Trauma Center : Golden Hour - Chapter 17
Swish.
While harboring a sly thought, Kang-hyuk firmly pressed down on the arterial branch leading to the lower lobe of the right lung with his left hand.
As a result, the color of the lower lobe, which had been bright red despite the injury, instantly faded.
Keeping his left hand in place, Kang-hyuk glanced upward.
Jaewon was observing with such dedication that it looked as though he might shove his head right into the surgical site, naturally leading to their eyes meeting.
“Anus.”
“Y-Yes!”
Jaewon no longer seemed to care whether Kang-hyuk called him Anus or anything else.
He had always considered himself fairly competent, but now, he realized there were doctors who lived in an entirely different world.
“If you’ve only trained in general surgery, you’ve never assisted in a lung resection before, right?”
“Ah, no. I haven’t.”
“Then watch closely as I tie off the vessels. What do you think?”
“You start with the bronchus, then the artery… and next, I assume, the vein?”
Since Jaewon had been watching the surgery with absolute focus, he was able to answer sharply.
However, Kang-hyuk seemed completely unimpressed.
Without any sign of surprise, he opened his mouth with an indifferent expression.
“Why do you think it’s in that order?”
“Hmm.”
Jaewon paused to think.
‘I never rotated through [thoracic surgery] as a student or an intern…’ (T/N: surgical specialty that focuses on the treatment of diseases, injuries, and conditions affecting the chest (thorax), including the lungs, esophagus, heart, and other organs within the thoracic cavity.)
Lung resection wasn’t something medical students typically learned.
It seemed important and common, but that was only true within the field of thoracic surgery.
In medical school, the focus was on the so-called “major subjects”—internal medicine, surgery, obstetrics and gynecology, pediatrics, and psychiatry.
In other words, Jaewon had no prior knowledge of lung resection surgery.
However, as medical students gained more knowledge, they sometimes realized that what once seemed like pure memorization actually followed logical and interconnected principles.
Fortunately, Jaewon had been an outstanding student and had grasped such nuances.
“First… The bronchus needs to be tied off first to prevent air from leaking into the injured area.”
“Right. But you just saw that.”
“Then… if you tie the vein before the artery…”
Jaewon initially thought reversing the order wouldn’t make much difference.
But Kang-hyuk was a monstrous surgeon—there had to be a reason.
‘Think simply. Keep it simple.’
Arteries bring blood in.
Veins take blood out.
That realization cleared his thoughts.
“You don’t know?”
Hearing Kang-hyuk’s impatient tone made him panic.
Fortunately, he managed to come up with a reasonable answer.
“If you tie the vein first… blood would keep flowing into the lung, increasing blood loss.”
“Hmm. Close enough.”
Kang-hyuk nodded and extended his hand to the assisting nurse.
Jaewon looked inside again to see what he had taken.
Somehow, the artery had already been neatly ligated.
‘When did he even do that?’
As Jaewon was still processing his surprise, Kang-hyuk used his left hand again to locate the vein and pressed down on it.
Since the artery was already tied off, the injured lung no longer swelled.
It remained pale, as if it had already been removed.
“Alright. Everything is tied off now. Anesthesia team.”
“Yes, professor.”
Gyeongwon was intently monitoring the patient’s vitals and the surgery.
He no longer looked like someone who had been dragged here against his will.
Thanks to that, he immediately responded to Kang-hyuk’s quiet call.
“It’s about time to wrap up, so get ready to conclude the anesthesia.”
“Ah… Yes.”
Gyeongwon nodded, looking astonished.
He glanced at the clock—less than two hours had passed since the surgery began.
And in that time, Kang-hyuk had performed both a decompressive craniectomy and a lung resection.
‘Is he even human?’
In fact, among all the medical staff in a university hospital, anesthesiology residents were the ones who got to observe the most diverse range of surgeons.
They rotated through different surgical departments each month, witnessing various techniques and skills.
By his fourth year, Gyeongwon prided himself on having seen nearly every surgeon at Hanguk University Hospital.
Some were excellent, others were not.
But he had never encountered a monster like Baek Kang-hyuk.
‘This patient might actually survive…’
Gyeongwon tilted his head slightly and checked the monitor beside the anesthesia machine.
Displayed on the screen were the patient’s records, compiled by Nurse Jang-mi based on information provided by the paramedics.
– Fell from a 5-meter cliff near a hiking trail.
– [Tension pneumothorax] due to rib fractures, resuscitated on-site by Baek Kang-hyuk (physician). (T/N: a life-threatening condition where trapped air compresses the lungs and heart)
– [Subdural hematoma] leading to increased intracranial pressure and loss of consciousness, blood pressure dropped to 50/30. Baek Kang-hyuk (physician) performed a decompressive craniectomy in the helicopter. (T/N: a type of brain bleed where blood collects between the brain and the dura mater (the outer protective covering of the brain). )
Even reading it felt surreal.
But this wasn’t Kang-hyuk boasting—it was verified testimony from the rescue team.
‘Incredible, really.’
Muttering to himself, Gyeongwon adjusted the depth of anesthesia.
Meanwhile, Kang-hyuk used scissors to cut through the bronchus and blood vessels connecting the lower right lung lobe.
