Chapter 82
Chapter 82
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Harmful Sports (2)
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…Huh?
I couldn’t believe my ears.
What did he just say? Giants?
“Let’s move him to the treatment room first. We’ll run an EKG and basic labs.”
People get carted into the ER for every imaginable reason.
I swallowed a hollow laugh and followed the stretcher carrying the old man to the treatment room.
I carefully transferred Grandpa onto the treatment bed.
While attaching the EKG leads and wrapping the blood pressure cuff, he kept letting out faint
“Ugh…”
groans with his eyes closed.
Vitals were still stable.
So why on earth did he collapse?
“Sir, are you with us? Do you know where you are?”
I started with the basic consciousness checks.
Grandpa’s eyes fluttered open faintly.
His pupils were a bit unfocused, but it seemed like he recognized me.
“Here… is this… the hospital…?”
“Yes, that’s right. ER at the hospital. Do you happen to remember today’s date or what time it is?”
“Don’t know the date, but baseball game’s about over….”
“What’s your name and age?”
Basic orientation was intact.
“I heard you collapsed suddenly at home. Before that, did you have any chest pain, shortness of breath, sudden dizziness, anything like that?”
“Nothing like that… just… just…”
Grandpa’s face twisted in pain again.
He seemed unable to continue, as if recalling something horrific.
I wondered if that curse about those Giants bastards was connected.
“Grandpa, about baseball…”
I broached the subject cautiously, and his eyes wavered.
“How’d the Giants do today?”
At my blunt question, his face drained of color.
“Th-the… sc-score… Doc… I can’t… I can’t even say it….”
I glanced at the nurse securing the IV line.
“Nurse Jeong.”
“Yes, Doctor.”
“Do you know how today’s baseball game turned out?”
“Oh, Doctor, today…”
She let out a deep sigh.
“It was an away game at Jamsil. Leading 4-1 going into the bottom of the ninth.”
So far, so hopeful.
“Two outs, bases loaded in the bottom of the ninth—reverse grand slam, lost 5-4….”
…Krah!
I screamed internally.
Oh man. Now I perfectly understood why Grandpa collapsed.
I gazed at him on the bed with a mix of awe and pity.
“My brain… Ah… My head….”
Grandpa clutched his forehead, genuinely suffering.
I patted his shoulder with a wry smile.
What this patient needed right now wasn’t an EKG or bloodwork—it was warm comfort, maybe false hope that the Giants would win next year.
“Oh, my poor heart…”
“It’s just spring training, spring training. Regular season hasn’t even started. It’s just practice. Today’s loss means nothing. The real games haven’t begun.”
That’s right.
It was just past March—exhibition season had barely kicked off.
Grandpa’s groans paused at my words.
“Oh… but opening day’s end of the month….”
“Don’t get so worked up. You’ll have a real problem during the regular season.”
He still clutched his head, but the groans were softer.
Good. Crisis averted for now.
Time to do some real doctoring.
“Grandpa, you’ve never passed out or collapsed like this before?”
I launched into the full history.
Syncope has endless causes.
Could be heart, brain, or just a vasovagal episode from low blood pressure.
There was clear evidence pointing to baseball, but jumping to conclusions could miss something deadly.
“Nope… first time in my life….”
“Any history of high blood pressure, diabetes, heart issues?”
“BP meds for about ten years. No diabetes. Heart feels tight sometimes, but docs never said anything.”
Hypertension history.
One risk factor checked.
I mentally ticked it off and moved on.
“Right before collapsing, any sudden chest pain, tightness, palpitations? Dizziness, blackouts?”
I probed carefully for cardiac or neuro precursors.
“Just… watching baseball, then that… moment hit, vision went white… and lights out….”
Grandpa grimaced again, reliving the horror.
Classic vasovagal trigger and symptoms.
But too early to relax.
“Did you come to right away after? How long were you out?”
“Opened my eyes, son and daughter-in-law slapping my cheeks… maybe a minute….”
“No hits or injuries when you fell? Head or anywhere?”
I scanned his body again.
No trauma signs, thankfully.
“Fell toward the sofa….”
While questioning, I re-checked heart sounds with the stethoscope, pupil response with a penlight.
All normal.
EKG clean.
Sinus rhythm, normal rate, no arrhythmias.
Bloodwork pending.
But everything screamed one diagnosis.
[Vasovagal Syncope Induced by Giants’ Performance]
Hell of a diagnosis name.
Still, wait for labs to be sure.
What a spectacular night.
“Grandpa, about your collapse.”
I explained gently, simply.
“Medically, highest likelihood is vasovagal syncope.”
“Vaso-what?”
“Simple terms: extreme shock, stress, seeing blood—your autonomic nervous system, the autopilot for your body, glitches momentarily.”
I gestured as I went.
“Heart slows, vessels dilate, BP plummets. Brain starves for blood briefly, you pass out. Usually recovers in minutes, not dangerous. Happens to young folks donating blood or getting shots.”
Grandpa nodded, but still looked skeptical.
“But I’ve never…”
“Yeah, usually young or with strong triggers. Yours was a doozy today.”
*Ahem.*
“Grandpa, labs look good, you can go home—no admit. But baseball… uh… watch with caution. Especially nail-biters like today.”
His eyes flashed the instant I finished.
“What?! You telling me no baseball?”
“No, calm down. That’s not—”
“It’s my one joy! Old man’s only pleasure is soju and baseball. You can’t take that! Doc, that’s too much!”
“Hey, I love the Giants too! Diehard fan!”
I desperately dredged up my Busan DNA for the white lie.
Not quite diehard.
Five-year fan, tops.
“So I’m not saying never. Just in those situations, turn off the TV or deep breaths for health.”
I grabbed paper and pen.
And seriously drafted [Baseball Viewing Guidelines].
“Here’s a prescription.”
I wrote carefully, deliberately.
[※ High-Risk Baseball Viewing Avoidance Therapy ※]
- Bottom 9th, one-run lead, closer on mound (extra risky if long-haired)
- Two outs, bases loaded, full count (offense or defense, doesn’t matter—danger)
- Runners on 1st & 3rd, botched squeeze bunt
- Opposing cleanup hitter grinning at the plate
“There, Grandpa. Next time one of these hits, kill the TV, nap, or flip to a soap opera. Got it?”
I handed him the note.
He read it slowly.
Then burst out laughing.
“Heh heh, Doc’s got skills. Knows me inside out.”
Just like that, baseball bonded us strangely.
Labs came back then.
As expected—all normal.
Troponins clean, no electrolyte issues or anemia.
Perfectly healthy(?) Grandpa.
I called the family, re-explained condition, results, vasovagal syncope.
Similar episodes possible—don’t panic, legs up, he’ll recover quick.
And crucially:
“Dad gets too passionate watching, so family, please… manage closely.”
I couched the plea nicely.
After education, Grandpa walked out, son’s arm around him, face much calmer.
*Peaceful season, please.*
I tidied the room and returned to station.
Sat for final EMR charting, curiosity struck.
“Everyone watch the game today?”
Nurses and docs at the station stared in unison.
Then just smiled silently.
Of course.
Busan, sharing the pain.
Then, a new intern quietly stocking meds in the corner piped up brightly.
“Oh, I watched! I’m from Seoul. Bears fan…”
Before she finished—
Veteran Nurse Jeong’s hand zipped over, clamping her mouth.
Mmph mmph.