Who Will Run It (2)

“The Marine Medical Center doesn't treat civilians! It's only for military personnel!”

Baek Eun-seo shouted as she set down the receiver.

"And the trip to Samcheonpo Hospital is an hour by car at this hour of night, and even if the ambulance can cut through traffic fast, wouldn't it still take over 40 minutes? Add the transport prep time, and we'd miss the golden hour."

40 minutes.

By then, the nitrogen bubbles will have pressed on the patient's spinal nerves, leaving them in an irrecoverable state.

Permanent paralysis from the waist down.

In other words, even if we leave now, by the time we reach the hospital, the patient's lower body will never come back.

"Haa..."

Professor Kim Su-rim rubbed her face with both hands.

The situation was at its worst.

There's a facility, but no one to operate it, so they can't treat the patient.

And so, a fierce discussion broke out between the two professors.

"Professor Park. This won't work. The risk is too high."

Professor Kim Su-rim said.

"It's true that there are EMTs and nurses who can run it, but in the end a doctor has to give the order, and the doctor has to decide the pressure setting."

Professor Kim was right.

In hyperbaric oxygen therapy, tiny differences in the setup can save the patient—or, on the contrary, cause oxygen toxicity and convulsions.

"How are we supposed to just wing it, when we're not even experts, by flipping through a textbook or a guideline? What if an accident happens? What if the patient's eardrum bursts, or their lungs burst? That's all on us."

"Still, Professor Kim. If we don't run it right now, the patient will be in a wheelchair for life..."

Professor Park Se-young also bit her lip, looking stumped.

"It makes no sense to have the facility and not be able to use it."

"There's no doctor, that's why."

Time was slipping away mercilessly.

The patient's legs were steadily losing sensation.

'Damn it.'

It was already do-or-die.

"Um, uh... I can do it."

…

"Huh?"

"What?"

The two professors turned to look at me at the same time.

Even Baek Eun-seo, standing beside them, looked at me with wide eyes.

"What are you talking about? You're a resident, aren't you?"

Professor Kim Su-rim frowned deeply.

It was enough to make anyone scoff—some hoodie-wearing resident claiming to know a specialist field like hyperbaric medicine...

"I'm Han Hyeonjae, a third-year resident in emergency medicine."

"But you can run a chamber? Hyperbaric oxygen therapy? This isn't something every big university hospital even has, and I never even got to see one during training. And you're only a third-year resident."

Professor Kim Su-rim's doubt was reasonable.

Hyperbaric medicine isn't a required part of emergency medicine resident training.

No, come to think of it, it's barely even an elective.

"Don't get carried away by some hero complex and make a reckless move. Go find another transfer hospital quickly. Don't go causing trouble."

Professor Kim waved her hand and tried to turn away.

'Damn it.'

This would be a complete bust.

Logic wouldn't persuade her.

And I couldn't very well say that a ghost doctor lives in the forum I use.

I needed evidence.

A strong excuse that would lend credibility to the claim that I could do this.

I frantically racked my brains.

Wait.

'Professor Kim Su-rim came from another university hospital, didn't she?'

I thought of a way.

A lie by appeal to authority.

And make her an accomplice.

"Yes. That is... at the main hospital! There's one at the main hospital!"

I just blurted it out.

"I learned how to operate it while training at the main hospital!"

The main hospital does have a chamber.

There's a tiny one-person chamber shoved in a corner, but it's not even under emergency medicine's jurisdiction, and no resident would ever have a reason to touch it.

But from the profile I saw during the all-hospital orientation, she looked like a doctor with no connection to Busan whatsoever.

So if I insisted it had always been there and I'd trained on it, there was no way to check right away.

I looked at Park Se-young shamelessly.

'Professor Park Se-young. Please. Seriously. I'm the Han Hyeonjae who did a laparotomy on you when you were a fellow. Please trust me.'

Professor Park Se-young knows the main hospital's situation.

