Drama Name: Doctor Slump

Where To Watch: Netflix ← *Click for direct link*

Average Rating: 8.2/10 (My Drama List)

My Rating: 6.0/10

One Sentence Description: A show about success, failure, and mental illness—except the mental illness part was mostly sidelined for comedy.

Trailer

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Disclaimer: This review is 100% my opinion — I’m not here to hate, just to share my thoughts! Also, SPOILERS AHEAD, so proceed with caution if you haven’t watched yet. Watch it, come back and let’s see if you agree. Let’s keep the discussion respectful and fun! 💕

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WARNING: I hope you’ve already seen this show and know what the deal is. But in case you don’t or whatever the case may be, I felt like I should add in a little warning. This show has mentions of su*cide and heavy mentions of mental health struggles including depression and PTSD. And since this is a review, I do also talk about this (in relation to the show only). Please be aware of that before you continue and be mindful of it. Stay safe ❤️

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Description

Doctor Slump is a story about ex-rivals reconnecting at the lowest points of their lives, leaning on each other as they struggle to pick up the pieces.

The drama kicks off with two defining moments that send their lives spiraling. Yeo Jeong Woo, the male lead, is in the middle of a high-stakes surgery, desperately trying to keep a patient alive. Meanwhile, Nam Ha Neul, the female lead, collapses in the middle of the street—staring blankly at an oncoming truck, seemingly frozen instead of moving to safety. These two seemingly unconnected scenes mark the beginning of their personal collapses.

Cut to 2009. Ha Neul’s hometown is celebrating her academic achievements, but she’s barely paying attention—too consumed with studying. We quickly learn she’s an overachiever who dedicates every single moment to school. Meanwhile, in Seoul, Jeong Woo is just as academically gifted—but way more relaxed about it. After much family drama, Ha Neul’s family moves to Seoul, and she ends up attending the same high school as Jeong Woo. As soon as she enters the picture, Jeong Woo feels threatened. A new academic rivalry is born.

Flash forward to the present: Jeong Woo is a beloved plastic surgeon with a glittering career, while Ha Neul, an anesthesiologist, is stuck in the trenches of medical life—dealing with a toxic boss, pulling endless shifts, and physically deteriorating. This woman is not okay. Despite being sick, she forces herself to go meet a friend. Clearly unwell, she collapses in the middle of the road with a truck barreling toward her. She’s rescued just in time, but the real question is—why didn’t she move when she had the chance?

Meanwhile, Jeong Woo takes on a mysterious new client for surgery, and during the operation, everything goes wrong. Blood everywhere. Machines blaring. The patient dies on the table due to blood loss—an outcome that almost never happens. Suddenly, Jeong Woo is caught in massive controversy, accused of malpractice. He adamantly denies the claims, but the evidence? Not great. The CCTV conveniently cut out during the procedure, and an anticoagulant (a blood thinner that prevents clotting) was found in the trash. It’s looking worse by the second. And Just when you think his situation can’t get messier—it does. His friends turn on him, he’s forced to pay one billion won (about 7.5 million dollars), loses his practice, and now he might even have to pay additional compensation. It’s a full-blown disaster.

Switching back to Ha Neul—who is seriously going through it. After losing a promotion to nepotism, she gets diagnosed with depression due to severe burnout. But instead of processing it, she fully leans into denial, skips her meds, and buys alcohol instead. Hoping for peace and quiet, she heads to her rooftop for a solo pity party… only to immediately come face-to-face with her ex-rival, Jeong Woo.

Cue flashback—how did their rivalry even start? Turns out, after Ha Neul scored higher than him on an exam, Jeong Woo literally passed out, woke up, and decided that beating her would now be his life mission. Back in the present, he explains that due to the mess surrounding his malpractice case, he’s now living in a rooftop shed. (Honestly, tragic.) He tries to find a new place to live, but it’s impossible. Meanwhile, Ha Neul returns to work and continues enduring her garbage boss. But when he botches a basic procedure (failing to insert a catheter), bruises the patient, and then tries to pin it on Ha Neul? She’s done. She kicks him—literally—and quits. Iconic.

Meanwhile, Jeong Woo is meeting with his lawyers, and they finally get some good news—anesthesiologist Kang Jin Seok agrees to testify as a witness! Things are looking up! We also finally get a breather with some lighter moments: Ha Neul casually reveals she likes reading dissertations for fun (??), so Jeong Woo decides to drag her to an arcade for some actual fun.

