Chapter 26
Chapter 26
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: TIME IS BRAIN (2)
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My voice was strangely calm.
Maybe all the crazy shit I'd been through over the past few days had toughened my mental game without me even realizing it.
"Hello, ma'am. I'm an emergency medicine doctor—please don't panic. I just need to check a few things real quick. Okay?"
The old lady looked at me with anxious eyes and barely managed a nod.
The other passengers on the bus started whispering and glancing our way.
I pulled my phone from my pocket and turned on the flashlight. No penlight, so this would have to do.
"Ma'am, look at me. Can you open your eyes nice and wide?"
I gently lifted her eyelids and shone the light quickly into both pupils.
They constricted symmetrically on both sides. But her left eye was subtly deviated outward.
Exotropia. An ominous sign of cranial nerve involvement.
"Ma'am, can you squeeze both my hands as hard as you can?"
I placed my hands in hers, one on each side.
Her right hand gripped with solid strength, impressive even accounting for her age.
But the left was different. No power at all. It just slipped away limply. Clear left-sided hemiparesis.
I was certain now.
This was a textbook stroke, no question.
I realized there was no time to waste.
I shot up from my seat and yelled toward the front of the bus, summoning the loudest voice I could muster in my life.
"Driver!! Pull over for a sec!! We've got a stroke patient on board!!"
My desperate shout stunned every passenger on the bus.
The driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror, then immediately swerved the bus into the end lane and stopped.
With a sharp screech of brakes, the bus came to a halt.
With shaking hands, I pulled out my phone and dialed 119.
The tone rang twice before a calm voice answered.
[119 Emergency Dispatch.]
"Yeah, thanks for your hard work. This is a first-year emergency medicine resident."
[Yes, doctor. What's the situation?]
"There's a suspected stroke patient on a bus. Estimated 70s female, conscious and alert but with impaired communication. Onset about 15 minutes ago, estimated. Physical exam shows positive findings for facial paralysis, left hemiparesis, and severe dysarthria. No known comorbidities, but acute ischemic stroke is strongly suspected."
[Got it, stroke. Can you tell me the bus number and route?]
I glanced out the bus window. Familiar scenery.
"Bus 1005, just passed Yeonsan Intersection heading toward the baseball stadium, stopped in the last lane. Bus is halted now."
[Okay, Yeonsan Intersection. Understood. Closest ambulance dispatched. ETA 5 minutes. Doctor, any incoming calls from unknown numbers might be the responding team—please pick up.]
"Thanks."
I hung up and crouched back down beside the old lady.
*Did I do everything I could?*
Called 119, identified myself, relayed the patient's status as accurately as possible.
Yeah, that was the most critical thing I could do on scene.
Now I needed to lay her down comfortably.
With permission from the lady next to us and help from the other passengers, I carefully lowered her flat. I took off my bag to pillow her head and tilted it slightly to keep her airway clear.
That was it.
All I could do right now.
No thrombolytics, no CT scan, no blood pressure control.
I was just a doctor with bare hands, waiting for the ambulance.
Right then, a familiar temptation crept up.
The Gallery. Cross-check?
My diagnosis was crystal clear: facial paralysis, hemiparesis, dysarthria.
This was straight out of page one of the textbook.
Asking the Gallery about something this obvious would just be doubting myself and advertising to those ghost bastards, "I'm too much of an idiot to be sure about even this."
...Nah, skip it.
I shook my head. Time to trust my own judgment.
But...
...No, wait. That mala xiang guo patient masquerading as a myocardial infarction last time.
The memory hit sharp. Classic chest pain. Textbook symptoms.
I'd fallen for the "classic" hook and wasted two hours chasing red herrings.
If I'd suspected even a little and asked the Gallery for differentials back then, maybe I'd have dodged that massive farce.
I suffered big time because I thought it was too classic to bother with the Gallery.
Overconfidence is dangerous. Especially now, with someone's brain cells dying in real time.
A quick cross-check couldn't hurt?
Yeah, this wasn't doubting my skills.
It was a double-check. The safest choice for the patient.
I rationalized it to myself and opened the blue window in my mind.
Title: On a bus, 70s F, suspected stroke. Any differentials I'm missing?
Author: Hell Joseon Slave 1
Sudden left-sided facial palsy, left-sided motor weakness, dysarthria. Called 119 already. Any red flags I'm missing or more I can do on scene? Advice please.
