Chapter 127
“No, Mom, why are you doing this? I could seriously collapse from the shock, you know? You were pounding on your chest earlier too, saying it felt tight.”
The son clung to his mother’s arm with a tearful face.
“Junseo. After sending your father off like that, I really thought I was going out of my mind. I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat. What on earth happened in the ER that someone who walked out fine came out like this? Am I supposed to know just by looking at this scrap of paper?”
With trembling hands, she crumpled the copy of the medical record and pressed hard against her chest.
“I need to see it with my own eyes.”
“Ma’am, I really am speaking from a neutral standpoint, but watching that video itself could muddle the legal judgment, and above all, it may be too much for you to handle emotionally.”
Even the lawyer added, looking troubled.
“Counsel, please wait a moment.”
The mother cut the lawyer off firmly.
“If I watch the video, I’ll know. Whether he was really neglected and left to die unjustly because it was too much trouble, or whether he truly received the best possible treatment until the very end. That’s enough.”
“Ma’am, but—!”
“Enough. I’m watching it.”
It was an atmosphere in which no one could stop her anymore.
We had climbed the biggest mountain.
Now all we had to do was show the truth.
‘I need to give them a heads-up first.’
I glanced at the PD and said politely,
“Ma’am, the video contains unedited footage of the deceased in pain and our medical staff shouting. If at any time, even the slightest bit, you feel uncomfortable watching it, please tell us. We’ll stop playback immediately.”
I looked at the son for a moment.
“And if you experience any physical reactions like shortness of breath or chest pain, I’ll be right here, so I can provide immediate emergency care…”
“I won’t be treated in this hospital—!”
The son tried to shout in outrage.
“Junseo.”
The mother smacked the back of her son’s hand.
Only then did the son clamp his mouth shut and turn his head away.
“Then I’ll play it.”
The PD pressed the Enter key on the laptop with trembling fingers.
The lights in the small conference room went out, and the beam projector lit up the screen.
The ER from that day came back to life on the screen.
Seeing that day again on the monitor felt strangely unsettling and fascinating.
Then the phone rang, and a nurse hurriedly gestured.
The nurse’s expression hardened, and the version of me on screen walked over to check the note.
The version of me on screen clutched his head.
The scene of me checking the operating room status board and the on-call roster displayed on the monitor while shaking my head.
[Today vascular surgery is on call, Professor Song Ji-yeon….]
The version of me on screen tapped his head in distress before finally picking up the receiver.
[Chief, we can’t take them right now. We can’t operate at the moment.]
The lawyer’s eyebrows twitched.
Refusal.
It was the scene of me refusing a patient.
[If you come now, there isn’t a surgeon available for the operation. Anesthesiology is fully tied up too. If you come here, the patient will die waiting. We can’t operate at this hospital right now.]
My voice on screen was firm.
[I’m sorry, but you’ll have to look elsewhere. Please contact another hospital quickly. There’s no time.]
Click.
The call ended.
This video had definitely clarified one thing.
The suspicion that we had deliberately tried to take on patients we couldn’t even care for.
I on screen looked like someone desperate not to accept the patient.
More precisely, I was begging them to find another way to survive because they’d die if they came to our hospital.
Soon after, a scene appeared of the PD asking me on screen.
[Did you refuse because there wasn’t a doctor available to operate just now?]
[Yes. If you look at today’s on-call roster, it’s not that no one is on duty. But I only have one body, and I’m in the operating room. We want to take them too. We want to, but….]
Including the PD’s interview question and my answer.
The lawyer cleared his throat and fiddled with his tie.
The son still looked sullen, but his eyes were no longer as filled with anger as before.
At the very least, he must have realized I hadn’t looked at his father as a way to make money.
Time passed on the screen.
Twelve minutes.
The phone rang again.
The nurse answered it, and I ran over and snatched the handset.
Han Hyeonjae on screen squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again.
Agony.
Conflict.
And resolve.
[Chief, we’ll do everything we can to treat that patient, at least. We can’t promise surgery. If you come in, we’ll at least handle the emergency treatment in the ER. Come here.]
When that line came up, both of their expressions changed.
The wife leaned forward, holding her breath, and the son bit his lip.
Even our legal affairs manager was watching the video with an amazed expression.
[Let’s set up the resuscitation area! Everyone on the team, gather up! rAAA shock patient incoming!]
The version of me on screen ran around like a madman.
[Bring out every unit of O-negative blood we have. Call the blood bank right now and tell them to prepare the massive transfusion protocol!]
In the lower right corner, there was even a rough-edited subtitle conveniently explaining the massive transfusion protocol.
And the highlight was the conversation with Park Se-young.
Park Se-young on screen shouted.
[Hey! Why would you take an rAAA patient when you don’t even have an operating room? Are you crazy?]
‘Why did you take them if you couldn’t even operate?’
Han Hyeonjae on screen replied.
[They said he’d been rejected everywhere, so I wanted to at least try treating him. Even if another hospital in a different region accepts him, isn’t it better to at least start transfusing him before sending him?]
[How are you going to do that? There’s no doctor to open his abdomen.]
[We’ll have to try to hold on by giving him blood.]
…
Silence flowed through the conference room.
The noise in the video and the stillness in reality formed a bizarre contrast.
Then.
“Hng….”
The deceased’s wife covered her face with her hands.
“Waaah….”