Just when we start enjoying their cute interactions, things flip again—Jin Seok denies appearing as a witness and even announces that he plans to leave the country. This leaves Jeong Woo’s case hanging by a thread. But then, Ha Neul pulls through—she finds a similar case from India, giving them some hope. Unfortunately, they’ll have to wait for the next hearing, but at least it’s something.

Time passes. Ha Neul is ready to work again and lands an interview for a Chief Anesthesiologist role—miles away. Unfortunately, her past run-in with her previous boss ruins the opportunity. She’s crushed, but the moment hits Jeong Woo like a truck: he realizes he doesn’t want her to leave. He likes her. While visiting Hwabon (the remote town where the interview was), a man suddenly collapses due to a heart attack. Ha Neul and Jeong Woo jump into action—but in the middle of it all, Jeong Woo starts showing signs of a mini-panic attack.

To give us (and the leads) a breather, the focus shifts to the side characters: Ha Neul’s friend, Lee Hong Ran, and Jeong Woo’s senior and friend Bin Dae Yeong. Dae Yeong is struggling to connect with his daughter, accidentally offending her while trying to crack a joke. Meanwhile, Hong Ran is having her own parenting crisis—her son loves collecting insects, but she’s terrified of them. Could the setup for their inevitable bonding be any more obvious?

We’ll get back to them later.

Meanwhile, Ha Neul and Jeong Woo cross paths again at a subway station where an accident has taken place. Something is off, and Ha Neul immediately notices that Jeong Woo is frozen in fear—again. Later, when she visits her mental health clinic, she finds out what’s really going on—Jeong Woo is suffering from PTSD. (Confirmed.)

Time passes, and the third court hearing arrives. Just as they’re about to postpone it, Jeong Woo shows up minutes before the deadline—but he’s not alone. He’s brought Jin Seok.

Plot twist: Jin Seok was the one who’s been stalking Jeong Woo’s, and turns out? He had hidden cameras inside pens that recorded the entire surgery. Why? Because years ago, Jin Seok was made a scapegoat for a fatal medical accident, and ever since, he kept hidden cameras everywhere. The footage finally reveals the truth—two men had intentionally put anticoagulants into the IV, and a nurse was in on it. The mastermind behind it all? The victim’s uncle, who ordered her death so he could take her father’s entire fortune.

Jeong Woo is finally proven innocent.

At last, Jeong Woo is cleared. He’s relieved, yes—but the moment is bittersweet. He’s haunted by the memory of all the friends and colleagues who turned their backs on him. Still, there’s light at the end of the tunnel: he and Ha Neul finally start dating.

…Until they don’t.

Ha Neul finds out Jeong Woo turned down a prestigious job offer just so she wouldn’t feel bad—and that’s not okay with her. She doesn’t want him to hold himself back for her sake. So she breaks up with him. He eventually accepts the position, but struggles to get back into the rhythm of surgery post-incident.

Time passes and eventually, Ha Neul and Jeong Woo find their way back to each other and officially rekindle their relationship. Meanwhile, Hong Ran and Dae Yeong create a “chance card” system—three opportunities each to help the other out, mostly in kid-related emergencies. It’s cute, chaotic, and weirdly effective.

Just when things seemed to be settling, more mystery unfolds.

Jeong Woo’s so-called friend, Kyung Min, turns out to be knee-deep in shady business. Not only that, but he’s a horrible person—he manipulated Ha Neul, stole credit for all her work, and spread nasty rumors about her. When Jeong Woo casually drops that he suspects Kyung Min drugged him once, Ha Neul decides to do some digging. She discovers that Kyung Min is developing a new drug, and without hesitation, she confronts him—straight-up calls him and demands answers. Somehow, she ends up in his car, and as they drive, she lays everything out—every shady detail she’s uncovered. He’s rattled, distracted, and barely swerves out of the path of an oncoming truck… only for another truck to slam into them.

They both survive, but Kyung Min is left suffering from multi-organ failure.

Finally, the truth comes out—Kyung Min was actually behind the entire scandal that destroyed Jeong Woo’s career. Years ago, he was Jeong Woo’s tutor. They became friends. But one day, Kyung Min’s dad got drunk, and Kyung Min needed to pick him up. When he asked to leave, Jeong Woo’s mom refused—and threatened to fire him if he left. So he stayed. His father died that night. From that moment on, he quietly swore revenge on Jeong Woo’s entire family.

