Chapter 128
Beep.
Ding-ding-
When I held my employee ID to the reader, the automatic door slid open with a cheerful electronic chime.
The familiar air rushed over me the moment the door opened.
The smell of disinfectant and alcohol.
Until just a few days ago, I had been crossing this threshold with a heavy heart.
But today, for some reason, that air felt oddly refreshing.
I took a deep breath and stepped into the nurses' station.
Familiar faces came into view.
The nurses, hollow-eyed from all-nighters, the dozing intern, and...
“Good morning. Good to see you.”
When I greeted them brightly, Lee Minjae, who was in the middle of taking off his gown at the center of the station, turned his head.
He was probably getting ready to go home.
“Hyeonjae? You look good.”
Lee Minjae looked me up and down, then grinned and tugged at the collar of his gown.
“Haha. Well, yeah...”
“Ah~ I can tell at a glance that you've just cleared up your legal risk? Right? It's resolved, isn't it?”
This guy's eyes couldn't be fooled.
He was even more ghostlike than a ghost.
“Well, it just sort of happened. The misunderstanding with the bereaved family was cleared up, and they've agreed to withdraw the lawsuit.”
“See? I told you nothing would happen.”
Lee Minjae took a sip of coffee.
Then he clicked his tongue with a deliberately disappointed look.
“Yeah, yeah. I'm glad it worked out, but it's quite a shame I can't introduce you to my friend.”
“Huh?”
“That lawyer friend of mine. He said he was all ready to square off with a prosecutor. He'd been sharpening his knives.”
“...”
“What a shame. I was looking forward to seeing him shout, ‘Objection!’ at the judge in person.”
He can't mean a physical fight, right?
But if his friend had a personality anything like Lee Minjae's, I had a reasonable suspicion he'd have been perfectly capable of causing a scene in court.
“Anyway, it's good that it got resolved. Congrats, Hyeonjae.”
Lee Minjae gave my shoulder a light smack.
“You can check the overall handoff on the computer. I'll tell you about the main patients. They're all mild cases, so nothing much.”
He clicked the patient list with the mouse.
“Bed 11 in Zone B is a 42-year-old male, suspected kidney stone. We gave him painkillers and the pain settled, but the CT results aren't back yet, so he's waiting. We confirmed blood in his urine, so that's probably it. When the results come out, either call urology for a consult or discharge him—your call.”
“Yeah, yeah. Nothing difficult.”
“And Bed 17 in Zone B. An elderly woman in her seventies. She came in with a high fever, and the lab results should be out around 9:30. Doesn't look like sepsis, but check whether the inflammatory markers spike... If the labs are off, consult infectious diseases. Otherwise, give her an antipyretic and send her home.”
“Got it.”
I nodded.
It was a normal morning handoff.
“Then take it easy. I'm heading out.”
Lee Minjae picked up his bag.
“Have a good clock-out. You worked hard.”
“I will, no worries. Oh right. You know who's on day shift today, right?”
Lee Minjae stopped as he was leaving and asked, turning back.
“Who is it?”
“The chief.”
“Oh, really?”
“You didn't check? The chief seemed in a pretty good mood today. He even bought me coffee this morning and said I'd had a hard time. He'll probably have something nice to say to you too.”
Lee Minjae laughed.
“And what's-his-face. The first-year working with you today. That energetic kid. The... I can't remember his name all of a sudden. I know it, though.”
“Eun-seo?”
“Oh, right. Smart Baek.”
“Smart Baek?”
“Yeah. Smart, so Smart Baek. That kid really doesn't seem like a first-year at all, the way they ask questions and handle their work. So you should watch yourself too. You don't want to get eaten alive by your junior.”
“Why don't you call me Smart Han? I'm pretty smart too.”
When I asked in protest, Lee Minjae slung his bag over his shoulder and looked at me with a thoroughly pitiful expression.
“Shut up, Han Hyeonjae from Emergency Medicine.”
Lee Minjae snorted and waved.
“Take care!”
“Yep... Have a safe trip home.”
And just like that, Lee Minjae vanished like the wind.
This was the place I came back to after the threat of a lawsuit wore me down and left me mentally exhausted.
