Time Is Brain (3)

The moment the ambulance's rear doors opened, a familiar air welcomed me. The scent of disinfectant, blood, and every kind of human suffering mixed together.

I returned to the ER in a hoodie and track pants, dragging the stretcher along.

I looked like a civilian who'd clocked out, no, like a jobless bum out for a stroll around the neighborhood.

But the stretcher cart I was dragging in, and the elderly woman fighting for her life on it, only proved that this place was no joke.

“Dr. Han Hyeon-jae?”

“Wait, didn't he clock out already?”

“What's with the track pants...?”

The colleagues and nurses at the station whispered after seeing me.

Ignoring their stares, I handed the patient over to third-year Choi Su-min, who had already been notified and rushed out.

It had been only about thirty minutes since I'd clocked out.

Fuck.

“Female patient in her seventies. Found on a bus, onset (*Onset, symptom onset) was forty minutes ago. Clear left-sided hemiparesis and dysarthria, and her vitals are stable for now…”

I conveyed the situation as quickly and concisely as possible. Only after handing her over to Choi Su-min, the ER on-call physician, could I finally breathe easy.

Choi Su-min looked at me with a dumbfounded expression, but soon turned back to the patient.

“Got it. Good work, Hyeon-jae. You really went through a lot, so you should head in now.”

“Yes.”

I answered briefly and stepped back.

In no time, the patient was loaded up with monitors and IV lines and sent straight to CT to assess her brain.

Watching her from afar, I quietly turned toward the ER entrance.

Now my role was truly over.

All I had to do was pull my hood low, make myself as invisible as possible, and pass through that automatic door.

Freedom, my bed, my fucking rest—they were just beyond that door.

Just as I was about to leave, that door slid open.

And then I locked eyes with the person standing there.

Chief Park Woong.

The head of emergency medicine and a living disaster.

Why is he here now?

“Oh! R-right, Dr. Han, was it?”

The chief didn't recognize me at first in my off-duty clothes, then immediately widened his eyes.

I was screwed. Caught red-handed.

“Good evening, Chief.”

“Didn't you clock out already? What brings you here dressed so casually?”

The chief was puzzled by my outfit, but then, as if something had come to mind, he gave my shoulder a hearty thwack with a booming voice.

“I was just hearing about it the other day—our Dr. Han did something incredible! You picked up an MI from a sore throat?”

A myocardial infarction patient who came in with a sore throat. Apparently that story had already reached the chief's ears.

“Haha! That's so atypical it's practically a mutant-level case! Wow, and a first-year caught it? That's impressive!”

A mutant is going a bit too far, Chief... It wasn't actually that rare a case.

The chief's praise poured down like a waterfall.

But not a single word reached my ears. I just kept my head down and stared blankly at the floor.

…

My head was filled with only one thought.

Ah, fuck.

Clocking out.

Chief Park's cheerful solo performance went on for another five minutes.

Once he found out I'd even brought a stroke patient in from the bus today, the chief started praising me as if I were the second coming of Jesus in emergency medicine.

I mean, isn't this the kind of thing a first-year should be able to do without any problem?

I took all that praise with a soulless 'Thank you' and a mechanical ninety-degree bow.

At last, another professor called the chief away, and I could be released from hell.

“Then I'll head in.”

I fled the ER like I was running away.

***

Finally. Finally, it's over.

Finally... I'm really off work now...

I trudged out onto the main road.

The bus stop was visible in the distance. But I couldn't bring myself to head that way.

Just thinking about what I went through inside that square tin can today gave me goosebumps.

This time, I'll get a taxi instead of taking the bus...

After going through that bullshit and then getting on a bus again, you're not human—you're just an amoeba with no learning ability.

For the first time in my life, I decided to splurge on the way home.

I had more than earned it today.

***

I took a taxi.

The taxi driver glanced at my haggard face in the rearview mirror once and drove off without a word.

As I sank into the soft leather seat, my tension finally eased and my whole body felt heavy.

Staring into space, I opened the blue window in my head. It was time to give my final report to those ghost bastards—the only channel I had to reach them, and by now I even felt a strange camaraderie with them.

Title: Bus Stroke Patient Review.