Kyung Min passes away, but not before getting some level of redemption. Apparently, he never intended for the malpractice setup to happen in Jeong Woo’s clinic—he even tried to stop it. But still—damage done. With the case finally closed, Jeong Woo gets back some of his lost money, and Ha Neul accepts a position as assistant professor. Things are finally starting to look up. Meanwhile, Dae Young and Hong Ran go through a few hiccups (standard romance protocol), but they eventually get together. Jeong Woo also proposes to Ha Neul—but she doesn’t answer. (cliffhanger much?)

As we reach the finale, Ha Neul returns to her mental health clinic and reflects on how far she’s come. Her doctor officially discharges her—she’s finally doing okay. Our other lead, Jeong Woo, finally reopens his clinic.

And in classic drama fashion, everyone gets their happy ending—closing with Ha Neul and Jeong Woo at the beach, where it’s revealed…

They’re getting married.

The End.

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The Review

The Good

The Side Couple That Saved Me

Honestly, Hong Ran and Dae Yeong carried this show. Their dynamic kept me going through a lot of it, and the way they used each other as lifelines while navigating parenting challenges? Genuinely heartwarming. I don’t know if I would’ve made it through the show without them.

A Mystery Worth Watching

The mystery element? Solid. It kept me hooked through the first half, and honestly, I wish they had stretched it out over more episodes. The truth was compelling, and it really showed how quickly people can turn on you when things go south. That part hit.

Mental Illness Done Right (Mostly)

Jeong Woo’s portrayal of PTSD was done really well. It felt authentic, uncomfortable in the right ways, and was portrayed with strong emotional depth. The performance was convincing and added a lot of weight to his character. Ha Neul’s depression arc was also meaningful—though I have a few mixed thoughts on how it played out (we’ll get to that below).

The Family: Chaotic but Caring

The family moments were actually entertaining. The actor who played the uncle was a delight to see again, and their efforts to cheer Ha Neul up were genuinely sweet. Sure, they were a bit much when they were drunk, but you could tell how deeply they cared. Their efforts to cheer her up were genuinely sweet, even if occasionally over-the-top. 

The Rivalry That Was Pure Entertainment

Was their academic rivalry necessary for the plot? No. Was it ridiculously petty and fun to watch? Absolutely. Their competitive antics provided a nice little break from the heavier stuff, and honestly, I appreciated those moments more than I expected.

The Bad

An Obnoxious Amount of Drinking

This show was 90% drinking, and honestly? Why?

 I won’t get into the drinking-on-meds situation since that’s been thoroughly dragged elsewhere (lol), but beyond that—it was just too much. Practically every episode featured someone getting drunk, acting obnoxious, or both. The drinking rarely added to the story and eventually felt like filler—like they didn’t know what else to do with a scene, so they tossed in a soju bottle and called it a day. And let’s not forget—these people are doctors. You’d think they’d be more aware of the consequences of drinking daily (and to excess). It started off funny but quickly veered into “okay, we get it” territory.

The Return of… Who Cares?

What was the point of bringing back the third ranker from school?

The reappearance of the third-ranking student from their school days was just unnecessary. It felt like the writers wanted a forced jealousy moment and plopped her in without any real purpose. She didn’t advance the plot or meaningfully challenge the main couple. It gave the vibe of, “How do we stretch this to 16 episodes?” and not much else.

Her Depression Arc Could Have Been Way Stronger

I saw a lot of comments praising Ha Neul’s portrayal of depression, but honestly? I disagree.

While they acknowledged her struggle, the show never fully explored the real depth of depression—things like exhaustion, hopelessness, isolation, difficulty even getting out of bed. If you’ve seen Daily Dose of Sunshine, you know what I mean. They leaned so hard into the comedy that the entire theme of mental illness got pushed to the side.

Sure, Ha Neul had moments where she talked about her struggles, but that was pretty much it. She mostly seemed fine throughout the series—and while I get that depression isn’t always visible, this is a drama. When she was alone, in her room, we should have seen more of her internal struggle.

And then there’s the psychiatrist situation. So she gets taken off meds and told she doesn’t need therapy anymore because she “feels better”?

That didn’t sit right. Depression doesn’t magically disappear when your circumstances improve or you start dating someone. It comes in waves and doesn’t always align with external “success.” This show made it seem like all you need is a good man and a less toxic job and voilà—you’re cured. Like depression magically disappears once everything falls into place, but that’s not reality.