I sat down in my chair and grabbed the mouse.
The cold touch beneath my fingertips didn't feel unfamiliar.
“So I'm really back now.”
My precious workplace.
Let's make it through today safely too.
***
“Doctor, there’s a DI
(* drug intoxication)
patient, you know.”
At the voice coming from behind me, my spine stiffened reflexively.
First-year Baek Eun-seo stood there holding a sheet of paper, eyes sparkling.
“Huh? All of a sudden? There aren't any DI patients right now.”
“No. There aren't any right now, but while studying I got curious about something.”
Baek Eun-seo came closer.
“Let's say a patient is taking lithium and valproate together.”
“Hmm, I guess that's a bipolar patient?”
I tried to bluff my way through as best I could.
“Ah, yes, yes. Anyway, I know lithium needs immediate dialysis if toxic levels show up.”
“Right.”
“But what if this patient also has serotonin syndrome? If we need to use cyproheptadine, should we give it during dialysis? Or after dialysis? If we give it during dialysis, it feels like the effect might get washed out. But if we wait until after, the serotonin syndrome might get worse...”
“...”
My brain cells screamed.
Hey.
I'm in emergency medicine.
That's the kind of issue the nephrology doctor and the psychiatry professor should be putting their heads together over.
I looked at the clock with a grave expression.
“Eun-seo. That's an excellent question, but...”
“Yes!”
“Nephrology will handle it.”
“Huh?”
“I just suddenly remembered a very urgent-looking... runny-nose patient over in Zone B, so I'll be off!”
“What?!”
I slipped out of the station, leaving Baek Eun-seo's desperate call behind me.
That was dangerous. If she'd kept me any longer, I might have ended up studying drug mechanisms again.
‘I need to escape question hell.’
Of course, I do answer most questions.
I'm a senior, after all.
But Baek Eun-seo's questions go way, way past the line.
Just yesterday, for example, she sent a text about ventilator mode settings for pufferfish toxin poisoning...
Ha, no.
Let's stop thinking about that.
My head hurts.
While I was running away, I'd somehow ended up near Zone B, and just then a bed caught my eye.
‘This patient has orders, but no line has been placed yet...’
Looking around, the nurses all seemed too busy amid the chaos of battle to notice.
Can't be helped.
This second-year ace would have to place the line.
I confidently took hold of the patient's arm.
“This'll sting a little. I'll get the vein.”
I tied on the tourniquet and searched for a vein.
A very robust vein was running right there.
The angle was good.
The thickness was good.
Thunk.
The needle went in smoothly.
Nice.
The moment I pushed in the catheter.
Swoosh.
The sensation of puncturing through something felt strange.
At the same time, the injection site instantly bruised and swelled up.
“Ah...”
The vein had burst because it was fragile.
Blood leaked out of the vein and pooled beneath the skin.
It's a common occurrence that's no problem as long as you stop the bleeding properly.
“Patient? The vein burst a little. I'll stop the bleeding and try again~.”
At that moment, the patient's eyes widened in terror.
“What? It burst?!”
The patient screamed.
“The vein exploded?! Inside my arm?! Aaaah! Am I going to die?!”
“No, patient! I mean it didn't explode—just a small hole opened up and a bit of blood leaked out...”
“It's bleeding?! From my arm?! Blood?!”
“Ha.”
I pressed a hand to my forehead.
The situation only ended after a veteran nurse rushed over.
***
And so, the ER was eventful again today—well, the kind of place I had to hypnotize myself into thinking was peaceful just to get through it.
Ah, are the words ‘peaceful’ and ‘eventful’ incompatible?
They do here.
If you're alive, then it's peaceful.
I sat back down at the computer and started the discharge process.
“KTAS... level five.... click.”
Low-acuity patient.
A cold, a simple abrasion, chronic indigestion.
“The test results are all normal. The prescription has been sent, so please pay at the desk and you can be discharged.”
“Yes, yes. Good grief, why does it take so long just to get seen here? Seeing a doctor is harder than picking stars from the sky.”
The patient grumbled as he took the prescription.
‘You should've gone to a neighborhood clinic; you'd have been seen right away...’
