Chapter 81
Chapter 81
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Harmful Sports (1)
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I sensed the greatest crisis of my medical career in front of Baek Eun-seo's desperate, sparkling eyes.
It had finally come.
She was definitely about to ask me to teach her some ridiculous technique beyond my abilities, or propose we do a case study on some rare disease together.
How the hell was I supposed to handle this massive illusion created by the aftermath of REBOA?
I swallowed dryly, preparing to back away as naturally as possible.
"What? What do you need help with?"
But then...
It was surprisingly simple.
Baek Eun-seo adjusted her glasses and pointed with her finger at a bed in B section over there.
"Oh, the patient who just arrived in B-3 bed seems to have a dislocated finger. We took an X-ray, but I'm still a bit lacking, so I wanted some tips on reduction..."
...
Reduction?
Finger dislocation reduction?
"Oh, you meant help with the reduction?"
I let out a sigh of relief without realizing it.
Not a shoulder or elbow dislocation—just a finger dislocation.
This was basic treatment that even interns did occasionally; it didn't even qualify as a procedure.
"Yeah, sunbaenim! I saw it done a few times during my internship."
This was easy.
All my anxiety melted away like snow.
I could do this.
Even if my hands were cursed by God with clumsiness, putting a single dislocated finger bone back in place should be fine.
I'd seen so many posts in the gallery like [Finger Dislocation Reduction Tips.txt].
The angle to pull the finger, anesthesia method, post-reduction fixation—everything.
My head was already loaded with perfect theory.
I'd done it on a few patients myself... well, not many.
Still! It was a procedure even my clumsy hands could handle pretty well.
Compared to cutting open bellies or shoving balloons into the aorta, it was incomparably safer and simpler.
I was confident in this.
"Alright? Let's go check it out. So, what kind of patient is it?"
"Oh, about the patient..."
Baek Eun-seo unfolded the small memo in her hand as if she'd been waiting and started briefing.
"He's a 35-year-old male. He was playing basketball today, got hit wrong by the ball on his finger, and since then his fourth finger won't bend, so he came in. The X-ray shows..."
Baek Eun-seo pulled up the EMR screen and showed the fresh X-ray just taken.
In the image, the middle joint of the fourth finger was completely misaligned, with one bone clearly riding up over the other.
Textbook perfect?
"Got a good look at the image."
I nodded.
"Anyway, I wasn't sure if we should call Orthopedics (OS) for this, or if we could handle it ourselves..."
Baek Eun-seo asked cautiously.
Hmm... should we call OS for this?
Of course we could.
The hospital's fairy-like orthopedists would grumble but come and fix it anyway.
But it was 7:30 PM now.
Even if we called now, they'd take at least 30 minutes.
The patient would be in pain the whole time.
We could just fix this ourselves.
I made the decision.
This was something I could definitely handle.
"Nah. We can do this ourselves. No need to call OS. Let's go."
I stood up from my seat.
Baek Eun-seo hurriedly stood up after me.
"Okay, Eun-seo. Before we go to the patient, let's confirm a few things."
"Yes, sunbaenim."
"Did you check nerves and vessels? Finger tip sensation's fine, good capillary refill?"
"Yes! No sensory deficits, capillary refill time under 2 seconds—normal!"
Not bad.
"Then, what are the contraindications for reduction? When shouldn't we do it?"
"Um... open dislocations where the bone pierces the skin, associated fractures, or suspected nerve or vessel damage—we shouldn't touch it recklessly..."
"Okay. Perfect."
I nodded with a very satisfied expression.
Theory's solid.
Now just the practical.
"Good. Let's go."
We pulled back the curtain at B-3 bed.
The patient was still staring down at his twisted finger with a pained expression.
I headed to the emergency cart, trying to look as skilled and relaxed as a veteran.
"Lidocaine okay... 10cc syringe and 27-gauge needle... povidone stick... sterile gauze..."
I gathered the supplies one by one, mentally reviewing the procedure steps again.
Inject local anesthetic on both sides of the dislocated finger to reduce pain during reduction.
Even I, with my clumsy hands, had done this dozens of times.
Preparation done, I approached the patient again.
"Patient."
"Yes..."
"I'm going to inject anesthetic into your sore finger first, then put the bone back in place."
But then I noticed Baek Eun-seo standing right next to me, her sparkling eyes watching my every word and move intently.
Oh, right.
Teaching.
I cleared my throat awkwardly and added,
"But since we're at a university hospital, there's an educational purpose too. The colleague next to me here is learning, so..."
I nodded toward Baek Eun-seo.
