Chae Hyun Moon had his patients' respect, if not love. Now many wonder about him.
By David Streitfeld, Times Staff Writer
REDDING -- Chae Hyun Moon might have wanted to be a doctor since he was a little boy, but his staunchest supporters agree with his sharpest critics: He missed the class on bedside manners.
"Oh, my Lord, he gives you a heart attack just talking to you," said Lee Cook. The retired computer systems analyst still shudders at the memory of Moon shouting at him not to hang onto the bar of the treadmill during a stress test.
Clifford Baker, a Presbyterian missionary, recalls a 1996 hospital stay when he was experiencing congestive heart failure. "You've got about three months straight downhill," Moon told him. Out in the hallway, Moon advised Baker's wife to make sure the will was in order.
So many patients, so little time for chitchat. In his 23 years as a cardiologist here, Moon has worked on as many as 35,000 people. On some days, he would perform 10 catheterizations, where a thin tube is inserted to open clogged arteries or obtain diagnostic information. Another doctor would consider it a full day's work to do three.
For a long time, Moon had the respect, if not love, of his patients
at
No charges have been filed, let alone proved. Yet the claim in the 67-page affidavit that "there is reason to believe that many" Redding Medical patients "have been victims of a scheme" involving "unnecessary invasive coronary procedures" is shaking this city and causing ripples far beyond.
"This is a horror story, at best," said Gary Oxley, a nurse who works with Moon and believes the allegations are untrue.
Moon, who has told colleagues that everything he did was in the best interests of his patients, did not respond to requests for an interview at the hospital, his office or house here.
But conversations with colleagues and former and current patients as well as a review of court documents describe an assertive, often arrogant doctor, one who couldn't be bothered with pleasantries, hobbies or critics. For better or worse, his patients have been his life.
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A Slew of Lawsuits
For all the advances in technology, cardiac care can still be as much art as science. Redding Medical was home to the best machines and receptive to the latest ideas. To his admirers, and there are still many here, Moon saw further and knew more. He prevented heart attacks, extending the life and health of many patients.
The affidavit presents a far more chilling scenario, which is that Moon violated the ancient medical oath to "first, do no harm." One case briefly detailed by the FBI: A 59-year-old male received bypass surgery and, four years later, is still too weak to work. A cardiologist who reviewed the man's records for the FBI "found, at most, evidence of a relatively minor problem," the affidavit says.
The investigation, which will take months, is roiling the
owner of
In this former logging community turned vacation jump-off
point, Moon is a more personal matter. The
In a search for more business, Redding Medical recently mailed out fliers that showed a trim woman with a basketful of healthful groceries.
"After grocery shopping, a few errands and one load of laundry, a 42-year-old woman collapsed of a heart attack," the flier warns. "And you thought heart disease was just a man's problem."
The "lifestyle risk factors" listed are very broad, including "increasing age."
Such an approach can save lives, but it's also ripe for abuse. When does aggressive prevention cross over into unnecessary operations? It's a question many of Moon's former patients are being forced to ask themselves. Some are emerging with their faith intact. Some are uncertain what to think. And some are filing lawsuits.
Lawyers are running ads in the local paper and on television, trolling for victims. One local firm says it will file more than 100 suits all by itself.
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High Self-Esteem
When Moon plays golf, he does it on Sunday morning. By
"He's a workaholic day and night--24/7, 365. He can be there in five minutes at 3 in the morning," said Robert Hansen, an anesthesiologist. "I don't think he knows how to take a vacation. If I were him, I would have burnt out a long time ago."
Moon, 55, was born in
His goal was to be a surgeon like his father, he told the
Redding Record Searchlight in a lengthy interview in 1994, but back trouble
made it impossible to stay on his feet for hours at a time in the operating
room. After coming to the
Moon trained in
He and his wife, Sun, raised two boys and a girl here, all now grown. Moon contributed to the symphony and funded a high school science scholarship. But mostly he worked.
His self-esteem never seems to have been low, but over the years it blossomed.
"How dare you get a second opinion," an "enraged" Moon is quoted in a wrongful-death lawsuit filed Friday as saying to a 74-year-old patient with no prior history of heart disease. "I built this heart program!"
