Chapter 21
Chapter 21
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Yet Another Peaceful ER Shift (2)
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30 minutes later.
After leaving behind an unprecedented diagnosis, Seaweed Man was led away to the endoscopy room by a gastroenterology fellow.
I stared at the now-empty Section A, replaying that one line Yoo Sung-hoon had tossed out just moments ago.
‘A sight you’ll never see again in your lifetime.’
Was that really true?
In this hellhole of an ER, every imaginable kind of bullshit happened every single day.
Guys who’d popped a whole bottle of Viagra to show off their stamina and got wheeled in. Drunks who chugged industrial alcohol and showed up blind. Seaweed Gut was just one more name on that legendary list. Who’d be the next lunatic to show up and test the limits of my imagination?
I mulled it over as I headed back to the station, about to sink into my chair—right then.
“Uwaaaaaah!”
Some guy came screaming into the ER.
What the hell, a terrorist with a bomb?
No, less “running in” and more “tumbling in.” Ignoring the nurse yelling at him to go through triage at the desk, he clutched his stomach and crawled across the floor.
“Sa… save me!”
Today’s second villain had taken the stage.
“Sir, calm down first… where does it hurt?”
“My… my stomach.”
The man barely managed the words through the pain.
His face glistened with cold sweat, lips deathly pale. Didn’t look like malingering—definitely seemed like he was in real agony.
I crouched beside him and asked again.
“Your stomach? How’s it hurting…”
“My anus… and my stomach… it hurts…”
Anus? I furrowed my brow.
“The whole thing feels like it’s on fire! Like a knife stabbing! Uwaaaah!”
Acute appendicitis? Diverticulitis? Or maybe a bowel perforation? A parade of horrifying differentials flashed through my mind.
“…Did you eat something?”
Even through the pain, he answered with crystal-clear pronunciation.
“…Nuclear Fire Chicken with extra capsaicin.”
“...”
I couldn’t help but slap my forehead.
Nuclear Fire Chicken?
With extra capsaicin?
Why the hell would anyone pay good money to commit chemical terrorism on their own body?
My inner demon roared.
“Sir, let’s get you on a bed for now. Must hurt like hell.”
I gestured to the nurses around me.
“Move him to a bed, get an IV line in ASAP! Mix one liter normal saline with Tagamet and Maxolon, hang it fast, and we’ll give him some Gaviscon gel right away too!”
The nurses sprang into action, smoothly transferring him to a bed.
I stood by the bedside, speaking to the man still clutching his gut and groaning.
“Sir, the shots and meds should help soon. And just in case, here’s where the bathroom is.”
I pointed down the hall.
“End of the corridor, left side. Good to know ahead of time. You’ll probably get the signal soon.”
I rolled up my sleeve, glancing at my arm.
“I’ll get the IV.”
Nurses looked busy—least I could do was handle the line.
Confident as ever, I wrapped the tourniquet, swabbed with alcohol cotton. Great veins. Thick, bouncy—looked like a breeze. Could do this blindfolded.
Catheter in hand, deep breath.
Plunge.
…Huh?
Felt the pop of entering the vein, but no flashback.
Miss.
The guy flinched.
“Sorry, sir. Vein rolled….”
Lame excuse as I readjusted the angle.
This time for sure.
Plunge.
…Ow.
Went too deep—right through the vein. Pulled out, and a massive bruise ballooned up instantly.
Second miss.
I quietly set the catheter down. The veteran nurse watching me flashed a “knew it” look.
‘Yeah. Just let the nurse handle it!’
Acting all nonchalant and magnanimous, I handed it over. She took the tourniquet and catheter from my hand, nailed it on the first try without a hitch.
I played it cool on the outside, bawling inside.
Hands, my ass. Hands.
The clock read 6:50 PM.
10 minutes. Just hold out 10 more minutes, and this hellish shift was over.
I slumped in the station chair, staring blankly at the ticking clock.
Please, God, let nothing else happen.
But the ER gods were always cruel.
“Um… excuse me!”
A guy shuffled in from the entrance, hand clamped over his mouth, posture all awkward.
Oh, why now, of all times?
I swallowed tears and approached.
“What brings you in?”
The man mumbled reluctantly.
“My tooth’s… wobbling.”
“Your tooth’s wobbling?”
I repeated, scanning his face.
Purple bruise on his left cheek and jaw, plus some scrapes.
“What happened?”
“Tripped on the stairs, fell face-first.”
“Did you hit your head? Lose consciousness even for a second?”
“No, doesn’t think so. Just my tooth… tooth feels weird.”
I ruled out traumatic brain injury first. Checked pupils, quick neuro exam.
No clear deficits, but trauma patients—you always assume the worst.
“Sir, we’ll do a head CT to rule out any brain issues.”
Sent him off to radiology, caught my breath. CT would sort the head stuff. But this “wobbling tooth”—what the hell do I do with that?
I hunkered down in the chair corner, habitually pulling up the gallery window.
Title: [Urgent] Trauma patient, tooth subluxation. (*Tooth not fully out) What do we do in ER?
Poster: HellJoseonSlave1
30s/M, fall with tooth subluxation. Sent for CT to rule out brain injury. Tooth’s shaking like crazy—what do we do in ER? Know I gotta call dental, but anything I can do first?
Anonymous (118.235): We’re doctors, not dentists.
LatteIsHorse: Pfft. If you wanted to know that, shoulda gone to dental school. We handle tongue cancer, not teeth.
God’s Scalpel: Teeth ain’t my turf.
PlasticSurgeryGhost: No dentist from your wisdom teeth extraction? Ask them, dude. They’re the pros.
