Doctor Slump May 2026

The premise is deliciously ironic. Yeo Jeong-woo (Park Hyung-sik) was a star plastic surgeon, known for his skill and swagger, until a mysterious patient death and a botched lawsuit destroy his career overnight. Nam Ha-neul (Park Shin-hye) was a workaholic anesthesiologist with a rigid moral compass, who burned herself down to a husk chasing success, only to crash into a debilitating depression. These two former high school rivals, who once fought for the top academic spot, find themselves at rock bottom at the exact same moment—and by fate’s cruel joke, end up living as neighbors in a cramped rooftop room in his brother’s building.

While the romantic arc is swoon-worthy (the confession scene is a masterclass in vulnerability), the drama’s strongest threads are its secondary relationships. Ha-neul’s relationship with her mother is a heartbreaking portrait of a family learning to see mental illness without shame. Jeong-woo’s bond with his older brother (a chaotic, loving convenience store owner) is the kind of unglamorous, steady support that actually saves lives. And the friend group—including a hilarious OB-GYN and a blundering dermatologist—provides comic relief without ever mocking the seriousness of the situation. Doctor Slump

At its core, Doctor Slump is not a medical drama. It is a brutally honest, deeply empathetic, and surprisingly hilarious portrait of burnout. It asks a radical question: What happens when the people we trust to fix our bodies are quietly breaking apart? The premise is deliciously ironic

In the glossy world of K-dramas, medical shows often present a familiar fantasy: brilliant surgeons who save lives with a cool head and a steady hand, their biggest struggles being romantic timing or an impossibly rare disease. Then comes Doctor Slump —a show that takes that pristine white coat, crumples it up, and throws it into a pile of laundry that hasn't been done in three weeks. These two former high school rivals, who once