'Why are your eyes so damn sparkling? It's intimidating.'
"Anyway, I'll proceed with her watching. That's okay, right?"
The patient nodded through the pain, as if he had no choice.
And so, I finished the most ridiculous, out-of-place first senior lecture in the world.
'Had I done reductions during my internship?'
My memory was hazy.
I couldn't remember.
"Okay, this'll sting a bit."
The needle pierced the skin.
After about 5 minutes, the patient's expression eased.
"How's it now? Not as painful when I touch it?"
"Just a tingling feeling..."
"Good. Now I'll reduce it. Watch closely."
I glanced at Baek Eun-seo, then grabbed the patient's finger. Tips from the gallery flashed through my mind.
I started the reduction smoothly.
"Relax, patient. Breathe out—haaa..."
With the finger pulled straight, I pressed down firmly on the protruding bone with my thumb.
Then, simultaneously, I flexed the whole finger slightly.
Pop.
Success.
I carefully flexed and extended the patient's finger.
It moved smoothly now, unlike before.
"How's that? Can you move it now?"
"Yes! That's amazing!"
Relief and surprise spread across the patient's face in a smile.
"Now we'll take another X-ray to confirm the bone's in place, then splint it."
After sending the patient to radiology, I returned to the station.
"Sunbaenim, you were so fast!"
"Haha, no big deal. You get the hang of it after a few times."
Yeah, thanks, bone fanatic.
I'll show you those bone marrow slides soon.
I promised.
Moments later, the X-ray appeared on the EMR screen.
Nice.
The finger bones were perfectly aligned, as if nothing had happened.
Perfect.
I smiled in satisfaction, scheduled ortho clinic follow-up, and prescribed discharge meds.
"Make sure to go to ortho clinic. Don't remove the splint until then. No straining the finger."
The patient nodded repeatedly.
The patient bowed and left the ER.
Yeah, sometimes you need this kind of thing.
Can't just hear blood and screams all day.
The clean success of the finger dislocation reduction planted a dangerous illusion in me for a brief moment—that maybe I was a pretty decent doctor.
Yeah, do it by the book, follow principles, and it works?
Maybe I'd finally escaped my clumsy hands?
But that short self-delusion shattered instantly under the barrage of questions from my juniors.
As if I were a walking medical encyclopedia, Baek Eun-seo kept coming to me with endless basic questions.
"Sunbaenim! Earlier in A section, when Dr. Lee Min-jae placed the central line with ultrasound guidance—books say start with landmarks first, but does everyone use ultrasound in practice? And tips for distinguishing artery from vein on ultrasound..."
"Just press lightly with the probe—vein squishes, artery stays round and pulsates."
The questions had no end.
From EKG reading to antibiotic selection criteria, fluid types and indications, even pointless ones like "Sunbaenim, what'd you have for lunch?"
I answered in a half-dazed state, mixing my shallow knowledge with random gallery ghost tidbits to satisfy her curiosity.
Somehow, I endured the question bombs with empty advice and gallery-sourced trivia.
Answered what I knew, bullshitted the rest convincingly, or said "Look it up yourself—that's how you improve."
See? I'm a great senior.
Before I knew it, time approached 8:20 PM.
Seeing 20:20 in the monitor's bottom right, I let out a deep sigh.
Only 1 hour 20 minutes since starting work—why did my soul already feel checked out?
The station was miraculously peaceful for a moment.
Evening patients sorted, short lull before the next wave.
I sat in an empty chair and closed my eyes.
Just 10 minutes... no, 5 minutes of passing out...
Right then.
"Patient incoming!"
A paramedic's urgent shout came from the ER automatic doors.
119 ambulance rolled in with a patient.
The stretcher cart barreled toward the station with a racket.
On it lay a man who looked in his 60s, eyes closed, motionless.
I jumped up reflexively and stuck to the stretcher side.
"What happened?"
"Yes, family found him collapsed suddenly in the living room at home and called. Conscious on scene arrival. Vitals now: BP 110/70, pulse 70, respirations 18, SpO2 98%. GCS 15, alert. Oxygen at 2L nasal cannula en route. No other trauma."
The paramedic's briefing was quick and concise. As I listened, I rapidly assessed the patient on the stretcher.
Lifted his eyelids to check pupil response, checked bilateral limb movement.
No paralysis apparent.
'What is it? Brief LOC? Vasovagal syncope? Arrhythmia?'
As I ran differentials in my head.
The patient faintly opened his eyes and muttered in a raspy voice.
"Gia... Giants... th-those... bastards...."