Chapter 33
Chapter 33
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Securing the Airway is Important (6)
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I slumped into a chair, chewing over the title I'd just received on the gallery.
"Doctor who saved the patient but nearly killed them—hands are trash, but great at securing airways."
A curse slipped out naturally, but the undeniable fact made me feel even more pathetic.
I rose from my seat with a rotten expression.
Work had to be done, after all. Until this hellish shift—and its paycheck chains—finally ended.
I stripped off the blood-soaked gown and changed into a fresh one.
My footsteps dragged like lead weights down the hallway toward the station.
I could feel every nurse and doctor at the station sneaking glances at me after the chaos.
That's the first-year who caused that massive screw-up. Something like that, probably.
I tried my best to ignore the stares and head back to my spot.
That's when it happened.
"Hey."
A cold, indifferent voice from behind.
It was third-year Han Jae-eon.
My heart dropped.
Here it comes.
The sin of a first-year performing an invasive procedure solo without senior approval.
Bracing for the hellish scolding ahead, I turned as politely as possible.
"Yes, doctor."
Han Jae-eon stood there, arms crossed, face blank, looking down at me.
I squeezed my eyes shut.
"You..."
She paused, choosing her words.
"You did well."
...Pardon?
I looked up, wondering if I'd misheard.
"You really did great. No first-year could pull that off. Seriously. Not empty words—when blood sprays like that, even third- or fourth-years panic and freeze. But you handled it alone."
The unexpected praise short-circuited my brain.
I stared at her blankly, and her voice dropped a tone.
"But..."
Ah.
There it is.
This "but" after the praise—that's the real point.
"Couldn't think of surgical airway management?"
Exactly what the gallery's crazy ghosts had torn into me about.
I just worked my lips, speechless.
"Ah..."
At my reaction, Han Jae-eon let out a deep sigh.
"Get it together, Hyun-jae. Do you know how risky that gamble was? What if intubation failed?"
...
"That patient would've died right in front of you. Drowned in blood or brain-damaged from hypoxia. And you? You'd be hit with a malpractice manslaughter suit and your career over. No matter your good intentions, death as the outcome doesn't fly. Got it?"
"...Yes."
All true.
Success let it get packaged as heroic, but failure would've cost me everything.
I bowed my head deeply.
No excuses possible.
Then Han Jae-eon's voice softened again.
"But..."
She tapped my shoulder.
"You really did great. You saved them."
With that, she turned and walked off.
I stood frozen in place for a long while.
Heaven and hell in one go.
Praise, reprimand, advice, warm acknowledgment.
That's a real senior.
Lost in a daze, I heard frantic footsteps from the pediatric ER in C section far off.
"Huff... huff... Han Hyun-jae!!! Where are you!!!"
I turned to see department chief Lee Min-jae sprinting this way, disheveled.
His white coat was plastered with unidentifiable pink character stickers.
Tormented by kids all day, it seemed.
"Just now!!! Is what the nurse said true?!?! Really?!?!?"
Lee Min-jae grabbed my shoulders and shook me like mad as soon as he reached me.
I felt dizzy enough to die.
"Tonsillectomy patient! Blood gushing from their throat like a fountain?! But you—alone!—jammed in the tube?! Is this for real, you lunatic!!!"
His racket drew every eye at the station back to me.
Too drained to reply, I just nodded.
Then a bizarre smile—ecstasy mixed with mania—spread across Lee Min-jae's face.
"Yes! Exactly! This is it! This boldness, calmly saving a life amid the blood-soaked chaos! That's the heart of an emergency medicine doc! What do those internal medicine guys know? They just stare at charts and numbers like monks! But you're different! You've proven it with action! Your blood runs as hot as ours!"
He pulled me into a hug with theatrical flair, like a stage actor.
Buried face-first in the character stickers on his gown, I thought:
Why do our shifts keep overlapping? That's the real mystery.
When will this cursed fate end?
I just hoped the commotion would die down soon.
But department chief Lee Min-jae showed no sign of letting go.
He gripped my shoulders tight, unleashing nonstop praise.
"This is what I saw in you! Internal medicine guys will sit at desks twirling pens forever. But us? We dive into the blood and breaking bones, pulling lives out with our hands! You're no mere doctor. You're a warrior! Fighting for patients on the front lines of this ER!"
Warrior, my ass.
I'm just a wage slave who wants to clock out.
Lee Min-jae was drumming and flailing solo in rapture.
"I misjudged you for a second! Thought you were some punk eyeing internal medicine! Sorry! Big bro apologizes! But now I get it! Your heart, your soul—it's here! With us in this hellish ER!"
No. My soul clocked out and is already in bed.
With vacant eyes, I watched Lee Min-jae's one-man musical.
How does this guy yap endlessly without tiring?
As awe at his lung capacity grew, his eyes flashed.
Like someone hit by divine revelation.
"No good. This needs reporting."
...Reporting what?
"Professor must know! That we have talent like this in emergency medicine! No more getting sneered at by internal medicine!"
"Wait? No, hold on, doctor?"
My protests fell on deaf ears.
Lee Min-jae bellowed loud enough to shake the ER.
"Professor Cheon!!! This kid's insane!!!! He just saved a life—not just saved, total hero stuff!!!"
"Agh, quiet down, Lee Min-jae doctor!!! Please!!!"
Near tears, I grabbed his arm, but the damage was done.
Every medical staffer at the station gawked in shock.
My face burned with embarrassment.
I wanted the earth to swallow me.
Luckily or not, today's attending Professor Cheon Eun-jeong wasn't nearby.
Lee Min-jae yelled a few more times, then deflated. "Eh, guess she's out. I'll tell her later." He gave my shoulder one last hard pat and headed back to peds ER.
I was drained. Soul gone. Adrenaline or whatever—the shame had burned every last drop of energy.
Leaning against the wall in a stupor, someone tapped me.
"Hey."
Third-year Han Jae-eon again.
"That post-op bleeding patient's guardian is here. Go explain."
"Oh? Oh, yes!"
Reality snapped back.
Right. Work wasn't over.
I willed strength into my wobbly legs and headed to the consult room.
A woman in her fifties sat there, face ashen.
The patient's mother.
I swallowed dryly and sat opposite her.
"You're the patient's guardian? I'm Han Hyun-jae, emergency medicine, who treated them just now."
I tried for a calm, trustworthy tone. Probably came out shaky.
"Bottom line first: They're stable now. No threat to your son's life."
"Really? Truly okay?"
"Yes. Stable at the moment. But it was critical until just now."
I explained as simply as possible.
"Your son had a tonsillectomy a week ago. Today, a vessel at the site burst, causing massive bleeding."
No graphic "fountain of blood"—I had that much sense.
"The clots blocked the airway, making breathing impossible. Without air, brain damage hits in minutes, then cardiac arrest. Your son was in mortal danger."
The mother bit her lip, listening.
"So we did emergency endotracheal intubation. Tube through the mouth to secure the airway, hooked to a ventilator. It succeeded, and now they're breathing steadily on it. Vitals good, bleeding stopped for now."
A tear finally traced down the mother's cheek.
"Thank you... truly, thank you, doctor..."
"No need, ma'am. They've probably gone upstairs by now. Nurses will connect you with ENT for more details later."
Explanation done.
The mother bowed repeatedly, thanking me nonstop.
Accepting it, I felt that strange weight again.
Dooming one to hellish despair, granting another heavenly hope.
Shouldering it all, I left the consult room.
Every ounce of energy had drained from my body.