Chapter 44: Please (2)

“Hey, move!”

Professor Han Yoo-rim shouted at the resident blocking his way into the treatment room.

Normally, the resident would have stepped aside even before he raised his voice, pulling the curtain for him as well. But not this time.

‘His daughter is in that state… I can’t let him see her.’

They say workplaces feel like family.

In the surgical department, particularly in a tough environment like theirs, that sentiment was often literal.

Professors barely went home, spending most of their time with colleagues, making the bond feel closer to real family.

It was common for professors to bring their actual family members to events.

As a result, the surgical team all knew Han Ji-young’s face, and some were even close to her.

The resident blocking Han Yoo-rim now was one of them.

“Professor, please… Not right now!”

“What do you mean, ‘not now’?! She’s my daughter!”

Han Yoo-rim sounded more like a guardian than a doctor.

At this moment, he truly was.

The resident, struggling to keep his emotions in check, barely managed to speak.

His voice was raw with desperation.

“You know this… That’s why… that’s why you can’t go in.”

Han Yoo-rim hesitated for a moment.

No matter how shaken he was, he was still a seasoned university hospital doctor with decades of experience.

When the attending physician said something like this, there was always a reason.

“Is… is she that bad?”

“Yes… If you go in now, you’ll only be in the way.”

“Damn it… damn it…”

“I’ll call you right away… as soon as we have things under control.”

With that, the resident turned back toward the treatment room.

Just as he was about to push aside the curtain and enter, Han Yoo-rim stopped him.

“Wait.”

“Yes, Professor?”

“If… if things really take a turn for the worse, just call me. I have to… I have to see her at the end.”

Was it because he was a doctor?

Or because of the trail of blood leading into the treatment room?

Or perhaps the frantic shouting coming from inside?

Han Yoo-rim was already bracing himself for the worst.

The resident didn’t know what to say.

He simply bowed his head.

‘So much for learning how to break bad news…’

Not everything they learned in school was useful in real-life situations.

Especially in moments like this.

Clatter.

The resident left Han Yoo-rim alone and stepped inside the treatment room.

* * *

“Ugh.”

He let out a groan the moment he entered.

In the short time he had been outside, a lot had changed.

Most of the patient’s clothing had been cut away.

After all, visual examination was the most fundamental part of diagnosis.

Especially when the patient was unconscious, immediate assessment was critical.

‘Her chest is badly bruised… No, is this from CPR?’

The first thing that caught his eye was the deep purple bruising on her chest.

Even as a third-year surgical resident, he had rarely dealt with severe trauma patients from start to finish.

He couldn’t always tell what kind of injury he was looking at or what he should be suspecting.

Rattle.

Hearing something roll across the floor, he turned to see a portable defibrillator being wheeled in.

“Huh?”

“Don’t just stand there—move!”

Kang Hyuk pushed the stunned resident aside and grabbed the defibrillator.

The screen, dark just moments ago, flickered to life with a chaotic ECG reading.

Jang-mi, who had been inserting a catheter, let out a near-scream.

“V-fib (Ventricular fibrillation)!”

Even someone with minimal experience would have immediately suspected [ventricular fibrillation].
(T/N: A life-threatening heart rhythm disorder where the heart quivers instead of pumping, requiring immediate defibrillation.)

“Anus, get down here!”

“Ah, yes!”

At Kang Hyuk’s command, Jaewon, who had been sweating profusely while performing chest compressions, quickly scrambled off the table.

The moment his feet hit the ground, Kang Hyuk pressed the defibrillator paddles against Ji-young’s chest and shouted,

“Clear!”

Everyone immediately stepped back from the patient.

Jang-mi, who had just finished inserting the catheter, did the same.

“Shock!”

With a heavy jolt, the electrical surge shot through Ji-young’s body.

Everyone was anxious to see if her rhythm would return, but there was no time to check just yet.

“One! Two!”

Kang Hyuk tossed aside the defibrillator paddles and immediately resumed chest compressions.

Unlike before, modern CPR prioritizes chest compressions above all else.

Breathing support could wait—compressions were key.

“Check rhythm!”

After nearly two minutes of relentless chest compressions, Kang Hyuk pulled his hands away and shouted.

Jaewon quickly took over, shaking his head.

“Still V-fib!”

“Dammit! Increase to 420!”

“Yes, 420J, charging!”

Jang-mi, having completed the catheter insertion, adjusted the defibrillator to 420 joules.

Jaewon continued compressions without pause.

He knew all too well that in the absence of a proper heartbeat, uninterrupted chest compressions were the only thing keeping the patient alive.

“Step back, or you’ll collapse first.”

“A-ah, okay.”

Kang Hyuk patted Jaewon’s back, motioning for him to step aside.

Jaewon practically leaped away as Kang Hyuk seized the defibrillator paddles again.

“Clear!”

With a crisp ‘snap,’ all medical staff immediately stepped back.

A 360J shock was already strong enough to be fatal for a healthy person.

But 420J was even more dangerous—it could kill on impact.

After ensuring everyone was clear, Kang Hyuk pressed the shock button.

“Shock!”

And then, without hesitation, he resumed chest compressions.

