Possession, Part 2
My shoulders felt heavier than usual. I couldn't tell if it was because of those crazy ghosts or just chronic fatigue.
Well, at least I have a secret weapon now.
Comforting myself with that thought, I walked back to the station. A hellish backlog of charting was waiting for me. I was tapping away at the keyboard, killing time with mindless work, when the phone in the center of the ER rang. Everyone's eyes darted toward it. The most senior nurse, who was standing closest, picked up the receiver. Her expression stiffened instantly.
"Yes, Emergency Medical Center... Yes, a male in his thirties... Understood. Multi-car collision on the highway... Vehicle rollover... What's his mental status?"
The nurse's voice grew faster and more urgent. All movement at the station ground to a halt.
"What are the field vitals? Yes... Yes... Got it."
Slamming the phone down, the nurse shouted loud enough to shake the entire station.
"TA patient, ETA nine minutes! Thirty-four-year-old male, vehicle rollover from a multi-car pileup on the highway. Extraction took some time! He's stuporous on-scene, BP eighty over fifty, heart rate one-thirty! Abdominal distension observed, and suspected deformity in the left femur!"
With those words, the ER erupted into a frenzy.
"Clear Bed One in the Resuscitation Room! Get the trauma cart out!"
"Call radiology! Tell them to bring the portable X-ray down right now!"
"Is there an open ICU bed? Did you double-check the status messages?"
The ER transformed into a war zone in the blink of an eye. Shouts echoed from every corner as medical staff scrambled. I stood dazed for a moment in the center of the chaos until someone slapped my shoulder hard. It was Fellow Park Se-yeong.
"Snap out of it! Put on your lead apron first."
"Ah, yes, ma'am!"
I rushed over to grab a heavy lead vest and threw it on. Over that, I layered a plastic PPE gown and strapped on a face shield. Within seconds, my entire body was slick with sweat.
When I returned to the Resuscitation Room, the team was already assembled. The team leader was Park Se-yeong. Airway was fourth-year resident Yoo Sung-hoon. Circulation was second-year resident Nam Ju-hyeon. An intern and I were designated as the spare parts below them, tasked with handling all the grunt work.
"Assigning roles," Park Se-yeong commanded. "Yoo Sung-hoon, you manage airway and C-spine protection. Nam Ju-hyeon, establish bilateral IV lines and identify any bleeding points. I'll lead the team, monitor the overall situation, and handle the ultrasound. Han Hyeon-jae."
"Yes, Professor."
"Once the patient is in, you and the intern cut off his clothes immediately. And make sure you follow my orders without delay. Got it?"
"Yes! Understood!"
In a major trauma case like this, a first-year resident was no savior. I was merely a pair of hands and feet expected to move as quickly and efficiently as possible. Accepting my role, I stood by the resuscitation bed and waited for the patient to arrive.
Those nine minutes felt like an eternity. Finally, the distant wail of an ambulance siren pierced the air. The ER's automatic doors slid open, and paramedics rushed in, pushing a stretcher while shouting over the din.
"His blood pressure dropped again during transport! It hit seventy!"
The patient was wheeled into the Resuscitation Room. He was in a horrific state. His entire body was caked in dirt and blood, and his left leg was bent at a grotesque angle.
"One, two, three!"
With a coordinated heave, the paramedics and our team transferred the patient from the stretcher to the resuscitation bed. Instantly, everyone sprang into action, moving in perfect sync according to our pre-assigned roles.
While Yoo Sung-hoon shook the patient's shoulders to check his level of consciousness, the intern and I began shearing away his clothes. As the blood-soaked, sweat-drenched fabric was ripped away, the patient's body was laid bare. His abdomen was visibly distended, and his skin was covered in dark bruises and deep abrasions.
"Bilateral breath sounds are clear!"
"I've got an eighteen-gauge line in the right arm! The left side is completely collapsed, I can't find a vein!"
"I'll secure the other line via the femoral vein!"
At the same time, Park Se-yeong pressed an ultrasound probe against the patient's abdomen.
"Ah... Morison's pouch is positive. He's bleeding internally."
Everything unfolded at a breakneck pace. I simply followed orders, wrapping the blood pressure cuff around the patient's arm and clipping on the pulse oximeter—performing the mechanical tasks expected of a first-year resident.
