Chapter 82

WEE-OOO, WEE-OOO.

No sooner had Jaewon been sent to the operating room than another ambulance slid up to the ER entrance.

There was plenty of space, as the previous ambulance had just cleared out after dropping off a patient.

Whirr.

Soon, the paramedics rushed in, pushing a stretcher.

“U-uaaaagh!”

At the same time, the patient on the bed let out a scream.

Usually, if a patient still had the energy to scream like that, they’d be considered not seriously hurt.

But this time, no one could say that about this patient.

Through a gap the paramedics hadn’t managed to cover, the patient’s appearance was utterly horrific.

Both shins were broken, with the shattered bones piercing right through the skin.

“Open fracture! Pour saline all over it!”

“Y-yes!”

As soon as Kang-hyuk saw it, he diagnosed and ordered immediate disinfection.

“Uaaaaagh!”

The patient’s scream, which was closer to a wail, continued the whole time.

If left like this, it would be more than just noisy.

‘They could develop [PTSD (Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder)].’

People who don’t know much about this disease might think it’s just something that makes soldiers wake up panting at night.

Dramas and movies often portray it that way.

But in reality, it was nothing so simple.

‘Even mercenaries tough enough to chew rocks have ended up broken by this…’

It was a condition that could destroy a person’s very character.

And it often started with pain that was simply unbearable.

It didn’t only happen to those who experienced it directly. Even those who witnessed it could develop it.

That’s why some ER staff and paramedics sometimes requested psychological counseling.

With these thoughts running through his head, Kang-hyuk quickly drew up a narcotic [analgesic] and injected it into the IV line connected to the patient’s arm.

“Let’s ease up a bit.”

He patted the shoulder of the patient, who was writhing in pain.

“Uuuhhh…”

The patient barely had the strength to reply to Kang-hyuk’s words, only moaning incoherently.

But as the [analgesic] began to take effect, they gradually quieted and soon passed out.

At the same time, sighs of relief came from all around.

“Phew.”

“Goodness.”

It showed just how much the patient’s pain had spread tension throughout the room.

Only then did Kang-hyuk have a chance to ask the paramedics something.

“What happened?”

It was a simple question.

But the paramedics, well-trained, immediately relayed the necessary information.

“Female, 42 years old. She was thrown from the bus and landed on her legs. When we found her, both legs were already broken. Luckily, she was conscious, but due to pain and panic, she couldn’t communicate. Her blood pressure was up to 220 earlier, but now…”

The paramedic trailed off, looking at the monitor newly connected to the patient.

Nurses had already rushed over and hooked up a blood pressure cuff.

Under the influence of the [analgesic], her systolic blood pressure was barely even 100.

“It dropped fast. At least it’s lucky she’s not in [pain shock]…”

Kang-hyuk knew well that someone could die just from pain alone.

Other doctors in different fields might have seen it too, but in [trauma surgery], it was much more common.

Sometimes, a patient would die even though, by the looks of their injuries, they shouldn’t have.

The paramedic nodded, as if he’d witnessed such cases before.

“Yes, but she held out better than most.”

“Did you find any underlying conditions?”

“She seems to be on medication for [diabetes]. We found a prescription among her things.”

“Diabetes…”

Both Kang-hyuk and the paramedic looked grim.

‘Why did it have to be diabetes…’

That thought filled Kang-hyuk’s mind.

He instinctively turned toward the patient’s legs.

The resident and intern, following his orders, were diligently pouring saline over the wounds.

Thanks to their efforts, it looked a little less horrifying than before.

But only a little.

‘Bone’s come out through the skin. And diabetes… Not good.’

There were many ways to classify fractures.

But the most important was whether it was [open] or [closed].

Why was this so important? Because of infection.

Bones are meant to be covered by skin.

A bone poking out and dangling, like in this patient, should never happen.

‘You have to assume bacteria have already gotten in.’

Even with saline irrigation, there were limits.

Ultimately, it would be up to antibiotics and the patient’s own immunity to kill any remaining germs.

But this patient had [diabetes].

That meant her immune system was compromised.

A clean and fast surgery was needed more than ever.

“Send her straight to the other emergency OR! Is it available?”

“Ah, yes! Who’s the surgeon? What should we do about that?”

The emergency medicine resident nodded and asked.

Kang-hyuk hesitated for a moment at the question.

Honestly, he wanted to do it himself.

There was no one in the world who could do this operation faster and cleaner.

WEE-OOO, WEE-OOO.

But patients kept coming in.

There were still more waiting for his triage and emergency care.