With a soft thud, the lobe detached.
He handed the removed tissue directly to the nurse.
“Send this to pathology.”
“Yes. What suture material should we use for closure?”
“Hmm… Let’s go with [3-0].” (T/N: Suture size, the smaller the number, the thicker the thread.)
“Alright. I’ll prepare 3-0 Vicryl and nylon.”
“Also, place a chest tube—just one should be fine.”
“Understood, professor.”
Kang-hyuk waited briefly for the sutures.
Since the lead surgeon was taking a moment to pause, Jaewon found himself with nothing to do.
Just as he thought about taking a short break, Kang-hyuk spoke up.
“Hey, Anus.”
“Yes.”
Jaewon cursed himself for responding so naturally to being called “Anus.”
But what could he do? His body reacted before his mind could even process it.
“Where are you headed next year?”
“Ah… I’m thinking of staying for another year. No one’s offered me a position yet.”
The moment the topic of the future came up, Jaewon’s face darkened.
Even though colorectal surgery was one of the most promising specialties in the surgical field, surgery as a whole was in a bleak state.
It was all the same in the end.
Of course, compared to Kang-hyuk’s specialty, trauma surgery, colorectal surgery was practically a goldmine.
Yet Kang-hyuk, despite being a professor in trauma surgery, smirked.
“You’re really going to spend two years studying colorectal surgery?”
His tone was dripping with condescension.
For a surgical fellow, who was typically full of pride for their specialty, this was not something he could easily let slide.
“What? Aren’t you looking down on my field a bit too much?”
“I’m not looking down on it, just stating my opinion.”
“Isn’t that the same thing?”
“Well, yeah. But isn’t it my right to speak my mind?”
“That’s… true, but…”
Jaewon felt like something was off but couldn’t quite pinpoint what.
It was because of Kang-hyuk’s sheer presence.
His overwhelming confidence was so extreme that it had the power to make even absurd statements sound like absolute truths.
“Anyway, are you really planning to stay for two years? Or is it just because no one’s offering you a position?”
“Well…”
Jaewon was about to say, Of course, I’m staying to learn more, but hesitated.
His own grumbling from just the previous day came back to haunt him.
“I have no idea what I even learned this past year… All I’ve gotten better at is sucking up to seniors and handling busywork.” (T/N: Oohh, this is a nice insight. Maybe this was another reason why he chose trauma in the end.)
This wasn’t just Jaewon’s problem.
It was a common issue for nearly all fellows.
There was a reason they jokingly referred to themselves as “fell-slaves.”
“So, you can’t even answer, huh?”
“Still, if I stay at Hanguk University Hospital…”
“You’re not seriously thinking staying at a university hospital will work out somehow, right? Do you really think the professors will take responsibility for your future?”
“Uh…”
“Think about your seniors. The answer should be obvious.”
Jaewon unconsciously recalled his seniors one by one.
Some were outright geniuses, no exaggeration needed.
There were those who wrote research papers so well that they were called paper machines.
And those whose surgical skills were so precise they were nicknamed sewing machines.
Yet none of them managed to stay in the university hospital—they were all pushed out.
If they had left voluntarily, it would have been something to celebrate, but the seniors Jaewon was thinking about weren’t among those cases.
“Professor, the sutures are ready.”
“Hmm. Anus, let’s close up first. Think about it while we work.”
“Ah… Yes.”
“Think slowly, but move your hands fast. Why are you so sluggish?”
“I’m sorry.”
Kang-hyuk scolded Jaewon while beginning to suture the lung.
Dudududu.
There wasn’t an actual sound, but Jaewon felt like he could hear something like that.
That’s how fast Kang-hyuk’s suturing was.
And it was precise.
Poke.
The needle pierced through the muscle layer.
Push.
It emerged at precisely the same height on the opposite side.
Each stitch was evenly spaced.
“Cut.”
“Oh, yes.”
“Are you zoning out? Stay focused.”
Kang-hyuk had told him to think, yet now he was scolding him for not paying attention.
But in the operating room, the lead surgeon was king, so Jaewon could only apologize.
“I’m sorry.”
“Cut faster. I’m the one doing the suturing, and all you’re doing is snipping. How are you still slower than me?”
Logically, it didn’t make sense.
Yet it felt like Kang-hyuk was indeed faster.
“He’s insane… This guy is a complete monster.”
Jaewon thought to himself as he snipped the sutures with scissors.
After repeating this several times, they finally reached the last stitch.
Kang-hyuk had closed the muscle layer, subcutaneous tissue, and skin—all within ten minutes.
Snip.
As Jaewon made the final cut, Kang-hyuk immediately spoke.
“So, have you thought about it?”
“Huh?”
Jaewon looked at him, completely baffled.
Kang-hyuk stared back as if he couldn’t understand what was so confusing.
“Are you senile? I told you to think about it earlier.”
“Oh…”
“If you’re just planning to stay there for no real reason, I have a suggestion for you.”
“A… suggestion?”
“A trauma surgery fellowship. There’s an open position next year. What do you think? If you train for about five years, you might be able to do even a quarter of what I can.”