Chapter 107
Chapter 107
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Argh, Flying Doctor! (3)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
“Alright, buckle up. Over both shoulders and tighten it around your waist.”
I fastened the safety belt following Professor Kang’s gesture.
It was on a whole different level from a car seatbelt.
It felt like I was in a race car.
“Wow, this belt is something else.”
As I muttered to myself, a massive roar exploded overhead.
Whiiiiiirrr—
Dududududu!
The tremendous noise pounded my eardrums.
A floating sensation enveloped my body as the helicopter lifted off.
The H-mark on the hospital rooftop shrank away beneath my feet.
‘…This is the sound of riding a helicopter like you see on the news!’
Honestly, it was a bit scary, but also thrilling.
Me, riding in a helicopter.
And wearing a doctor’s coat, no less.
“Here, put on this headset. You won’t hear anything over the noise otherwise.”
“Ah, got it.”
I slipped on the hefty headset Professor Kang handed me.
The ear-shattering roar dulled instantly, and voices came through crystal clear.
The flight nurse sitting in the forward-facing seat across from me was calmly reviewing papers despite the shaking cabin.
Her name tag on her chest read:
[Flight Nurse Anna Yeon]
‘An…na Yeon. Okay, commit that to memory.’
She’d be my comrade in arms in this cramped helicopter, sharing life and death.
Just then, some incomprehensible alien language crackled through the headset.
[~~]
“…What’s that noise, Professor Kang?”
I asked with wide eyes, and Professor Kang chuckled.
“Oh, that’s the pilot communicating. Ignore it. We just focus on our jobs. Let’s see…”
Professor Kang pulled out his phone and opened KakaoTalk.
“You checked the patient’s symptoms and vitals, right?”
“Yes. Chest pain started 30 minutes ago, blood pressure 100/60. Suspected inferior wall infarction with bradycardia.”
“Good. Review these additional details that came in on your phone. The public health doctor sent an EKG photo too. See the ST elevation?”
I burned the shaky screen’s ECG into my eyes.
Beep, beep.
It’s blocked.
“First treatment after landing?”
A sudden oral exam.
I racked my brain.
“First, confirm scene safety, approach the patient, secure airway, establish lines…?”
“Exactly. Aspirin’s already given, so that’s covered. If pain’s bad, consider nitroglycerin or morphine. Above all, get monitoring on solid before loading onto the helicopter. Once airborne, it’s too loud for a stethoscope. You have to watch vitals with your eyes only.”
With that, the helicopter picked up speed southward.
The view out the window shifted from a forest of buildings to shades of green.
A sudden curiosity struck me.
“But Professor Kang.”
“Yeah.”
“Aren’t you trauma surgery? This is a cardiac emergency—can you really go?”
Usually, internal medicine emergencies like this fall under emergency medicine or cardiology.
A trauma surgeon who cracks open bellies and fixes bones heading out for a myocardial infarction?
Professor Kang shrugged.
“What can you do about the doctor helicopter team setup? Short on manpower, patients keep coming. When it’s my on-call shift and a heart case rolls in, I go.”
He flashed a grin.
“Plus, I know emergency medicine pretty well.”
“Really?”
“Back in the day, when emergency medicine was just starting out, surgeons like me spent a lot of time in the ER. We were basically emergency docs. Seen it all—intubations? Lines? Bet I’m better at it than you.”
Professor Kang gazed off with a wistful look, lost in old memories.
Oh no, I poked the bear.
I hurriedly changed the subject.
“Uh, let’s keep listening to the patient briefing…”
“Yeah, right. Ahem.”
Right on cue, Anna Yeon spoke up over the intercom.
[Professor, I spoke with the public health clinic again. Patient’s cold sweats are worse, and there’s vomiting now. They heard the chopper and are moving the ambulance to the handoff point.]
“Okay, got it. Six minutes to arrival!”
I peered out the window.
The sparkling South Sea glittered below.
Islands dotted the landscape.
One of them was our destination.
Thududududududu—
As the ground neared, the rotor noise sharpened.
Dust whipped up.
‘Ugh, so loud.’
The moment the helicopter touched down, I yanked off my headset and bolted out the door.
An ambulance, a public health doctor in a white coat, and EMTs were already waiting on the ground.
The public health doctor’s face was ashen.
He’d clearly been fretting over the patient dying on his watch.
“You’re here!”
His shout was barely audible over the rotor wash.
Professor Kang Hyun-jun strode to the patient’s side with practiced ease and bellowed.
“Briefing, please!”
“Yes! 59-year-old male, chest pain for about one hour! Initial EKG showed ST elevation in II, III, aVF. Couldn’t give nitroglycerin—BP at 90. Only chewed aspirin 300mg!”
“Pain level?”