She knows I'm bluffing, too.

But she knows my skill too.

To be precise, the gallery folks' skill.

"Hmph. Professor Park, really? Is chamber operation included in the main hospital training curriculum?"

Professor Kim Su-rim asked Park Se-young with suspicious eyes.

Park Se-young's eyes wavered.

Should I lie or not?

.

.

.

"Ah, yes, yes. That's right. It is. Of course."

Park Se-young awkwardly smiled and chimed in.

"Hyeonjae was really good at that too... unbelievably good. He has a knack for handling machines too, and he was such an ace that professors from other departments wanted to poach him."

See?

You don't get to be called professor for nothing.

"Hmm..."

Professor Kim Su-rim still looked unconvinced.

But if the main hospital people say so, what can she do?

"Then wouldn't it be better for Professor Park to do it...?"

Professor Kim Su-rim asked.

The logic was that if a resident learned it, then Professor Park, who was a fellow, should obviously be able to do it too.

Park Se-young got through the crisis with impressive smoothness.

"When I was a resident, it was unfortunately before the equipment had been introduced~ and after my fellowship I specialized in toxicology, so I'm fine on that side. There's a bit of a generational gap."

Oh.

Look at this person.

Her bluff was excellent—completely the opposite of the Scalpel God.

'Haa...'

Professor Kim Su-rim fell into thought.

If we send the patient, it's a hundred percent paralysis.

If we run it here, it's a huge win if it succeeds and a medical accident if it fails.

All or nothing.

'Please let this make sense. Please.'

I prayed inwardly.

In the end, Professor Kim Su-rim nodded.

“Alright.”

She looked at me and said,

"Then you. Han... Hyeonjae. You're in charge of the treatment."

"Yup!"

"But the problem is, we need medical staff to go in with the patient..."

The chamber is a high-pressure environment.

We can't put a patient in there alone if they're in bad shape.

If pressure equalization doesn't go right, their eardrums could burst, so someone there to care for them is essential.

"Who'll go in? First-years can't."

"I've got someone suitable."

I very politely pointed at Professor Park Se-young.

"Professor Park seems like the right person."

"...Huh?"

Park Se-young's face stiffened.

"Since you're a toxicology specialist, you'd be best equipped to handle oxygen toxicity that can occur during hyperbaric oxygen therapy, too. Who better to rely on than a professor like you?"

I drove the point home.

"Right, Professor?"

…

And so the patient transfer began.

The bed's wheels rolled down the corridor leading underground.

For the record, that doesn't mean I'm the engineer sitting in front of the machine, pressing buttons and turning valves myself.

That's the dedicated nurse's job.

My role is to look at the patient's condition, decide how much to raise the pressure, how much to reduce the oxygen, and how to set the treatment schedule, then give the order.

Of course, the ghosts were practically going to handle all of that.

"I'll stay in the ER. Call me right away if anything happens."

Professor Kim Su-rim waved from in front of the elevator.

Relief, as if she'd handed off a bomb, seemed to flicker across her face.

"Yes, Professor."

As soon as the elevator doors closed, Professor Park Se-young opened her mouth in a voice full of grievance.

"But why do I have to...?"

She looked down at her coat and lamented.

"I was on day shift today. It's night now. So why do I have to go into the rice cooker right now?"

"Professor. Think about it. You're a day-shift worker. Your shift already ended. By the hospital system, you're not on duty right now."

"So?"

"Then the current you is surplus manpower. From the hospital's perspective, you're a free spirit who can be there or not. So leaving the ER is basically the same as not creating a staffing gap, since you're not someone who'd be in the ER anyway."

I gave a thumbs-up.

"So there won't be any ER staffing gap. Besides, a free spirit after work going into the chamber? That's practically noble medical volunteer work."

"Hmm..."

Park Se-young's ears perked up.

"Come to think of it, that makes sense. You're right, but..."