These clowns were useless as ever—first time for nothing.
I let out a hollow laugh and closed the gallery.
Moments later, CT results: normal, thank God.
“Sir, head’s fine. Now let’s check that tooth. Open up.”
Wasn’t dental-trained anyway. Just basics. Bare basics.
Dental trauma 101: fully avulsed tooth? Preserve in solution, rush to dental. But this was loose, not out—subluxation.
Shone the penlight into his mouth. Upper incisor visibly displaced, blood oozing from the gum.
“Let’s see how loose it is.”
Latex-gloved finger gently nudged the incisor.
Just checking direction and degree of movement.
“Hold on, how loo—huh?”
That instant.
A tiny, sickening *crack* at my fingertip.
And there in my hand sat the incisor, root intact—perfectly pristine—fresh from his mouth.
…Fuck.
I’d yanked the patient’s tooth.
Silence fell.
Patient and I just stared, eyes wide. Blood trickled from his mouth.
I alternated looks between the tooth in my hand and his now-toothless gum. Brain rejecting reality.
What did I do? I just touched it.
“Doc… doctor… my tooth…”
His voice shook. That snapped my sanity.
“Wha—what?! Nurse! Call dental on-call! Anyone, now!”
I practically screamed.
Panic swirled: random facts colliding.
“And this! How do you save a tooth? Milk? Yeah, milk! Quick, hit the convenience store for whole milk! Not skim!”
Right then.
*Bonk.*
Someone lightly smacked the back of my head.
“Ugh, you idiot.”
Turned: fourth-year Lee Min-jae, looking down with pity. He’d seen the whole fiasco.
“What’re you doing? Why drag the poor nurse into it.”
Ignoring my freakout, he smoothly plucked the tooth from my trembling hand.
“Milk? We’ve got saline everywhere. Sterile normal saline.”
He directed another nurse like a pro.
“Nurse, 500cc saline and an empty container, please. For the tooth. And Han Hyun-jae.”
“Y-yes!”
“Find dental’s number and call now. Full avulsion. Ask ’em to come ASAP, polite-like.”
Sunbae’s cleanup restored peace to the ER.
About 15 minutes later.
Auto-doors slid open: white coat guy entered.
“Dental on-call here. Where’s the patient?”
“Oh, hi, dental doc!”
I sneaked a peek at his badge.
Coat read: ‘Oral & Maxillofacial Surgery, Jin Myeong-cheol.’
Ora… Oral & Maxillo-what?
Oral and Maxillofacial Surgery.
Long name. What even is that? Not just dentistry? Surgery for mouth, jaw, face? Dentists do face ops?
Huh. Mysterious world over there too.
Six years med school, internship, residency—and I knew squat about dentistry.
Oblivious to my thoughts, the dental doc went straight to the patient, took the container with the tooth I’d “extracted”—er, that fell out—and examined it closely.
“Hm, periodontal ligament still viable. Good reimplantation odds. Don’t worry.”
Reassured the patient, deftly checked his mouth.
“Some alveolar bone fracture, but minor. We’ll head up to our dept for quick fix.”
And so Tooth Man marched off with the dentist to the dental clinic.
Only after their silhouettes vanished in the elevator did I exhale deeply.
Strength drained from my body. Adrenaline crash filled the void with brutal reality.
What the hell had I done today? Bragged about saving a MI patient, got humbled by Seaweed Man, botched Nuclear Chicken’s IV and embarrassed myself, then yanked a tooth right before clock-out.
This a doctor? Nah, walking disaster.
I staggered to the sofa, flopped down. Mindlessly opened my sole sanctuary: the gallery.
Had to vent this somewhere.
Title: Yo, I just pulled a patient’s tooth.
Poster: HellJoseonSlave1
10 mins to clock-out, fall patient comes in, touch the wobbly tooth and it just pops out. Didn’t pull it. Fell out on its own. Anyway, called dental, sent him off.
Posted—and as expected, the ghosts erupted in laughter.
Anonymous (210.94): LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
ORGhost3: You maniac LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO what kinda bullshit is this LMAOOOOOOOOOO
RespGhost: LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOO now you’re doing extractions too
I stared blankly at the mockery.
Yeah, laugh it up, you bastards.
You’d never lose teeth anyway. Probably all rotted out already.
After ages of ridicule, someone kicked off a serious debate.
HippocratesHeir: So what’s the tooth’s structure that it comes out so easy? Different from bone?
One question, gallery mood flipped.
BoneFreak88: Close to my field, so I’ll explain. Teeth are kinda bone. Calcium, phosphorus. But different—nerves and vessels inside, super-hard enamel outside.
LatteIsHorse: So how’s it stuck in the gum? Like glued?
BoneFreak88: Periodontal ligament connects to alveolar bone. Tough against normal impacts.
Anonymous (118.235): But HellSlave yanked it. Dude must be stupid strong?
God’s Scalpel: Not strong, stupid. Probably periodontal fibers mostly torn from trauma already. Touched it thoughtlessly, out it came.
Debate veered deeper, dumber.
InfectiousDiseaseGhost: Tooth got infected? Not caries—like pus from bacteria via blood.
HematomaHell: Possible? Pulpitis or whatever. Then what abx? Penicillin work?
NephroFlatline: Rotten teeth bad for kidneys too. Bugs travel blood, inflame glomeruli.
Finally, their idiotic conclusion.
HippocratesHeir: Thus, teeth are bone-shaped endocrine organs, infection nests, systemic disease triggers—highly dangerous organs! Preemptive full extraction extends human lifespan!
…Nope.
I quietly closed the gallery.
Just… clock out.