And let’s be real—she seemed to heal in five months because of a guy she used to hate?? It felt less like a meaningful mental health arc and more like they just used her illness to create romance drama. Which—given the entire premise—is ironic.

If this show was meant to be just a romance comedy, fine. But for a show that marketed itself around two doctors leaning on each other through mental health struggles, it didn’t seem all that interested in actually exploring that theme beyond surface level.

They Should Have Stayed Just Friends

Their relationship? Forced.

As much as the show wanted us to believe they had chemistry, their interactions screamed friend zone more than romance. They had a natural back-and-forth that worked way better as a platonic dynamic, and honestly? The writers should have adjusted the story to make them feel like actual romantic leads instead of just throwing them together because, well… lead characters must date, I guess.

Jin Seok’s Waiting Game Was Infuriating

Jin Seok hiding out and watching Jeong Woo’s life get destroyed when he had the evidence? So frustrating.

I get that he was scared, but he had already lived through the exact same thing. So how was he okay with watching someone else go through it? He literally had hidden camera footage that could have cleared Jeong Woo immediately, yet he chose to sit back and do nothing until Jeong Woo pushed him.

Like If you were terrified, at the very least, send the footage anonymously! Don’t wait until someone practically drags the truth out of you before deciding to help. His whole arc felt more like a plot delay than a character decision.

Bada Deserved Actual Development

Bada was basically the “useless younger brother” label personified—and why?

He had so much potential for a meaningful storyline. Especially since he was treated like the sibling who was always lesser, always the disappointment, and always overlooked. Imagine if he and Ha Neul had a real argument about it—something where he finally voiced his frustrations about living in her shadow. Then, a proper reconciliation where they talked through it, shifting his mindset from “I’ll always be behind her” to “I have my own strengths”.

Instead, we got a guilt-ridden monologue about being a burden, and then nothing. Every side character ended up revolving around her, as if their only functions were to orbit her, “fix themselves” for her sake or support her growth. They should’ve given the side characters less opportunities to have their own story if they were only there for her benefit. That imbalance really stood out. 

Their Relationship Was Peak Cringe

Why do directors keep making grown adults act like awkward high schoolers falling in love for the first time? It was so cringey watching fully grown, professional doctors behave like awkward immature teenagers. It didn’t help that they barely aged in appearance, but mentally too, they just didn’t evolve. (seriously, why did they look the exact same in high school?). Watching their dynamic often felt like sitting through a secondhand embarrassment fest. 

His Parents Should Have Stayed a Mystery

There’s nothing more obvious than randomly added storylines, and this show had a lot of them—including the barely-there, cold parents reveal.

They didn’t add anything to the story. While Jeong Woo’s mom made sense in relation to Kyung Min’s grudge, her distant, emotionally unavailable persona never actually affected Jeong Woo. If they were trying to give him deep-seated issues, they should have actually made him react to them.

Like, when he came in second place, his reaction was shock—but it should’ve been fear or something tied to his childhood. Instead, they just tossed the emotionally distant parent subplot into the mix without really doing anything with it. This was just another plot thread that fizzled out. (sigh)

Why Did She Get Into Kyung Min’s Car?!

This one made me want to throw my remote. Why would she, an intelligent doctor, willingly get into a car with a man she was actively investigating for sketchy and possibly criminal behaviour? Not only that, but she starts confronting him while still trapped in the moving car. Ma’am, are you trying to get kidnapped?? It was one of those moments where logic completely left the building, and the writing sacrificed common sense just to set up the crash. So frustrating.

Kyung Min Deserved a Different Ending

His ending? Disappointing.

Instead of facing real consequences or reconciling with Jeong Woo, he just… died.

He had moments where he genuinely cared for Jeong Woo—he was there at his graduation, he had their shared history, and yet? The writers didn’t give him the chance to actually make amends before his death. It felt like they rushed to wrap up his storyline instead of allowing him the chance to properly redeem himself or face justice. They had no problem adding drunk scenes every episode and dragging them out yet they were so quick to wrap up the storyline that actually mattered to the plot…?

This Show Was D R A W N O U T Beyond Reason

Finishing this drama? Pure endurance test.

I think one of my new biggest pet peeves with K-dramas is when they stretch the episode count for no reason. If they insisted on 16 episodes, they should’ve held off solving the mystery until later—because once Jeong Woo was cleared, what was left? Then, at episode 14, we find out Kyung Min was behind it all, and yet… there are STILL two more episodes.