He couldn’t leave his post.

Bzzz.

Just then, his phone vibrated in his pocket.

He quickly checked it—Han Yoo-rim.

“Yes, Chief.”

Han Yoo-rim skipped all the small talk and got straight to the point.

Kang-hyuk’s voice on the call was completely different from just a moment ago.

“Our department is down to just two people, including myself. Do you know Professor Kim from orthopedics? It’s his research hours right now. There’s no one free in neurosurgery or thoracic surgery at the moment… Neurosurgery might finish up a bit sooner, though.”

“So orthopedics still has one person left, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, just a moment. I’ll call back on video.”

“Video? Why, why?”

Han Yoo-rim asked, but Kang-hyuk ended the call without answering.

Some might say it was rude or disrespectful to act that way to a superior.

But when it came to trauma patients, Kang-hyuk only saw the patient in front of him.

“You can see this, right?”

Kang-hyuk started a video call and asked.

Han Yoo-rim looked bewildered but nodded anyway.

Since he’d agreed to help Kang-hyuk, he figured he might as well do it right.

‘The chief administrative officer and the director are way too negative… Sure, trauma surgery is running at a deficit, but it draws a lot of attention. Who knows where Baek Kang-hyuk will end up in the future…’

There was a bit of calculation behind his cooperation.

But the important thing was that he’d gained an ally, however it happened.

“Take a look at this.”

Kang-hyuk turned the camera toward the patient’s leg.

Han Yoo-rim frowned at the sight.

It was a good thing he was a surgeon—anyone else might have looked away or gotten angry.

“You see this?”

“I see it all too well.”

“Let them know about this situation, and tell them to come down right now.”

“R-right now?”

“Yes, now. You hear that? Patients keep coming.”

“Ah… okay, got it.”

Han Yoo-rim nodded repeatedly and hung up.

Kang-hyuk pointed at his now-ended phone call, addressing the emergency medicine resident who had asked about the attending surgeon.

“You heard, right? It’s Professor Kim from orthopedics. Take her straight to the OR, and prep the instruments for an open fracture.”

“Y-yes, Professor.”

These days, hardly any emergency medicine residents failed to follow Kang-hyuk’s instructions.

Some were even seriously considering re-training in trauma surgery after finishing their residency.

No one had actually switched, due to the pay gap between emergency medicine specialists and trauma surgeons.

Still, the resident nodded solemnly and pushed the patient’s bed away.

“Just transfer the patient and come right back. The next patient… This one’s not looking good.”

Kang-hyuk pointed with his chin at the patient entering the ER.

Drip, drip.

Even from a distance, you could see the patient was unconscious, blood dripping red onto the floor.

“Harder, press harder!”

A paramedic, drenched in sweat, was pressing down hard on the patient’s abdomen—or maybe it was the chest.

But despite the effort, blood was pooling across the ER floor.

If this kept up, the ordeal of getting the patient here would have been for nothing.

The patient would die.

‘Not a chance.’

Kang-hyuk stretched his long legs and was at the patient’s side in an instant.

“Oh, Professor Baek!”

“Huh?”

That’s when he noticed.

The person pressing down on the patient’s chest and abdomen all this time was Team Leader Jung-heon.

“This is the last critical patient. The… the rest…”

Jung-heon’s face was extremely grim.

He didn’t say it, but Kang-hyuk understood everything.

‘Everyone who was thrown out died…’

It was a tragedy.

But there was nothing to be done.

No matter how cold it seemed, a doctor couldn’t worry too much about the dead.

Especially not when someone this critical was still alive in front of them.

“This patient… Hmm. Their chest and abdomen… What happened?”

Kang-hyuk quickly gathered himself and asked Jung-heon.

Jung-heon replied, his face snapping back to focus.

“There was playground equipment below, which caused the injuries.”

“So it wasn’t just impaled, but torn out?”

“Yes, the impact at the moment of collision was enormous. Look here…”

Jung-heon carefully revealed the area he’d been pressing.

A spray of red blood shot up at the same time.

But Kang-hyuk could see.

The internal organs visible deep inside the wound.

“The lower abdomen is a problem, but… this area is even worse. Looks like the spleen or kidney’s been damaged… I can’t be sure right now.”

“We’ll only know once we open them up. The lower abdomen doesn’t look good either.”

Kang-hyuk looked at the lower abdominal wound, which was still oozing blood.

He recalled his short conversation with Han Yoo-rim earlier.

‘I’m sure Han Yoo-rim said they had a free pair of hands…’