Moon also has clashed with the other hospital in town, Mercy Medical, suing it in December 1997 for violating federal anti-trust statutes. In September 1999 the suit was dismissed, but Moon continued to rag on the competition a few blocks away.
"Those boys at Mercy don't even know" what the latest heart technology is, he is quoted telling one patient in the FBI affidavit. "They have an 8% mortality rate; we have 2%."
Mercy declines to talk about Moon, issuing a blanket statement: "We have no information to offer, and feel it would be inappropriate to comment." The statement adds that Mercy did not request the FBI investigation, which many of Moon's supporters claim.
"He has a terrible, terrible personality," said Betty Cook, who now believes that Moon's insertion of a stent to widen her husband Lee's artery was unnecessary. "He doesn't talk like you and I are talking. He shouts and yells and demands."
Yet Cook also remembers approaching Moon after the operation
and saying, "I'm sure happy we have a cardiologist like you in
And Moon, not gruff for once, said, "That means the world to me to hear you say that. You've made my day."
The brusqueness has cultural roots, one nurse said. The American tradition of analyzing everything, making sure the patient is comfortable, isn't necessarily the way medicine is practiced overseas.
So too with Moon's worst habit, smoking. He didn't try to hide it, and even laughed about it. "Koreans," he would say, "don't get heart disease."
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Former Patients
Some former patients, even now, have a benign view of Moon.
"We hope he gets vindicated," said 67-year-old
Ruben Martinez, a print-shop owner who lives in nearby Weaverville. Two years
ago,
"They were doing the work-up on me when I started
having pains. Dr. Moon walked in. He wasn't even supposed to be there that day.
He came in and said, 'This man is having a heart attack,' "
The FBI affidavit speculates that at least half of Redding Medical's patients really did need surgery, and another quarter fell into a gray area of having a minor amount of heart disease. As for the rest, "there existed no indication of any heart disease that would warrant surgical intervention of any kind."
That means thousands of patients are wondering about their own cases. One of them is Larry Clifford, an electrical engineer who saw Moon because of his tendency to fall asleep at odd times.
"I felt I was in good hands," Clifford said.
"He was very arrogant, always saying, 'I'm the best.' He said he was one
of the best cardiologists in the
Clifford ended up having a five-way bypass. "When I was leaving there, they convinced me I was a ... lucky person that they happened to find this. And maybe that's the case. But I don't know."
No one is likely to be sure for months, if not years, if ever.
"I believe in innocent until proven guilty," said Terry Zeller, a nurse who has worked with Moon. "But he'll never be completely exonerated from this in the court of public opinion. There will always be a question."
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A Good Life
If Moon, as his supporters assert, was good for
"No comment, please," a woman says over the intercom. 'You can contact our lawyers." The lawyer, John Reese Jr., didn't return calls.
The driveway winds up the hill and out of sight. According to tax records, the unseen house was built in 1991 and has 6,180 square feet. Its assessed value is $835,756. A neighbor -- he lives practically next door but has never met the doctor -- says Moon built a painting studio in the back.
Moon's abstract canvases are the most unusual thing about him, colleagues say; such a contemplative activity doesn't seem to fit in with his type-A personality. But Moon's interest in art is long-held. His sister, his parents-in-law and other relatives are artists. He recently sponsored an art show here, one friend said.
Since the raid, Moon has been trying to carry on. Baker, the Presbyterian missionary who was given a death sentence by Moon six years ago, had an appointment last Wednesday. "The office was jammed," he reports.
Baker was getting his pacemaker tested. Unexpectedly, Moon came in.
"It's a rotten thing," Baker said to him.
Moon replied he was being "crucified" in the
Tom King, editor of the Record Searchlight, said the paper has received about "20 or 30" letters, a few signed by multiple people, in support of the doctors. He added that the paper has received an equal number of letters detailing unverified allegations against them. None of the letters from either group has been published.
The faithful have had no trouble making their feelings known on an immense banner outside the hospital's catheter lab.
"We
When Moon first saw it, one witness said, he broke down in tears, sobbing uncontrollably, saying he couldn't believe what was happening. Two colleagues had to hold him.
The state medical board has petitioned for a temporary restraining order to stop Moon and Realyvasquez from practicing.
As part of the petition, there was a declaration from
Vincent Yap, chief of cardiology at
A hearing is scheduled for Tuesday.