Chapter 169
“I have one question about the current setup.”
Baek Eun-seo's eyes sparkled as she pointed at the chart on the monitor.
“Why exactly are we setting the initial pressure at 2.8 and breaking the breathing intervals into three 20-minute sets? It's a big difference from the 2.0 protocol for wound treatment.”
“Huh? Let me just look at the settings and answer you.”
I was bluffing.
Gallery question
Quick scan.
Copy the answer.
“Well, you see. In the acute stage, when the bubbles are pressing on the nerves like this, you need a higher pressure to physically shrink the bubbles, so you have to bombard it with a high concentration of oxygen. But if you keep it going nonstop, oxygen toxicity can hit the brain.”
“So it's to prevent oxygen toxicity.”
Baek Eun-seo nodded and jotted it down.
“Then why do we deliberately keep the dwell time long at 60 fsw?”
Oh, I know this one.
“If any less-dissolved nitrogen is left over, it'll expand again during decompression. We're making sure it dissolves completely and gets eliminated.”
I frantically cheated off the gallery and barely managed to fend off Baek Eun-seo's scholarly curiosity.
“I should get going to my night shift now. It's almost 7 o'clock.”
“Sure, sure! Go on, hurry! You'll be late!”
I waved her off.
Baek Eun-seo glanced back regretfully, then bowed and left the treatment room.
And so, only I and the person actually in charge of operating the machine remained in the hyperbaric oxygen treatment room.
Ah, of course, that excluded the professor and the patient trapped inside the chamber.
As the machine noise died down, the pressure gauge needle settled at the target.
“We've reached 2.8 pressure. Ending pressurization now.”
18 meters deep.
Hissss.
Voices came through the speaker from inside.
[D-Doctor....]
It was the patient's voice.
[My legs are hot... I can... I can feel... I...]
The patient mumbled, trying to speak.
“Please don't talk. If you open your mouth, the oxygen mask will gape open and the treatment will be less effective.”
Then Park Se-young approached the patient, checked the legs, and started asking questions.
“Can you feel anything? If you can, just nod.”
Beyond the glass, the patient slowly moved his head.
Nod, nod.
'Ha....'
It worked.
As the bubbles shrank, blood started flowing again to the compressed nerves.
Feeling heat in the legs is a typical response when blood flow resumes.
'At least the sensation has come back.'
But we can't stop here.
If we abruptly end treatment and decompress just because sensation returned, the shrunken bubbles will expand again and cause a rebound.
And then it'll be real permanent paralysis.
We have to wait it out until they're completely dissolved and gone for good.
Then a sulky voice came through the speaker.
[Jae-hyun.]
It was Park Se-young.
“Yes? Professor. Is something bothering you?”
[How much time is left?]
She was staring at me through the glass with a sullen expression.
“We haven't even started yet. We just reached the target.”
[I mean the total time. When do we get out?]
I checked the schedule on the monitor.
“Hmm... if there's no extension, you'll be able to come out in about four hours and twenty minutes.”
[You crazy bastard.]
“Um... you probably shouldn't sleep. We need to keep an eye out for oxygen toxicity symptoms.”
If oxygen toxicity sets in, seizures can occur, so the medical staff has to stay awake the whole time.
“Hang in there, Professor.”
[Goddammit.]
Park Se-young raised her fist and thumped the glass.
I couldn't hear the sound, but I could tell exactly what swear words she was using.
I picked up the microphone.
“Professor, I actually have the director's backing. Once we get back to the main hospital, I'll put in a good word for you. I'll say Professor Park Se-young showed great self-sacrifice in Geoje and elevated the hospital's prestige.”
[Cut the crap. Haa...]
Park Se-young sighed.
...
The treatment went so smoothly it was boring.
20 minutes of oxygen.
5-minute air break!
An endless repetition of that pattern.
“Yawn.”
I was starting to get sleepy too.
Leaning back in the operator's chair and staring blankly at the monitor, I suddenly felt uneasy.
'Did I miss anything?'
All the ghosts had told me earlier was the pressure and the time.
But hyperbaric oxygen therapy couldn't be that simple, could it?
Maybe there were some detailed tips too?
I quietly opened the gallery window.
[Dead Medical Gallery]
====================
Anything else to watch out for with the chamber?
Author: HellJoseonSlave1
I set up the table and everything at the start and turned it on.
It's running fine, but is there anything else I need to do? Anything I should check in the middle?
====================
[Comments]
God of the Scalpel: Open the lid and see if the rice is done.
ㄴ HellJoseonSlave1: I swear to God, I'll kill you.
ㄴ God of the Scalpel: sry sry, just kidding, I don't actually know this lol you're not seriously gonna do that, right? Right?
Back-in-My-Day Latte: Air conditioner control?
ㄴ HellJoseonSlave1: Not joking.
ㄴ Anonymous(39.7): That's actually important. Not a joke.
Back-in-My-Day Latte: If you're breathing inside a sealed chamber, carbon dioxide will build up. If the concentration gets too high, oxygen toxicity comes faster, so you need to vent the chamber periodically.
“Ah!”
Oh, so that's something I need to do.
It's a sealed space.
Then removing carbon dioxide is important too.
'That was a close call.'
ㄴ Back-in-My-Day Latte: But the EMT, nurse, or technician actually operating the machine will handle that, so don't worry.
ㄴ Anonymous(121.181): Modern machines have automatic sensors, so if CO2 rises, the valve opens by itself.
ㄴ Back-in-My-Day Latte: If you tell them to ventilate it, they might get offended like, “What, this bastard doesn't trust us?” Just staying out of the way helps.
“Damn it.”
I quietly let go of the microphone I was about to grab.
Looking over there, I could already see them checking the monitor's CO2 level and expertly operating the exhaust valve.