The lawyer pressed his lips together, took off his glasses, and set them on the table.
Click.
The screen paused.
I turned my gaze from the screen and looked at her, seated opposite me.
“Ma’am. From here on, the treatment scenes we carried out will be described very directly and starkly.”
I paused for a moment.
“You may be very shocked. Do you really want to continue?”
She bit her trembling lip hard.
Her son, sitting beside her, gripped her arm anxiously, but she nodded.
“It’s okay. Please show me.”
“…Understood.”
The play button was pressed again, and the frozen time began to move.
[Don’t come in here! Don’t come in, and stay by the station phone!]
Han Hyeonjae on screen yelled at the top of his lungs.
[What? Then I….]
[Search every hospital! Any hospital that can operate on an rAAA, any hospital with an open operating room right now—call around and find one fast! Be ready to send the patient as soon as the vitals are stabilized!]
Desperation.
Soon after, the scene of the patient being brought in followed.
Tearing open clothes, securing lines, hooking up machines—it was utter chaos.
Nurses ran around with blood packs, while the doctor, drenched in a cold sweat, tried REBOA.
The son hung his head deeply, no longer able to look straight at the screen, covering his face with his palm.
And then, the moment of fate.
[Inflate the balloon!]
The moment after REBOA succeeded.
But the numbers on the blood pressure monitor did not rise.
The dull thud of chest compressions rang out.
Ten minutes. Twenty minutes. Thirty minutes.
No one gave up.
Even though his heart had long since stopped, we clung to the patient like madmen and wouldn’t let go.
[We’ve done all we can. Let him go.]
On screen, I stood there dazed, then slowly nodded and checked the clock.
And then the video ended.
The small conference room was filled only with sobbing.
The wife was bent over the table, her shoulders shaking as she wailed, while the son had turned his head away and was roughly wiping his red-rimmed eyes with the back of his hand.
“Doctor….”
She couldn’t continue.
He hadn’t been neglected.
He hadn’t been abandoned.
The fact that so many people had drenched themselves in sweat and blood while hoping to resuscitate him on his final journey.
That was comforting her shattered heart, even if only a little.
“Yes. It’s okay….”
I answered with a voice choked tight.
“Your husband held on until the very end.”
Then the lawyer cleared his throat and opened his mouth.
“…Ma’am, no matter how intense it looks in the video, legally we still have to examine whether there was a duty to foresee the outcome and whether the transfer measures were appropriate. That doesn’t erase negligence….”
“Counsel.”
Then our hospital’s legal affairs manager, who had been silent, cut him off coldly.
“If this goes to the arbitration board, the medical judgment will be settled there, won’t it? I think continuing this discussion here in front of the bereaved family is pointless. It would also be disrespectful to the deceased.”
“…Ahem.”
The lawyer seemed about to object, then sensed the mood had already shifted and shut his mouth.
With the bereaved family who had hired him already having changed their minds, there was no way for their representative to jump in and stir up a fight.
“Then we’ll contact you in writing later, according to the arbitration board procedures.”
The lawyer picked up his briefcase and rose from his seat.
The deceased’s son stood up.
He stared at the floor for a long moment, then slowly turned toward me.
Then he bowed deeply.
“….”
He said nothing, but the weight of the apology in that silence was palpable.
A moment later, the deceased’s wife, her face flushed red, spoke to me again.
“Doctor. I’m sorry. Truly. I really wasn’t in my right mind after losing my husband like that….”
She grabbed my hand and burst into tears once more.
“You were the one who stayed by his side until the very end, and I treated you like a criminal just because of one person’s words….”
Hot tears dripped onto the back of my hand.
My nose stung before I knew it.
Feeling wronged?
Anger?
“No. Really. No, it’s truly okay.”
I held her hand.
“I’m sorry. In the end, I couldn’t do it for him. That’s all I’m sorry for.”
In response to my apology, the son standing beside her added,
“I’m sorry for speaking so harshly at the beginning. I didn’t really understand, and I got worked up without thinking because everyone kept egging me on… I’m ashamed, that’s all.”
The son kept his head bowed, his face bright red.
The hostility in his eyes was completely gone now.
“Not at all. You’ve lost a family member, so it’s understandable to be that angry.”
“We absolutely won’t go through with the suit. I’ll tell the lawyer to withdraw it.”
The son said firmly.
“Ah, but the paperwork has already been sent to the arbitration board, so procedurally it may not be possible to cancel it immediately….”
“Ah, it’s fine. It’s okay.”
I waved it off.
“The arbitration process can be handled by explaining the medical facts. What’s important is that the two of you have calmed down. That’s enough for me.”
“Yes. Thank you… I’m sorry….”
The mother and son bowed their heads repeatedly in thanks, then supported each other as they left the small conference room.
Their backs still looked sad, but at least they seemed less fragile than when they’d come in.
The door closed, and silence filled the room again.
The PD, crumpled up in a corner, finally relaxed and sank down with a thud.
The legal affairs manager gave me a thumbs-up.
I sank deep into my chair and looked up at the ceiling.
‘…Right.’
It felt like one of the boulders pressing down on my chest had rolled away.
So it really hadn’t been because they hated me after all.
And they had forgiven me now.
I forgave them too.
‘That’s it.’
I closed my eyes and gave a faint smile.
‘That was enough.’
Though the wound remained, it had healed well before it could become a scar.