As the patient's blood pressure continued to plummet, Park Se-yeong finally barked, "Get four packs of O-type PRBCs right now! Skip the crossmatch and start the transfusion immediately!"
The intern bolted. Moments later, the blood bags arrived, and the dark red fluid began pumping rapidly into the patient's veins.
The patient needed emergency surgery. General Surgery was paged, and an operating room was prepped. Our job was simply to keep him from dying before he could make it upstairs.
Ten minutes that felt like an hour dragged by. Finally, the surgical team arrived.
"Let's move him up!"
Draped in a web of tubes and monitors, the patient was rushed toward the elevator without even stopping for a CT scan. The elevator doors slid shut, and he vanished from sight.
Phew.
Returning to the Resuscitation Room, the adrenaline faded, leaving my body completely drained.
"What a circus," I muttered, leaning against the wall.
No one had died. The patient had left our hands alive. I replayed the scene in my head. Yeah. Even with a trauma patient of this caliber, our hospital and our team have more than enough capability to handle it. Do I really need that Possession skill? What good would it do for me to suddenly awaken as the 'Scalpel God' in the middle of a team effort like that? It would probably just disrupt the teamwork.
There's no way I'll ever have to use that skill in my medical career.
Chuckling to myself, I began picking up the trash scattered across the floor.
Cleaning up the Resuscitation Room was always a hollow, exhausting chore. The remnants of the desperate struggle to save a human life were now reduced to blood-stained gauze scattered on the floor, empty IV bags, and discarded alcohol swabs emitting a sharp, sterile odor.
As I stripped off the sweat-soaked PPE gown and the heavy lead apron, my shoulders, which had been crushed under the weight, throbbed with pain.
"Ugh, my shoulders..."
Every muscle in my body screamed, but I didn't feel bad. If anything, a strange sense of fulfillment washed over me.
We had done it. By performing our roles flawlessly, we had pulled a fading life back from the brink. Yes, this was the power of a system. It wasn't a single genius who saved patients, but a well-oiled team. There seemed to be absolutely no room for an alien, overpowering skill like Possession to interfere.
There's no way I'll ever have to use that skill in my medical career.
I smirked, tying off the last trash bag. It was just an incredibly expensive insurance policy—one I should hope to never use.
Right then.
"Aaaagh!"
A piercing shriek erupted from the triage desk near the ER entrance. It wasn't an ambulance siren or a paramedic's shout. It was a raw, primal scream.
Everyone at the station whipped their heads around in unison. The ER's automatic doors were wide open, and a man was stumbling inside. He wore construction overalls, and his abdominal area was soaked in a dark, reddish-black stain. Clutching his stomach with a deathly pale face, he managed only a few steps before collapsing onto the floor with a dull, heavy thud.
"Help...! Somebody help us! He's... he's...!" another man who had followed him inside wailed, practically sobbing.
"What is this? We didn't get an ETA!"
Park Se-yeong's voice cut through the room. There was no time to prepare. This was an unannounced disaster—pure, unadulterated chaos.
"Don't panic! Get him onto Bed Two in the Resuscitation Room immediately! Is it clear?"
"Yes, Professor!"
"Yoo Sung-hoon, Nam Ju-hyeon, Han Hyeon-jae! Get your lead aprons back on! Right now!"
Just my luck.
Swallowing a sigh, I sprinted back toward the Resuscitation Room. I slung the damp, heavy lead vest I had just stripped off back over my shoulders. It felt like stepping right back into hell.
Bed Two was a scene of utter bedlam. Nurses were frantically transferring the patient to the bed as shouts erupted from all sides.
"The patient is barely conscious! He's only responding slightly to painful stimuli!"
"Heart rate is one-forty!"
The same team had assembled once again, but the atmosphere was entirely different. Anxiety and bewilderment were written all over their faces.
"Han Hyeon-jae! Take the intern and cut his clothes off first! We need to see what we're dealing with!"
At Park Se-yeong's shout, I snapped out of it and grabbed a pair of trauma shears.
As we cut away the overalls caked in blood and dirt, the patient's abdomen was exposed. Everyone in the room gasped.
There was a hideous wound on the patient's abdomen, easily two to three centimeters in diameter. The flesh surrounding the puncture was blackened, and a filthy rag was tangled inside the wound, likely a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding.
"Rebar... He was impaled by a rusty rebar at the construction site!"
Along with the frantic air of the ER, my brain momentarily ground to a halt.