The second resident leaned in, he said in a whisper so se-na doesn't hear him, as she move to other patient. "She's taunting you, man," his eyes wide and tone mocking. "She's saying if you stay this incompetent, you'll be killing enough patients that your father's business will never run out of orders for coffins." and then he pat on his shoulder.
The first-year's face went a sickly shade of white. He looked down at the chart in his hands, which was suddenly shivering in his fingers. Se-na heard him but instead of saying anything a smile came on her own face. She didn't feel a flicker of remorse or even the weight of her own words. To her, she was just stating a statistical probability.
She pushed into Room 602, the resident following her without any more talks. The woman on the bed was deathly pale, clutching a rosary so tight her knuckles were white, her eyes raw and puffy. And absolutely Se-na didn't see a mother or a person; she saw a chest cavity that she'd be cracking open in two hours.
"Check her vitals again," Se-na snapped at the nurse, completely ignoring the woman's reaching hand. "Her pressure is too high. If she doesn't stop sobbing, the surgery is canceled. I don't work like this."
"Doctor, please," the woman sobbed, her voice trembling as she clutched her rosary. "I have three kids... I'm so afraid I won't wake up."
Se-na didn't even bother looking up from the report, her thumb tracing the tablet's edge. "Your 'kids' aren't that young," she said, her voice dry. "They're all living their own lives, barely concerned with whether you're breathing or not. It's me saving you; otherwise, I reckon no one really cares if you make it through the night. You should have spent more time writing your will and less time crying over children who haven't visited you once since you were admitted. They aren't 'mother-fed' infants, so stop this nonsense at once if you actually want to live."
Then she turned to the nurse, her tone sharpening. "Nurse, check everything. If there is even a minor discrepancy, report it to me immediately. I don't want some absurd issue landing in front of me once I've already cut her open on the cold slab."
The woman was already scared and these words added to her misery. She flinched and gave a silent sob, but se-na without any regard or word swept out of the room, leaving the poor nurse to console her.
Se-na didn't care about the weight of her vocabulary. Words like "cut up," "on the slab," or "dying" were just technical realities to her. To her, sugarcoating was a form of lying, and she didn't have the energy for either. After the rounds she retreated to the cold sanctuary of her office, looking to bury herself in stats and reports. She was leaning back, eyes scanning the data on her screen, when a notification suddenly popped up on her phone.
It was jarring. She actually jumped, a rare, painful spike of fear hitting her chest. She immediately pressed a hand over her aching heart, forced to take a long, shaky breath.
This was unusual. It had never happened before; the intimidating Maeng Se-na, a woman who wouldn't even flinch in a haunted house, getting scared by a mere vibration. Usually, a notification like that meant a stock she owned was tanking, and she despised the idea of her net worth dropping.
She reached for the phone, her hand still resting on her chest to calm her heart, but the door flew open. "She's ready, Dr. Maeng. Everything is clear."
Se-na let out a heavy, irritated sigh. "Another damn..." she muttered, shutting the phone off without checking the news. She shoved it into her locker and headed for the OR.
The CABG procedure was a brutal marathon. It took her exactly four hours and thirty-six minutes of intense, high-stakes precision. By the time she stepped out, five hours of hectic work had passed, and she was aching in every joint.
She still had to do rounds. The residents were lined up like soldiers, and she tore through them with her usual sharp tongue. By the time the final chart was signed, it was finally time to clock out.
She changed frantically, desperate to get home. But as she headed for the exit, the red alarm the emergency "Code Blue" for the whole department shattered the quiet.
"You've got to be kidding me," she cursed, hitting the elevator button repeatedly.
And then her phone rang.
It read Head Nurse.
She put it on silent.
It rang again.
This time it was The Chief.
"Are we that close?" she hissed at the screen before silencing him too.
"I am not an on-call slave." She said to herself.
She finally made it to the parking lot amid the calls, her mind already on her couch. But when she reached her SUV, her heart dropped. The tire was completely flat not just low, but ruined.
"Damn! Damn! DAMN!" she screamed, her voice the only sound echoing off the concrete walls of the parking garage.
She slammed her palms against the bonnet of the SUV, the metal vibrating under the force of her rage until her hands stung with a dull, throbbing heat. Finally, her strength gave out, and she let her forehead drop onto the cool, hard surface of the hood.
She stayed like that for a moment, eyes squeezed shut, feeling utterly miserable, exhausted, and trapped.
Giving up and sighing, she turned back toward the building to find another way out. But as she approached, she realized the "Code Blue" wasn't a standard emergency. The lobby was a war zone. Media outlets were already swarming the entrance, cameras flashing and reporters shouting, while security struggled to keep them from breaking through the glass doors.
interested she headed into the emergency. Inside, the atmosphere was even more frantic and pure chaos. A man lay on a gurney, his face hidden by a wall of doctors.
"Oooo… another hero, another stock" she said with an eyebrow flash without realizing. "tsk…sadly it seems, they are going to drop." She said as she saw the man's hand limping off the bed.
The Chief of Emergency was nowhere to be seen, and a few terrified novice doctors were confusedly fumbling through resuscitation. Then she heard a nurse screaming, "Where is Dr. Choi? Is there no one on shift? No doctor available? Did you call Dr. Maeng? WE ARE LOOSING HIM!" she barked at the top of her lungs, but before anyone could reply her Dr. Choi burst through the doors behind Se-na, as she was trying to get away, shoving her hard out of the way as he rushed to the bed. But the shove pushed her right up to the gurney, making her look at the man, and for a heartbeat, she was stuck dead. Then, an unbelievable, hysterical smile started to form on her lips. She put her hand to her head, a soft, shaky laugh escaping her.
"hah! This is ... ! I am HALLUCINATING! Am i that much tired that I have finally lost it?" she whispered to herself. She began to back away, her legs heavy as lead, not daring to look at the man again convinced that if she looked away, the hallucination would dissolve.
But the chaos of the ER had no mercy. Another nurse rushed in, shoulder-checking her and pushing her even closer to the metal rail of the bed.
Se-na's eyes were forced back to his face. She looked at the man's face again.
The smile died instantly. The noise of the ER the frantic shouting, the rhythmic beeping of the monitors, the background clamor fell away into a deafening, suffocating muffle. Her body went completely numb, her blood turning to ice in her veins. A high, piercing whistle began to ring in her ears, and her head spun so violently she thought she might hit the floor. it felt as if she was underwater.
The world was a blur of white light and clinical smells until a harsh, commanding voice cracked through her paralysis. It was Dr. Choi, his face glistening with sweat as he hovered over the body.
"CLEAR!"
"SHOCK!"
The man's body jolted, a violent, unnatural thud against the mattress.
The monitor gave a long, flat whine that felt like it was slicing through Se-na's brain.
"CLEAR!
SHOCK!"
Each surge of electricity felt like it was hitting Se-na instead of him.
"CLEAR!
SHOCK!"
.
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