24ES | Chapter 10.6

Kangin’s usual lethargic demeanor was replaced with a focused intensity, surprising everyone in the room. Even the nurses, who had dubbed him the “orthopedics slacker,” were taken aback by his transformation.

“Yes, this leg,” Yesung said, guiding him to the child’s left leg. Kangin’s eyes momentarily sparkled as he met Yesung’s gaze before inspecting the swollen thigh with a furrowed brow.

“This knee wound only needs cleaning, disinfecting, and a few light stitches. But the real issue is the thigh. It’s severely swollen from being pinned under the concrete for so long. Let’s hope there’s no tissue necrosis.”

Jin Kangin, infamous for his timid and clumsy nature, seemed like a completely different person. His calm assessment and precise diagnosis left the staff slack-jawed.

Only Yesung, arms crossed, remained unshaken. With a faint nod, he acknowledged the change in his colleague.

“Indeed… it looks that way to me as well. Let’s hope we can avoid the worst-case scenario.”

The worst-case scenario: amputation. While Jin Kangin continued his meticulous examination of the child’s leg, Im Dowoon approached Yesung with a hesitant voice full of worry.

“D-Doctor, do you think it’ll be okay?”

His whispered concern was evident as he watched Jin Kangin closely. Yesung knew why Dowoon was anxious—after all, there were plenty of infamous rumors about Kangin circulating among the staff at Hanguk University Hospital. The man was practically a walking legend of whispered doubts and skepticism.

Yesung shifted his gaze from Kangin, who was carefully inspecting the child, to Dowoon.

“Yes, it’ll be fine. Don’t worry, Dr. Im. Dr. Jin will handle this thoroughly.”

Hearing the calm confidence in Yesung’s voice, Dowoon’s eyes widened. But being quick to assess the situation, he nodded without further objection. With his resolve firmed, Dowoon clenched his fists.

“Yes! The nurse went to get the blood packs. I requested them as soon as I got the initial call, so they should be ready shortly.”

Yesung couldn’t help but smile at the proactive intern. “Good job, Dr. Im.”

“No, really, it’s nothing!”

Despite the compliment, Dowoon tried to hide his grin, but his expression betrayed his pride. As Yesung watched the younger doctor fondly, Kangin straightened his back after finishing his examination.

“Thankfully, the child’s bones haven’t shattered completely since he’s still young. But it looks like they’ve split in two from the impact of the concrete. However, the prolonged pressure and the internal fractures are concerning… There’s definitely internal bleeding, and I suspect potential damage to surrounding tissues. Dr. Han, can we get a CT and X-ray immediately?”

“It’s a closed fracture, then?”

“Yes.”

It was some relief that the injury wasn’t an open fracture, but closed fractures weren’t free of danger either. Internal bleeding and the potential for tissue necrosis had to be addressed.

“Yes, but moving the patient right now isn’t an option. His pulse is too unstable. The nurse went to get blood packs, so let’s wait for those.”

“If it’s just a little while… Understood.”

Though clearly anxious, Kangin forced himself to remain composed. The patient’s body temperature had returned to normal, and all eyes were on the clock, waiting for the blood packs to arrive. But as the moments dragged on, the promised blood packs didn’t show.

“What’s taking so long…? I’ll go check!”

Anxious because he’d been the one to request the blood, Dowoon bolted out of the treatment room. Feeling a similar unease, Yesung turned to Kangin.

“I’ll step out for a moment as well, Dr. Jin.”

“Of course, Dr. Han. Take your time.”

Kangin’s unwavering trust was almost unnerving, but Yesung managed a smile and left. Outside, the ER was in chaos. The commotion seemed to come from the direction of the resuscitation room, where only the most critical patients were taken.

The automatic doors to the resuscitation area, usually controlled by ID badges, swung open and shut as medical staff rushed in and out.

“More blood packs, hurry!”

“Move! Let me through!”

“Quick, bring the defibrillator!”

Urgent shouts filled the air, drawing the attention of patients and their families, who craned their necks to see what was happening.

Yesung’s gaze locked onto the resuscitation room, where the floor was smeared with blood. On the bed lay a patient, and standing over them, furiously performing CPR, was none other than Jung Hageon.

The scene clicked in Yesung’s mind. The delay in getting the blood packs must have been because they were diverted here.

“They went there,” he muttered.

This was common in the ER. Yesung’s patient was an emergency, but in cases of higher urgency, resources like CTs, X-rays, or even blood supplies were often reassigned.

He couldn’t take his eyes off Hageon, who was drenched in sweat, fighting to save a life. Just then, Dowoon returned, out of breath, carrying the blood packs with a nurse.

“Huff… Huff… Dr. Han!”

“Dr. Im.”

“I-I’m so sorry! I swear I requested them first, but… another critical patient came in, and our turn was delayed. I’m really sorry!”

Seeing Dowoon bowing repeatedly, almost in tears, Yesung stepped forward to calm him.

“It’s okay, Dr. Im. You know how the ER works. This happens all the time. And it wasn’t that late anyway. Let’s get back to it and start the transfusion. Once the patient stabilizes, we can get those scans done.”

“Yes, sir!”

With a pat on Dowoon’s shoulder, Yesung reassured him and headed back to the treatment room, leaving Hageon and the resuscitation room chaos behind.