I swallowed what I wanted to say and sat back down in my chair.
“Take care.”
A little while after the patient left, shouting erupted from the reception desk.
“What is this! Does this make any sense?!”
A familiar refrain.
I shook my head.
‘Hmm, it's the ER billing desk. Here we go again.’
“Why is it so expensive?! What exactly did I even do! I get one shot and a few meds, and it's 80,000 won? 90,000 won? You're thieves, not a hospital!”
The patient's indignant cry echoed through the ER lobby.
But it couldn't be helped.
‘That's the price you pay when a mild case uses a regional center.’
That's a rule set by the state.
For emergency care fees, the cost rises step by step from local hospitals to local centers to regional centers.
So when it's a mild case but it's the middle of the night and I feel like I'm going to die from the pain, I usually go to a local hospital.
The neighborhood hospital ER is the best.
“The ER is very peaceful again today.”
I snickered and opened the next chart.
That's when it happened.
“Doctor.”
“Huh? Yes?”
A chill voice came from behind me.
I flinched reflexively.
Baek Eun-seo again?
Did she bring another paper?
But when I turned around, the person who'd called me was veteran nurse Jung.
“Ah, you startled me. It was you, nurse.”
“Why are you so surprised? Like a thief caught in the act.”
“It's really scary. Nurse Jung's voice...”
Unexpectedly, Nurse Jung's voice had a tone similar to Baek Eun-seo's, and I'd been startled by it more than once because of that.
That ‘Doctor~’ tone strangely overlapped with Baek Eun-seo's question-barrage tone.
It's the way you flinch, thinking she's about to bombard you with another question, then relax once you realize it's Nurse Jung.
“Did you hear? These days the hospital's really cracking down.”
“On what?”
“You know those hustlers.”
“Hustlers? Pharmaceutical reps? But they aren't allowed into the hospital proper anyway.”
“No, not the medicine sellers. Those people. You know.”
Nurse Jung drew a rectangle in the air with her finger, like a business card.
“Apparently, some nasty law firms and, what was it, claims adjusters? insurance brokers?—the sort who'd been hanging around funeral homes or the ER lately—had also been out there soliciting business?”
“Really?”
Only then did I catch on.
Hyenas who loitered near the ER and approached accident victims or bereaved families, trying to tempt them with lawsuits or insurance payouts.
“But why?”
“This time the vice director issued a very strong order through the department, so Security was told to block them all and keep them away.”
Nurse Jung continued the conversation while clacking away at the keyboard.
“But apparently one of them was caught handing out business cards without even reading the room? They immediately filed a criminal complaint for obstruction of business and trespassing.”
“They're coming down hard.”
“Right? From what I heard, they're pretty nasty. Sounds like they're somewhat famous too.”
“Pfft.”
I burst out laughing without realizing it.
Ah, I think I know who it is.
They must have held a grudge, or else come to hustle as usual and gotten caught right in our hospital vice director's crosshairs.
Who is Vice Director Yoon Tae-ryong?
Wasn't he the bulldozer of a man who'd rewrite hospital rules just to get one person airlifted?
“Oh, really? There sure are a lot of interesting things happening at the hospital lately. Haha.”
“Dr. Han, you seem in a really good mood. Did something good happen?”
Nurse Jung asked in confusion.
“Maybe it's because my skin's been looking better lately.”
I shamelessly stroked my cheek.
“Hmm... I don't think Dr. Han's skin is particularly good, though.”
Nurse Jung stared straight at my face and hit me with a fact bomb.
“Your dark circles are hanging all the way down to your chin.”
“I feel like you've taken a bit of a hit to the heart, doctor...”
“I'm joking. You look good.”
Nurse Jung laughed and went back to her patient, and I sank deep into my chair.
The smile on my lips wouldn't fade.
Anyway, I felt a little relieved.
It felt like the pressure that had been clogging me up had suddenly gone down.
Because even without naming anyone outright, I could tell who it was.
Isn't justice something like that?
It's hearing that the guy who'd been tormenting me went somewhere else and got a proper lesson.
That's the best kind of healing.
Today, the ER air felt especially clear.