“Check [RR]! Is it going in properly?”
(T/N: Respiratory Rate – breaths per minute)

“It’s only 4 to 5 breaths per minute! Oxygen saturation is in the low 90s… no, high 80s!”

“Then squeeze the damn bag! What are you waiting for?!”

“Yes!”

The emergency medicine resident, who had been staring at the vital signs like they would reveal the answer, hurriedly squeezed the [bag-valve mask] connected to the [endotracheal tube] that Kang Hyuk had intubated with lightning speed earlier.
(T/N: A manual resuscitator used to push air into the lungs.)

Kang Hyuk watched for a moment before shouting again.

“Hey! Keep it under 8 breaths per minute! The heart’s barely beating—you’ll put too much pressure on the lungs!”

“A-ah, yes. Sorry….”

“Don’t do things you need to apologize for! How many years in are you?!”

“I-I’m in my fourth year now.”

“Sigh.”

Without stopping his chest compressions for even a second, Kang Hyuk let out a deep sigh.

A fourth-year resident was practically a specialist.

In fact, in many cases, a [chief resident] had more authority than a [fellow].
(T/N: A chief resident is the senior-most resident, while a fellow is a doctor undergoing additional specialized training.)

And yet, this was the state of things.

The future of trauma surgery in South Korea seemed bleak.

At times like this, he considered returning abroad, where the pay was better and the treatment of trauma surgeons was far superior.

But now wasn’t the time for that kind of thinking.

There was a patient dying right in front of him.

Thud.

Kang Hyuk dropped the matter and shouted,

“Rhythm!”

From behind, Jaewon, who had been preparing to switch in, let out an exclamation of joy.

“I-it’s back!”

“Don’t get careless! Check for a pulse! If you don’t feel one, keep compressing!”

“I-I feel it!”

“Yeah? Blood pressure?!”

Jang-mi, who had been running around monitoring everything that Kang Hyuk and Jaewon couldn’t, responded immediately.

“70 over 50! Stable!”

“Whew.”

Only then did Kang Hyuk let out a sigh of relief.

They had overcome a major hurdle.

But the road ahead was still treacherous—so much so that calling it ‘difficult’ would be an understatement.

In other words, there was no time to rest.

“Ultrasound! Bring the ultrasound!”

“Yes!”

The surgical resident, who had been standing uselessly like a sack of rice, dashed out of the room.

Clatter.

Just then, outside, a pale-faced Han Yoo-rim, who had collapsed onto the floor, clung to him.

“H-how is she? Tell me what’s going on!”

“Her rhythm is back… We’re bringing in an ultrasound now.”

“Ultrasound? What for? Don’t tell me—the heart?”

“Yes.”

“Wait a second! Why is trauma surgery performing a cardiac ultrasound?! I’ll contact cardiology!”

“Uh…”

The resident thought this was a complete waste of time.

But he was a surgical resident, and the person stalling them was the department chair.

Even if that department chair’s judgment was completely clouded.

“What are you still doing here?! Are you trying to let the patient die?!”

Just then, salvation came in the form of Kang Hyuk’s furious roar.

He hadn’t even waited 10 seconds before shouting again.

“I-I’ll just bring it in!”

“A-ah, why aren’t they picking up…?”

It was unclear whether Han Yoo-rim was talking to himself or someone only he could see.

The resident left him behind and ran.

He returned just in time, wheeling the [portable ultrasound machine] into the treatment room.

Han Yoo-rim, once again trying to barge into the room, caused another scene, so the resident was forced to remain outside.

Regardless, Kang Hyuk successfully received the ultrasound machine.

Whirr.

Jang-mi, moving like a machine, applied ultrasound gel to the probe, while Jaewon adjusted the patient’s position for optimal cardiac ultrasound imaging.

There were no obvious external signs of [hypovolemic shock] from massive blood loss.
(T/N: Hypovolemic shock is a life-threatening condition caused by severe blood or fluid loss, leading to organ failure due to inadequate circulation.)

Yet, the severe chest trauma and ventricular fibrillation suggested the heart had taken a serious hit.

But predicting that the heart had sustained damage and seeing it with their own eyes were two entirely different things.

Kang Hyuk placed the probe over Ji-young’s heart.

The once pitch-black screen flickered to life, revealing a complex grayscale image.

“Damn it…”

Almost simultaneously, Kang Hyuk let out a groan.

He had suspected it.

“Slave, what do you think?”

Kang Hyuk continued scanning as he spoke to Jaewon.

Jaewon could read the ultrasound findings without much difficulty.

He had topped his board certification exam and had a fair amount of experience.

“The blunt trauma caused significant tissue swelling. And the heart… ah.”

“[Cardiac tamponade] is forming. But that’s not the real issue.”
(T/N: A life-threatening condition where fluid builds up around the heart, preventing it from pumping properly.)

“Professor, this is…”

Jaewon couldn’t bring himself to say the exact words.

He simply alternated his gaze between Kang Hyuk’s hands and the ultrasound screen.

But Kang Hyuk didn’t have the luxury of hesitation.

He was the team leader.

And he had a duty to save this patient.

“Cardiac rupture. We’re heading straight to the operating room.”