—

As soon as the transfusion began, the patient’s blood pressure quickly stabilized. Maintaining a relatively normal state, the CT and X-ray scans were completed.

However, the results of the CT and X-ray showed that the child’s condition was worse than expected. While the swollen thigh initially suggested only a femur fracture, the kneecap was also dislocated. On top of that, the bone had fractured internally, and the prolonged pressure from the concrete had severely damaged the blood vessels, surrounding ligaments, and muscle tissues.

An emergency surgery was urgently needed. As soon as the results were out, Jin Gangin, visibly pale, ran frantically around the emergency room.

Yesung watched Jin Gangin from a step behind, recalling the brief conversation they’d shared just before the CT and X-ray results were revealed.

“Dr. Han…”

A cautious voice called out to him. Turning around, Yesung saw Jin Gangin standing there, looking hesitant.

“Yes, Dr. Jin? Do you have something to tell me?” Yesung asked, tilting his head with a curious expression.

“Uh, yes, I… I…” Jin Gangin hesitated, avoiding Yesung’s gaze, nervously fidgeting with his hands. What was he trying to say, hesitating like that? As Yesung slightly furrowed his brows in confusion, Jin Gangin suddenly raised his voice.

“Th-thank you, Dr. Han!”

And that wasn’t all—he even bowed deeply to express his gratitude.

“Really, truly, thank you so much, Dr. Han. I just had to tell you that.”

Startled by the sudden outburst, Yesung couldn’t help but blink in surprise.

“W-what? Why are you doing this all of a sudden, Dr. Jin?”

When Yesung asked, unable to hide his confusion, Jin Gangin’s face crumpled, as if he were about to cry. With trembling lips, he finally spoke.

“You were the first doctor to recognize my skills, Dr. Han. I joined orthopedics because I loved bones. I thought if I worked here, I could become a great doctor. That’s why I applied…”

His voice trailed off as he bit his lip tightly before continuing.

“But reality was different. It wasn’t easy, not at all. Even for the smallest mistakes, I’d get scolded by professors and seniors from above, while juniors who seemed ready to surpass me trampled me from below. At some point, my drive to do well disappeared. I felt… completely drained.”

Yesung already knew how grueling orthopedics could be. He had seen and heard about how even minor errors by first-year residents would lead to public scoldings by third-years in the emergency room. Kang Baek-o, who witnessed such incidents, had once commented cynically:

“Is orthopedics full of perfectionists or something? Dr. Jang Kihyun might be the only decent one there. Seriously, what a bunch of jerks. They’re bound to mess up big someday.”

Yesung had wholeheartedly agreed. No one could be perfect all the time. Yet, orthopedics didn’t tolerate even the tiniest mistakes that could be brushed off with a bit of encouragement. It was no wonder so many residents felt they couldn’t endure it.

With orthopedics being a highly competitive specialty, the residents were treated as expendable, with no sense of flexibility or understanding. Anyone would want to escape such a stifling environment, which explained the frequent cases of orthopedics residents transferring to other departments.

Jin Gangin seemed to be one of those cases, beaten down and never receiving proper recognition, leading to a serious loss of confidence—and eventually, burnout.

Clenching his fists tightly, Jin Gangin continued.

“To be honest… I was thinking of quitting. I thought someone like me would just be a burden if I opened a private clinic. I was considering finding another path. But then… I happened to meet you, Dr. Han, here in the emergency room.”

Was he saying his life had changed because of the recognition and praise Yesung had casually given him? Jin Gangin, eyes glistening with tears, bowed deeply again.

“That’s why I had to thank you… Thank you so much, Dr. Han.”

Watching Jin Gangin struggle to express his gratitude, Yesung let out a quiet sigh internally. That day, Yesung hadn’t believed in Jin Gangin’s abilities. He had trusted him because Jang Kihyun had assured him of Jin Gangin’s skills.

When Jin Gangin had surprised him by handling the reduction procedure so confidently in the treatment room, it was because Yesung had already been informed of the change by Jang Kihyun—the same person who had recognized Jin Gangin’s abilities from the start.

“What exactly did you say to Dr. Jin—uh, I mean, Jin Gangin—that day, Dr. Han?”

“Pardon? Why do you ask all of a sudden?”

“That guy changed, like, 180 degrees! Not 90 degrees, not 120—but a full 180! And all in one day!”

“What? Wait, you don’t mean in a bad way, do you?”

“No! If it were bad, I wouldn’t be calling you so excitedly! Jin Gangin has improved in such a good way. It’s like he’s been reborn! So please, tell me, Dr. Han—what on earth did you say to him?”

Recalling Jang Kihyun’s excited phone call, Yesung nearly chuckled. Jang Kihyun had been overjoyed, as if it were his own success, to see his once-frustrating colleague transformed into a reliable doctor.

Yesung looked at Jin Gangin and said firmly, “I think you’re thanking the wrong person.”

“…What? What do you mean?”

“That gratitude should go to Dr. Jang Kihyun, not me. He’s the one who asked me to trust you with the patient reduction procedure. He believed in your skills from the start, even when I couldn’t.”

“Dr. Jang… did?”

“Yes. He even said he’d take full responsibility if anything went wrong. So your thanks belong to him, not me.”