'Yeah. The expert will handle it.'
In the end, there was nothing for me to do.
Just sitting there, looking important, glaring at the monitor, and occasionally checking the gallery.
Helpless.
But comfortable.
'Should I subspecialize in hyperbaric therapy later?'
...
***
Drurururuk.
The chamber door opened, and the stretcher wheels rolling across the floor broke the hallway's silence.
A five-hour marathon.
The US Navy Table 6 protocol was finally over.
“Ughhh...”
Professor Park Se-young, walking beside the bed, looked absolutely miserable.
Where had that fresh, energetic, rejuvenated professor from before disappeared to?
Her bangs were plastered down with sweat, and the bags under her eyes were sunken deep.
In contrast, the patient lying in the bed looked perfectly refreshed.
“Doctor! I can move my legs! My toes are wiggling! Thank you!”
The patient kicked off the blanket and did a little toe dance.
'Looks like the bubbles are completely gone.'
It was a perfect treatment.
“Congratulations. I'm really glad.”
I offered a hollow congratulations while gauging Park Se-young's mood.
Park Se-young's eyes were screaming that she wanted to go home and couldn't care less about the patient.
And so, we dragged the patient back to the first-floor ER like zombies.
Bzzzz-
As the automatic doors opened, Professor Kim Su-rim, who was on night duty at the station, greeted us.
“You're back? How's the patient?”
“He's fine now. He can even walk out on his own.”
“That's a relief. Good work.”
Professor Kim Su-rim flinched when she saw Park Se-young.
“Professor Park, why does your face look like that... Did you fight inside?”
“Don't... talk to me...”
Park Se-young waved a hand and collapsed into a chair.
...
“Are you on neurology call? Hey, this is EM Kim Su-rim. Are you sleeping? Sorry, sorry. The thing is, that DCS patient whose chart you sent earlier—we ran him through the chamber and his symptoms cleared up completely.”
Kim Su-rim's voice turned very gentle.
That's the tone of someone begging for admission.
“So here's the thing. I'm a little worried that if we just discharge him, he might rebound. Could you admit him under your department and observe him for a day or two?”
I could almost hear the resident on the other end of the line groan.
But how could they refuse when a professor was asking directly?
“Yeah. Just two days. Nothing much. You just need to keep an eye on the vitals. Oh, thanks then. Yeah~ sure~”
Click.
Kim Su-rim set down the receiver with a winner's smile.
“I put him in under neurology. Now stop worrying about it and go home. Professor Park, you've had a rough day too, so head out.”
Is she an angel?
She seemed strict on the outside, but her work was incredibly efficient.
She handled the admission in one swift move for the resident and professor who couldn't get off work.
“Thank you, Professor!”
I hurried out of the ER.
...
As I stepped out of the hospital's front entrance, cold night air blew over me.
Damn, it's cold.
“Haa...”
Park Se-young let out a deep sigh and looked up at the sky. I stood beside her, carefully gauging her mood.
“Jae-hyun.”
“Yes, Professor.”
“What time is it?”
“It's 12:30. Just past midnight.”
“I see.”
Park Se-young gave a dry laugh.
“Why did I only get out of the hospital at midnight the next day, long after quitting time? And covered in sweat, no less?”
Park Se-young slowly turned her head to look at me.
“Well? Uh... because you're so devoted to your patients?”
“Shut up.”
Park Se-young lightly kicked my shin.
“You should know better than anyone! You were the one who sweet-talked me into it! The Geoje Schweitzer? Volunteering? Trying to impress the director?”
“Aaaagh! Please spare me, Professor! Besides, thanks to you, we saved that patient's life! He's going to walk out on both legs just fine—what greater reward could there be!”
I put on a dramatic act of pain and prepared to run.
“Yeah. You're not wrong, though.”
Park Se-young shook her head as fatigue seemed to hit her all at once.
“Enough. Just go to sleep.”
“Take care getting home! See you next time!”
“Yeah, you worked hard too.”
Park Se-young trudged off toward the dormitory.
I'm sorry, Professor.
...
After parting ways with Park Se-young, I headed toward the dormitory too.
But when I took out my phone, I saw a missed call notification.
[Missed call (4)]
[Caller: Park Chang-hoon, Cheongjin Medical School Class 31]
“What the heck.”
What was he calling about at this hour?
Park Chang-hoon.
A college classmate and drinking buddy.
We had slogged through internship together in Busan, but he had run off to another hospital for residency.
“Why did he call? Four times?”
Was it urgent?
Curious, I pressed the call button.
Brrrrring.
[Hello!]
Park Chang-hoon answered before the ring had even finished once.
“Oh, hello. Why'd you call?”
[Do you happen to know a Professor Park Gwang-seok at your hospital branch?]
“Park Gwang-seok?”
I searched my memory.
The profile I'd seen earlier during the overall orientation.
The name at the very top of the emergency medical center org chart.
[Center Director / Associate Professor Park Gwang-seok]
“Hmm, he must be the department chief at our hospital, unless it's just someone with the same name.”
[Haa... tsk.]
Park Chang-hoon sighed.
“From what I can tell, he came over after working as an associate professor at your hospital?”
[...You went down there? Geoje? From the way you said 'our hospital,' I guess you're in Geoje right now?]
“Yeah, I came down. So what, get to the point.”
[Remember what I told you over drinks before? That our hospital has this absolutely insane old bastard...]
I remembered.
The legendary figure Park Chang-hoon would curse out whenever he drank.
The guy he said got to be a professor through politics despite having no real talent.
[That old bastard is him.]
“Huh?”
[You okay? That guy's a resident killer. He especially hates anyone who talks back.]
“Uh...”
I thought I'd landed a cushy gig.
Turns out it was a cushy gig with a bear trap in it.
'Am I about to get marked?'