Chapter 133
The awkward boundary between autumn and winter, as the chilly fall breeze gradually died down and the weather started turning properly cold.
The leaves had already all fallen, rustling as they rolled around on the ground.
It was the kind of season where a padded jacket felt a little too much, but a coat would freeze you to death.
I was wedged into the back seat of a taxi on my way to work, reading the dead medical forum and smiling to myself.
Hell Joseon Slave 1: For real? There are actually people who come in with frozen dicks? That place gets so much blood flow, how could that even...?
ㄴ God of Scalpels: You should be a little more suspicious of people.
ㄴ Hell Joseon Slave 1: No, because you usually only give sound advice, so I trusted you.
ㄴ Back in My Day: That's the problem. Kids these days have no ability to verify things.
ㄴ Hell Joseon Slave 1: Shut the hell up.
“Pffft.”
I was reading a banter post to cool off after wrapping up the seasonal respiratory-illness special lecture, but I couldn't hold back my laughter.
Snicker.
I could feel the taxi driver's eyes flicking toward me in the rearview mirror.
I quickly composed my expression and looked out the window.
For reference, that respiratory disease special lecture wasn't some grand in-house internal medicine workshop or symposium or anything.
To put it another way, it was the ghostly hive mind of the gallery board, made up solely of text and comments—what you'd really call backseat advice.
But the funny thing is, it helps a lot.
'If you get a hemoptysis patient, don't panic and just lay them on their side first. Securing the airway comes first.'
'Don't skimp on bronchodilators.'
It was then.
Screeeech-!
The taxi slammed on the brakes, and my body lurched forward.
The seat belt smacked hard into my collarbone.
“Oof!”
“Well, here we are, sir. In front of the hospital.”
The driver casually pressed the meter button, and I, still dazed, handed over my card.
“Thanks, driver. Safe driving... uh. Never mind. You can go now.”
“Yes, take care!”
Vrooom-
The taxi shot off like a bullet the moment I closed the door.
'Mm, no matter how you look at it, 90 kilometers an hour on city roads is a bit much.'
I shook my head, watching the taxi disappear into the distance.
Just because he was carrying a doctor to the ER didn't mean the driver had to drive like it was an emergency too.
I almost came in as a patient instead of a doctor.
“Hoo.”
I tightened my collar and inhaled the cold air.
Taxi fare: 12,000 won.
I had become the kind of cool adult who takes taxis.
Hehe.
You need little indulgences like this just to survive life as a second-year resident.
I looked up at the Emergency Medical Center building.
My workplace, and a place I both love and hate.
“Let's go.”
I steadied myself and walked toward the automatic doors at the entrance.
Whirr-
“Dr. Han clocked in?”
A nurse at triage greeted me warmly.
“Yep, clocking in~ Thanks for your hard work.”
I gave a familiar nod and naturally headed toward the resident room.
With every step of my trudging feet, the memories of the past drifted by.
Before I knew it, I’d come this far.
Well, my second year is almost over now... though saying it's "almost over" is a bit much; there are still about four months left.
'Anyway, what a hectic second year this has been.'
Looking back, it was spectacular in every sense.
I probably did REBOA on the very first day.
What came after that?
I can't even remember.
'Oh right. The helicopter.'
I took a helicopter ride for the first time this year, too.
The sheer absurdity of ending up assigned to the doctor helicopter as part of a scheme(?) by the trauma surgery professor and the vice director.
The first time I rode it, I nearly threw up from motion sickness and my ears went numb from the noise.
After that, well... actually, helicopter duty didn't come my way all that often.
I guess that's because, even though I was included as an official member, I was still just a green resident nobody.
The professors probably didn't want to put a resident on board unless it was truly urgent.
Even from a risk-management standpoint.
'Five times? Maybe?'
Thinking back to summer, was that actually quite a lot for a resident?
The view from above was beautiful, but all I remember is staring at the monitor the whole time instead of sightseeing while I kept trying to catch the patient's vitals in that cramped aircraft.
Anyway, I survived.
I even got sued.
I even made it onto TV.
I even rode a helicopter.
At this point, as a second-year emergency medicine resident, I'd been through every hardship imaginable. Heck, even aerial combat.
Before I knew it, I'd arrived in the locker room.
Once I was fully geared up and stepped into the station, my co-resident Kim Ji-hoon, who had worked the night shift, was waiting for me with a zombie-like face.
The dark circles under his eyes looked like they were about to drop to his chin.
“You're here?”
Kim Ji-hoon asked in a weak voice.
“Yeah. You worked hard overnight. Were there a lot of patients today?”
“Don't ask. I think we had at least ten people come in after drinking and falling over. I was stitching them up and almost got a cramp in my fingers.”
“Yeah, yeah. Good work.”
I patted Kim Ji-hoon's shoulder.
“Honestly, that was just something I said for appearances' sake. It wasn't my problem.”
“Asshole.”
“Kidding. Anyway, go rest. You should get home and sleep already, shouldn't you?”
Kim Ji-hoon snickered and pointed at the monitor.
“Oh, and around 9:10, through Lab Medicine
(* Diagnostic Laboratory Medicine)
we'll get one test result back for the A-9 patient, you know?”
“Huh? What's up with that patient?”
“A man in his 50s came in with a fever
(* fever)
but the abdominal pain was a bit vague. It wasn't where I'd expect appendicitis to be, and it looked like diverticulitis, so I got a CT, but it wasn't conclusive, so I called in an internal medicine consult.”
Kim Ji-hoon yawned and went on.