And those last two? Painfully unnecessary.

They ran out of ideas so fast that the final episodes felt like pure filler—nothing meaningful happened. Everything had already wrapped up in episode 14, so why drag us through two more?

Honestly, the show started strong, but after episode 8? It nose-dived. I only finished it because I was half-watching and already so close to the end. And with how boring it got, I honestly don’t understand how it got hyped up as much as it did.

Just make it 8 episodes and call it a night.

The Ending Was a Mess

I’ve said this before, but let me say it louder: the ending made no sense. The therapist tells Ha Neul she’s healed, but how? When did we ever see her actually build coping mechanisms or face her depression head-on? All we saw was her vibe better because she got a boyfriend and a new job. Cool, but that’s not healing. That’s just a temporary life upgrade. What happens when life gets hard again? What happens if they break up? Instead of making it seem like they were each other’s only saving grace, they should have learned real ways to cope together. 

The show tried to sell us on the idea that love cured her mental illness, but that’s not how it works. Depression doesn’t just vanish when things start looking up—and especially not when your coping method is “have fun with your new man.” The way they handled mental illness felt more like a plot tool for romance rather than something they actually wanted to explore. If the writers didn’t want to focus on mental illness, then don’t make it the entire premise of the show. Don’t center your plot around two doctors dealing with mental health and then make them behave like they know nothing about it.

Why is the woman who reads dissertations for fun not reading a single one on depression? Why are two literal doctors drinking heavily on meds and making wildly irresponsible decisions like they’re in college? It just didn’t line up. Not narratively, not emotionally, not logically.

I’ll leave it at this: If you’re gonna make a show about doctors dealing with mental illness, maybe—just maybe—make them act like doctors dealing with mental illness.

I rest my case.

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What I Would Do

Refocus the Core: Mental Illness First, Romance Second

This one’s a given, but I’d make sure the actual focus of the show was on mental health—not just tossed in as background noise. We’d see both the highs and the lows of depression, not just hear about them in passing or voiceovers. Ha Neul wouldn’t just say she’s struggling; we’d see it. She might smile around others but shut down behind closed doors. The comedy could still exist, but it wouldn’t be the centerpiece.

And as for Ha Neul and Jeong Woo? They wouldn’t start dating right away. Instead, they’d form a pact to help each other cope with their new illnesses and their life struggles. Yes, they’d rely on each other—but they wouldn’t be the only things keeping each other going. They’d actively explore coping mechanisms together—exercise, healthy eating, small trips, therapy—things that have actually been linked to improving mental health. Through their ups and downs, we’d see how they support each other in difficult moments—whether that’s giving space, leaving food for each other, sending check-ins, or just being there in a way that feels natural.

Instead of just falling into romance, their connection would develop through reliance, and we’d get actual scenes building their relationship before any love arc kicks in. Not just trauma-bonding with a side of awkward flirting.

Give Bada a Real Arc

This one’s obvious: Bada deserves better. Like I mentioned earlier, I’d give him a proper storyline. Maybe it starts with a blowout between him and Ha Neul, where he finally explodes about always being in her shadow. For dramatic effect, their mom and uncle might step in—only to take her side. That fight would be a turning point. Later, after her accident or a big moment, they’d reconcile, and have a real conversation where both apologize and connect.

This would be his moment to realize that he doesn’t have to be second best—he can be his own person. Maybe he realizes that just because he’s not book smart, doesn’t mean he’s not smart in other ways. He’d then explore his own strengths, shifting away from the “failure” mindset. Maybe he’s great at art, music, cooking, or something that sets him apart in a meaningful way. 

By the end, he wouldn’t just be “Ha Neul’s little brother” but someone with his own identity, showing that intelligence isn’t just measured by grades or standardized tests. It would be such a powerful message for viewers who have ever felt like the “lesser” sibling or student. That your value isn’t defined by test scores or GPAs. That being good at something different doesn’t make you any less intelligent or capable. I’d want this drama to be packed with messages like that—messages that stick.

A Mystery Reveal That Actually Hits

While I did enjoy the mystery aspect of the show, the final reveal honestly felt a little lazy. Everything being cleared up through a conveniently captured video just didn’t hit the way it should’ve. In my version, the show would be a max of 12 episodes, and the truth wouldn’t come out until episode 11 or 12—not halfway through the series, leaving a bunch of filler afterward.