Author: HellJoseonSlave1

Bottom line: I called 119 and sent her to our hospital ER. By now they'll probably have her in CT, dissolving the clot or draining the blood or whatever. My part ends here. I'm fucking exhausted. What a fucking waste of taxi fare.

HematomaIsHell : Well done, ㅇㅇ. If you handled that much out there, that's a 100-point response. If you hadn't been there, that old lady would've just been found at the bus's last stop.

NeurologyGhost : If you'd hesitated just ten minutes, that patient would've been stuck in a bed for the rest of her life. You did something very important. It'll be a moment you remember for the rest of your life.

Before I knew it, I was faintly smiling.

Yeah, maybe I did pretty well today.

Savoring the satisfaction, I closed the gallery window and tried to get some sleep.

The taxi's gentle sway felt like a lullaby.

I'm tired.

I really want to forget everything and just fall asleep.

Just as my eyelids grew as heavy as lead and my consciousness began to drift away...

Ping-

A new gallery notification appeared before my eyes, completely against my will.

BackInMyDay : Let's go!

Fuck, you startled me.

BackInMyDay : Today's hands-on experience was excellent! If you want to keep handling emergencies outside the hospital perfectly in the future, what do you need to do?! Study, of course! Starting now, we begin the 'Street Emergency Medicine Survival' study group! First topic: airway management!

My eyes flew open.

What?

A study group? Now? Here?

HippocratesDescendant : Oho, what a splendid idea! O living one! If a patient suddenly stops breathing before your very eyes, what can you do!

ScalpelGod : Head-tilt/Chin-lift

(* head tilt/chin lift.)

and Jaw-thrust

(* jaw thrust.)

Explain the difference between them first. If you do a Chin-lift on a trauma patient, you could end up causing a cervical spine injury and quadriplegia!

All sorts of ghosts started chattering excitedly.

Their gentle demeanor from just a moment ago was gone, and they'd turned back into crazy instructors desperate to devour me.

I stared at the taxi's ceiling with empty eyes.

…Ah.

Please save me.

BackInMyDay : If you found a patient suddenly seizing on the street? You wouldn't do the insane thing of shoving something in their mouth, right? Securing the airway and clearing away dangerous objects nearby comes first!

I didn't even have the energy to respond.

***

Here we are.

Before I knew it, the taxi had stopped in front of my familiar officetel building.

I got out of the taxi, staggering and looking like a mess.

Drive safely, sir.

The taxi disappeared into the night without a shred of hesitation.

I stood alone on the empty road.

Phew. Finally, it's over. For real.

Once I open that door and go in, my own space, my own bed will be waiting for me.

I squeezed out the last of my strength and walked toward the officetel entrance.

I took the elevator and pressed the familiar floor button.

With a ding, the elevator doors opened, and I stood before my apartment door.

Before punching in the password, I habitually slipped my hand into my pocket.

My little companion that blocks out all the noise in the world and lets me have a little time to myself.

…Ah, wait. Fuck.

The hard, smooth feel of the plastic case that should have been at my fingertips wasn't there.

I checked the other pocket too. Nothing. Not in the hoodie pocket, not in the back pocket of my pants.

At that moment, the scene from the taxi's back seat flashed through my head.

My wireless earphones. I left them behind.

I didn't even feel like calling or chasing after them.

Nothing's going right, fuck.

What good is saving a stroke patient?

The real me is just a dumbass who can't even keep track of his own earphones on the way home.

I gave up on everything.

Then I ignored the ghosts still noisily chattering away and unlocked the front door.

ScalpelGod : So when bleeding is severe, do you compress the pressure point first, or put on the tourniquet first!

ㄴ ㅇㅇ(39.7) It depends on the situation, you idiot. If it's arterial bleeding, obviously it's a tourniquet.

Shut up.

Please, just shut up.

I slipped off my shoes and stepped into the dark apartment.

I didn't even feel like turning on the lights or changing clothes.

I had only one goal.

Bed.

I staggered toward the bedroom. The ghosts had now started debating first aid for burn patients.

ㅇㅇ (118.235) : The basic rule is to cool it under running cold water for at least ten minutes!

BackInMyDay : No ice water! It actually makes the tissue damage worse!

I let all that bullshit wash by like background noise and threw myself toward my one and only refuge.