Park Se-young brushed her hair back.

"It's logical, but somehow infuriating. By your logic, I'm a volunteer right now."

"That's right. You're the Schweitzer of Geoje Island."

"Sigh... Fine, fine. If I go in, I go in."

Behind me, Baek Eun-seo was following with eyes full of admiration and shock.

She seemed amazed by my bargaining power, enough to make even the four-dollar Kim Doo-han, who offered up a senior colleague to save the patient, look tame by comparison.

When the elevator arrived, I quickly pulled up the forum during the short ride.

[Dead Doctors Gallery]

==================

@Back in My Day and anyone else who can handle the chamber, assemble

Author: Hell Joseon Slave 1

(Photo attached)

Patient suspected DCS Type 2. Paralysis below T12. Onset 30 minutes ago.

Need chamber help!!!

==================

After waiting about 20 seconds, an alarm went off.

[Comments]

Scalpel God: What's a chamber? Is it edible?

ㄴ ㅇㅇ(118.235) : It's like a rice cooker. You don't need to know.

Back in My Day: Might as well follow USN TT6. That's the standard.

ㄴ Back in My Day: Crank the initial pressure all the way up to 60 fsw, and alternate oxygen and air breaks.

ㄴ Back in My Day: The total treatment time should be around five hours.

'Oh dear.'

I looked at Park Se-young beside me with a sympathetic expression.

She said she'd already been to the bathroom, and the risks had all been handled, but...

"What? Why? Why are you looking at me like that?"

Park Se-young snapped at me after noticing my gaze.

Something about her made her look a little pitiful.

"I'm not lying. I just got misty-eyed at the professor's spirit of sacrifice."

"Don't lie."

"No way. Let's go in."

…

"Oxygen tank pressure confirmed. Communication equipment checks are done."

"Good. Please put the patient in right away."

Park Se-young let out a long sigh and stepped into the chamber.

The patient, on the stretcher, followed behind her.

Clunk-

The heavy steel door closed, and I heard the lever turn.

I began reciting the ghosts' comments in a very professional-sounding way.

"I'll go with US Navy Table 6 for the treatment table. Target pressure is 2.8 ATA. We'll pressurize to a depth equivalent to 18 meters. The descent speed is one meter per minute, nice and slow. Please go in while checking the patient's equalization."

"Understood!"

The technician operated the panel.

"Professor Park, can you hear me?"

[Yeah, I can hear you. Very clearly. But my ears are already feeling blocked, damn it.]

Park Se-young's voice came through the speaker.

"Swallow your saliva. And keep the patient pinching their nose and humming. We can't let the eardrums burst."

[Got it. We're doing it.]

"When we arrive, put on the oxygen hood, and we'll do 20 minutes of oxygen inhalation followed by 5-minute air breaks. Three sets total, then we'll start decompression."

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Baek Eun-seo's eyes sparkling as they watched from the side.

That's kind of a lot.

'Ignore it. If I make eye contact, it's obviously going to become a hassle.'

I forced my eyes to stay fixed on the monitor.

Whirr-

With a mechanical hum, the pressure gauge needle slowly began to rise.

Inside, Park Se-young and the patient were now like they were descending into the deep sea.

I leaned back in my chair and let out a long breath.

After performing neonatal resuscitation in the doctor helicopter,

and serving as the de facto control tower of the ER during a disaster,

I was now even taking on the role of temporary head of the hyperbaric oxygen therapy center.

What the hell is this, on my first day after coming down to Geoje?

“It feels like I'm stacking up achievements.”

It feels like, when you clear achievements in a game, titles like [Chamber Master] [The ER Madman] [All-Purpose Fixer] get strung up above my head one after another.

I made eye contact with Professor Park Se-young, who was inside the chamber beyond the glass, propping up her chin with a bored expression.

I quietly turned down the microphone volume.

Sorry, Professor.

But we have to save the patient, don't we?