“But internal medicine saw the CRP and procalcitonin results and told us to notify them again, so they declined the ward admission. So once the results come out, we have to call them back and put in the admission order.”
“Tch... what a hassle.”
A patient with vague abdominal pain and a fever.
The kind of case that's awkward to admit and awkward to send home.
“All right, got it for now. I'll keep an eye on it. Anything else I should know?”
“No. I left the main points for the rest in the handoff note.”
“Okay~ Perfect.”
I nudged Kim Ji-hoon in the back.
“Hurry up and go.”
“Ah, right. Actually, there's something else you should know.”
Kim Ji-hoon stopped mid-motion, his bag half slung on.
“There's a woman in her 20s in B-12 with a 1 cm cut above her eyebrow, and she's throwing a fit, demanding plastics. She's still waiting because I explained that plastic surgery is in the middle of an OR case and can't come down, but she's being impossible. Anyway, good luck.”
“You should tell me things sooner. You can't just drop this crap on me at the last second.”
“Sorry. Oh, right, today's shift is with the chief and Seong-jeong, right? Anyway, good luck~”
Kim Ji-hoon left the station with a devilish smile.
“Yeah. Get out of here already.”
I flipped Kim Ji-hoon the middle finger as he walked away, then sat down in my chair.
So it's the chief and first-year Park Seong-jeong.
As for Dr. Choi Soo-min, they'd handle the critical patients.
Then I'll just take Park Seong-jeong, play middleman, handle the minor cases, and sort out the ambiguous ones like A-9.
“Hoo.”
I turned on the monitor and logged in.
A densely packed patient list.
Flashing red letters.
“Oh, you're here already?”
Just as I was about to look over the computer, fourth-year Choi Soo-min appeared from somewhere and greeted me with a friendly smile.
“Yes, Doctor! Good morning.”
I bowed politely.
Even as a fourth-year, Choi Soo-min was still called the ER's angel.
Dr. Choi Soo-min didn't bully juniors, handled work neatly, and even bought meals often.
Best chief ever.
'Wait. Last year's chief was the mad dog Lee Minjae, and this year's chief is Angel Dr. Choi Soo-min, so...'
The age of tyranny was over and the age of benevolent rule had arrived, but sadly, that era of peace only had a few months left.
'Next year's chief is Nam Joo-hyeon...?'
At that thought, my face twisted.
Third-year Nam Joo-hyeon.
'Ugh. I hate that guy.'
Just imagining the chief regime that would unfold starting next March made my stomach cramp already.
I shook my head and came back to reality.
“Anyway, work hard~”
Dr. Choi Soo-min sipped coffee and offered encouragement.
“Yes. I'll work hard today too.”
Well, that's not a bad start.
If your superior is good, half the shift is already taken care of.
***
About an hour after clocking in.
I was sunk deep into my chair, feeling a strange, inexplicable boredom.
“What is this?”
I stared blankly at the monitor.
The patients who needed admission to the ward had all been sorted and sent up.
The mild cases to be discharged had been sent out.
The waiting patients whose test results were still pending hadn't gotten them yet.
And above all, there weren't any critically ill patients who needed urgent treatment.
'What is this boredom?'
Usually, once everything was handled, it didn't feel this boring or empty, did it?
…
“Ah!”
One noisy person popped into my head.
No, to be exact, two people.
Come to think of it, lately I'd been working a lot of overlapping shifts with Lee Minjae and Baek Eun-seo.
One is my direct superior who keeps trying to shoot the breeze with me like we're neighborhood brothers, and the other is a newbie trying to bury me under academic nonsense.
I clicked my tongue, but at the same time I had to admit it.
That the ER was unbelievably quiet without those noisy people around.
I glanced over at the seat beside me.
First-year Park Seong-jeong was staring only at the monitor.
Not a word.
No questions.
Just quietly tapping away at the keyboard.
'Park Seong-jeong seems like a pretty quiet type, so that's a relief?'
Looks like the type who just quietly does the work, without dragging people into question hell like Baek Eun-seo.
Yeah, a first-year should have that kind of seriousness.
I breathed a sigh of relief and turned my gaze back to my monitor.
I was going through the newly registered patient list.
A patient who came in for ankle pain.
But something was strange.
The note the triage nurse had just left said the patient was complaining of right ankle pain, but the X-ray order in the prescription window was [Lt. Ankle AP/Lat (left ankle)].
“...Hm?”
I rubbed my eyes and checked again.
The patient came in saying the right side hurt, but the X-ray had been ordered for the left side.
I quietly called to Park Seong-jeong beside me.
“Seong-jeong.”
“Yes, Doctor.”
Park Seong-jeong answered.
“Earlier ankle patient—the nurse's chart says the right ankle was sprained, so why did you order a left ankle X-ray?”
“...Ah.”
Park Seong-jeong's face instantly went pale.
“Sorry. I'll fix it right away!”
“Yeah. If left and right get switched, that's a big problem. Get your head in the game. If the right ankle hurts and you X-ray the left, you have to do it again. That's double the radiation dose.”
“Yes. I'll be more careful.”
Park Seong-jeong hurriedly canceled the order and entered it again.
“Let's fix it. Stay calm, stay calm.”
I brushed it off lightly.
Well, mistakes happen when you're busy.
After seeing nothing but monsters like Baek Eun-seo, a normal first-year actually feels kind of human.
…
Then, ten minutes later.
“Seong-jeong, I don't think this patient got an NPO order sent out.”
“Seong-jeong, why didn't you write the size down when you inserted the Levin tube?”
“Seong-jeong, this order...”
Ah.
Something feels off today.