Pretending to check her pulse, I scanned the comments popping up in my vision.
Blood Clot Hell: Good job. That's 100/100 on-scene management. Nothing more you can do. Just keep monitoring vitals till the paramedics arrive.
Anonymous (118.235): Bell's palsy or stroke mimic from hypoglycemia possible, but with sudden hemiparesis like this, stroke is the call.
Anonymous (39.7): Solid work, first-year. But you holding up mentally? Most people shake like crazy first time seeing that outside the hospital.
Reading their comments brought faint relief.
Felt like reconfirmation from the dead experts that my judgment was spot on.
Well, not "felt like"—it was actual reconfirmation.
Anyway.
I kept checking her consciousness, breathing, pulse regularity.
But at the same time, a brutal sense of helplessness washed over me again.
I couldn't do shit.
All my knowledge, memorized drugs, practiced procedures—useless on this bus.
*Am I just... a bystander?*
Self-loathing hit. Right then—
Wooo-woo-woo—
A faint siren wailed in the distance.
It grew louder, closer.
No. Snap out of it.
I shook my head, banishing the defeatist thoughts. I wasn't a bystander.
Because of me, the bus stopped. Because of me, that siren was racing here.
The siren stopped right in front of the bus. The doors opened, and two paramedics in familiar orange jumpsuits rushed in with their emergency kits.
"Where's the patient?"
I stood and pointed.
"Right here."
"Doctor, what happened?"
"Sudden left hemiparesis, facial paralysis, dysarthria. Still alert. Acute ischemic stroke strongly suspected."
While they listened to my briefing, the paramedics wrapped a BP cuff around her arm and clipped a pulse ox on her finger.
Their movements flowed like water.
I monitored her status from the side while one secured an IV line.
The senior-looking paramedic gave me an awkward look.
"Doctor, no family here, and her status could change en route. Could you ride with us to the hospital for handover? Best for the patient to have medical personnel on board."
Ah.
In my head, I heard all my post-shift plans from waiting at the bus stop shatter to pieces.
Hot shower, last beer from the fridge, zoning out to short-form videos till I crash—my simple joys.
And just like that, I ended up riding along unintentionally.
"Sure. I'll do that."
Words came out of my mouth that had nothing to do with my own will.
***
The ambulance back doors slammed shut.
The paramedics moved fast. IV line in her arm, saline connected.
Portable monitor showed her ECG, BP, SpO2 in real time.
I asked toward the driver's seat.
"Which hospital are we heading to?"
"Closest regional stroke center! Cheongjin!"
Ah.
Ah, fuck.
Cheongjin Medical Center.
My workplace. The hell I'd just escaped.
I was voluntarily heading back to that hell.
Resigned, I pulled out my phone.
"Oh, our hospital then—I'll call ahead."
I dialed the familiar number.
Emergency Medical Center.
Riiiing—
"Yes, Emergency Medical Center."
The veteran nurse from our ER picked up—recognizable by voice alone.
"Hey, hi. This is Han Hyun-jae."
"Oh? Huh? Yes, doctor. What's up? Did you forget something...?"
Her tone screamed, "Why's the off-duty guy calling and bothering us?"
"No, not that... I'm riding in an ambulance to the hospital right now."
"...Pardon?"
"Stroke—well, anyway, ended up tagging along by chance. Calling to notify ahead on patient status."
I adjusted the phone and unloaded every detail I'd organized in my head over the last 30 minutes.
"70s female. Estimated onset 30 minutes ago. Consciousness alert transitioning to stupor, GCS around 11. Vitals: BP 160/90, HR 60s, SpO2 99%. Thought it was just hemiparesis at first, but clear left facial palsy, left hemiparesis, motor grade 2-3. Severe dysarthria too."
I caught my breath and added the key point.
"Please alert neurology on call and radiology to prep CT. Ambulance ETA 5 minutes."
Silence on the other end for a bit. Just urgent calls for other nurses and keyboard clacks. Then the nurse's incredulous voice.
[Got it, doctor. Prepping now. But... you're really in an ambulance?]
"...Yes."
I hung up and stared out the window.
The familiar building's silhouette appeared in the distance.
Our hospital's Emergency Medical Center.
Fuck. My off-duty time.