“Still complaining! Cold sweats ongoing!”
I pressed my stethoscope to the patient’s chest.
Professor Kang made the call.
“Okay! No time to waste. Load him up now! We’ll hook up monitoring in flight!”
“Then we’re off! Thanks for your work!”
We hoisted the stretcher with the patient.
The public health doctor and EMTs sighed in relief as they saw us off.
“Yes! We’re counting on you!”
Clunk!
The stretcher locked into the helicopter’s fixture with a dull thud.
Me, Professor Kang, and Anna Yeon crammed into the tight cabin.
“Lift off!”
The helicopter rose into the air again.
In the cramped space, we bumped elbows as we plastered lines all over the patient’s body.
“Monitor’s up! BP 90/60, HR 55, SpO2 94%…”
Anna Yeon called out.
“Secure another line. Full fluids just in case. Morphine 2mg for pain control.”
I grabbed the patient’s arm and found a vein with practiced ease.
IVs in a shaking helicopter were ten times harder than on solid ground.
But two years of residency hadn’t been for nothing.
Nailed it on the first try.
Maybe I’m finally shaking off these butterfingers.
“Line secured.”
“Good. Keep it steady like this. Patient, Busan’s 20 minutes away—hang in there.”
Professor Kang patted the patient’s shoulder.
The patient nodded despite sweating like it was pouring rain.
That’s when it happened.
“Ugh…!”
The patient’s body suddenly went rigid like a plank.
His eyes rolled back white.
“Huh? Patient!”
Before I could shout, the monitor screamed.
Beeeeep—
The steady ECG waveform twisted into a messy tangle in an instant.
Heart stopped.
“V-fib!”
Professor Kang barked reflexively.
“Shock him! Pads on?”
The cramped helicopter turned into chaos.
I lurched to my feet.
My head nearly grazed the ceiling.
“200 joules! Charge!”
“Clear! Shock!”
Thwack!
The patient’s torso jolted upward.
We held our breath, eyes on the monitor.
The erratic waveform paused, then started again.
“Rhythm’s back…”
“It’s back… phew…”
I let out a sigh of relief and reached for his pulse.
But before my hand touched his neck.
Beeeep—
“It’s back up! V-fib again!”
The monitor’s waveform was thrashing wildly once more.
Arrest again.
“Compress immediately! Epi 1mg!”
Professor Kang wedged into the tight space and leaned his weight onto the patient’s chest.
Press, press, press, press.
“Epi’s in!”
“Two minutes! Check rhythm!”
Professor Kang pulled back.
The waveform normalized again.
“Got it?”
But that relief lasted only ten seconds.
Beeeeep—
“Damn it! Again!”
Third V-fib.
“Mix amiodarone 300mg and push it! Ready another shock! Charge!”
“Shock!”
Thwack!
The patient’s body arched.
But this time, no return.
The monitor’s waveform kept dancing in jagged peaks.
“Compress again!”
I started chest compressions.
The chopper’s vibrations tangled with my rhythm, my back screaming in pain.
“Prep lidocaine too! Epi every three minutes! Shock as soon as it’s ready!”
We moved like maniacs.
Me, the nurse, Professor Kang—all mechanical, following ACLS protocol.
Drugs went in, electricity flew, chest bones cracked under pressure.
But the patient’s heart mocked us—brief returns, then collapse into horror.
Fourth shock.
The patient was dying.
‘Why won’t it stick?’
I felt the patient’s ribs creak under my palms.
Cold sweat stung my eyes.
Then, something flashed in the depths of my mind.
Long ago—no, just months back.
A tale from the cardiology ghost.
‘…Ah?’
Wait… ventricular arrhythmias three or more times in 24 hours.
‘Electrical Storm.’
My eyes snapped wide.
I kept compressing and yelled up.
“Professor! It’s an Electrical Storm! Drugs won’t hold it!”
Professor Kang looked at me, face slick with sweat.
“So what? That’s why we keep shocking and drugging!”
“We have to block it! Cut the sympathetic nerves to stop it!”
“What?”
I spat out the term I’d seen in the gallery.
“We need SGB! Inject anesthetic into the left neck to sever the sympathetics—only way to save him!”
Professor Kang’s eyes widened.
The helicopter jolted slightly in the wind.
“Stab the neck in this shaky chopper? Hit the carotid and—”
In this tight, bucking space, precisely needle a deep neck ganglion?
Insane.
Fail, and the patient dies.
But the monitor screamed V-fib.
At this rate, his brain melts before we hit the hospital.
No choice.
“No need to let him die.”
“What?”
Impossible for me.
But that guy.
The madman who knows every path to the heart.
I scribbled a frantic memo for the ghost about to possess me.
‘Possession. Cardiology Ghost.’
The world flipped once more.