Instead of a random video doing the work, maybe the truth slips out from Kyung Min himself. Maybe he starts breaking down under the guilt and finally confesses—especially after something big like the car crash. Except in this version, he survives. He owns up to what he did, and he and Jeong Woo get a proper confrontation and reconciliation. The big reveal would land harder because it would come after emotional build-up and character development—not a lazy plot shortcut. And by holding it until the end, the mystery would actually keep us on the edge of our seats.

Jeong Woo’s Deserved More Depth

This was the easiest plot point to develop, and yet—the show completely overlooked it. They gave his parents this cold, strict, elite-doctor persona, but they never connected that to Jeong Woo’s mentality or upbringing. 

If they really wanted to do something impactful, Jeong Woo’s mindset of “I have to be first in everything” would have been a direct result of his parents’ influence. So instead of that awkward “I came second” scene, we could’ve had a real moment of panic or anxiety—the first time he realized he wasn’t perfect, and how terrifying that was for someone raised to believe second place was failure. 

Then, they could have carried that theme through his PTSD arc, showing how he struggles to accept weakness because of how he was raised. Show how his upbringing made him repress emotions and push through everything, even when it was hurting him. Show how it impacted his relationships, his career, and his sense of self.

Pairing this with his and Ha Neul’s growth together, overcoming past trauma and their illnesses, would have given so much more depth to both characters. Maybe his laid-back personality is actually a coping mechanism for his insecurities—anything to make him more complex than just “charming rival turned love interest.” Give him something deeper and more complex to overcome, and let us watch him unravel, confront, and rebuild. That’s how you write a character arc.

An Ending That Actually Makes Sense

The ending shouldn’t have been Ha Neul’s doctor just saying, “Congrats, you’re healed! Bye!”

Instead, she’d have a final reflection where she talks about her new reality—acknowledging that while there will always be highs and lows, she has people she trusts, real coping strategies, and new ways to enjoy life.

We wouldn’t pretend that she’s magically cured just because life is better now. Instead, we’d show how much she’s grown, learned, and healed since the beginning. That she’s still on the journey, and that’s okay.

This ending would serve as real reassurance to viewers who struggle with mental illness—sending the message that the lows aren’t the end. It would leave viewers with a sense of hope without pretending mental illness is something you just get over once life improves. It would show that the lows don’t last forever—and that healing is a process, not a finish line. And for anyone who’s been in a similar place, it might make them feel a little more seen.

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Final Thoughts

I feel like I’ve made my stance pretty clear throughout, but here’s the nice little bow on top. This show was disappointing, to say the least. It started off promising—had me intrigued with its setup, the trauma, the mystery—but it went downhill fast. While the side characters lowkey carried, Jeong Woo’s PTSD arc was well done, and the mystery did keep me watching… it just wasn’t enough to save the whole thing..

I originally rated this a 6/10, but honestly? No clue why I was feeling so generous. Maybe I had emotions back then that I just don’t have now.

The biggest issue? This drama wanted to be a comedy so badly that it completely sidelined its serious themes for cheap laughs. Worse, it forgot that its characters were supposed to be doctors—so things that might be understandable for the average person made zero sense when professionals were making the same bad choices (yes, I mean the drinking on meds and reckless behavior).

And speaking of questionable decisions, Ha Neul not researching her illness at any point? Baffling. This woman reads dissertations FOR FUN—so how is it that she never thought to look up anything about her own mental health?

I guess it was my fault for expecting this to be a drama highlighting the struggles of success and mental illness—but hey, that’s exactly how they marketed it. Lesson learned: next time, I won’t believe the trailer or any overly promising descriptions.

Oh, and a little tip for drama writers everywhere:
If everything gets solved by episode 8 or 14, don’t force 16 episodes. Just make it a 12-episode show and let everyone go home—cast, crew, and viewers included. We’re all tired.

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That officially wraps up the Doctor Slump review! 🥳🥳

Do you want to guess how many pages this was?? (hint: more than 10!)

I hope you stuck around until the end. I didn’t expect to write as much as I did but hey, now you can rewatch it with a different mindset. What were your thoughts on this drama? Did you enjoy it like a lot of people or did you agree with some of the points I mentioned??

Let me know and I’ll see you next week! 💕

No hint this week because I’m not sure what I’m gonna review next 😊

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