Trauma Center : Golden Hour - Chapter 103

“Ah… is that so.”

Jaewon looked toward the leg of the rescue call patient, who was still in civilian clothes.

With all the emergency care, the belt was undone and the pants were pulled down a bit.

But there was absolutely no way to disinfect the leg in this condition.

“Nurse Baek, hand me the scissors. Keep pouring [saline] here for me.”

(T/N: [Saline] is a sterile solution of salt in water, commonly used to clean wounds or irrigate tissues during surgery.)

“I’ll do that.”

Jang-mi nodded without hesitation.

Most assistant nurses were reluctant to physically touch the patient, but she’d long gotten used to it and no longer hesitated or complained.

“Here you go.”

“Oh, good sense as always.”

Jaewon nodded at the large utility scissors Jang-mi handed over.

They were surgical scissors, but not ones used directly on the body—too clunky for that.

Mostly, they were for cutting supplies needed during surgery.

Snip, snip.

Jaewon used the scissors to cut away the patient’s pants.

He used to wonder if it was okay to do this, but he didn’t feel anything anymore.

‘I remember even asking what if it was expensive.’

It was a silly question in the middle of saving a life, but you can’t help being curious.

Jaewon couldn’t forget the look on Kang-hyuk’s face back then.

‘Idiot. How many severely injured trauma patients do you think are rich?’

He didn’t even remember if Kang-hyuk had actually said “idiot,” but it was clear nothing else could have come from that face.

Still, there was something he realized after hearing that:

‘Most trauma patients… their lives are just rough…’

It wasn’t just people hurt at work sites.

Major traffic accidents usually happened late at night when traffic was light.

Why would rich people be on the road at that hour?

It was mostly people finishing late shifts or working in fields that required labor at odd hours.

‘Same goes for this patient.’

The report said the patient had been injured by falling debris at a construction site.

There were bloodstained bricks broken around him.

From the looks of things, he was probably struck in the chest by a brick.

Jaewon wondered how someone would get hit in the chest, not the head, but still—better the chest than the head.

Snip, snip.

Jaewon cut away the pants, caked with dirt, sweat, and blood.

They were pants that showed the hardship and struggle of the patient’s life.

“Here.”

Jang-mi, as if waiting for Jaewon to finish, handed over the [Betadine disinfectant].

“Thanks.”

“It’s tough work—we’ve got to help each other.”

“Are you pouring [saline]?”

“If I didn’t, Professor Baek would lose his mind.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

Jaewon, picturing Kang-hyuk’s angry face, hurried to wipe down the patient’s thigh.

Normally, you’d lift the leg and disinfect every nook and cranny.

But with so few people, that just wasn’t possible.

‘It’s not like we’re taking muscle. The incision area is small.’

Back then, if Kang-hyuk had told him to clean the leg for heart repair, Jaewon would have had no idea why.

Now he could predict it exactly.

‘He wants the [fascia lata].’
(T/N: [Fascia lata] is a band of tough connective tissue on the outer thigh, often harvested for surgical grafts or repairs.)

He was sure of it.

“Didn’t he say to clean the forearm, too?”

Jang-mi asked Jaewon, who looked satisfied with himself.

She was sure she’d heard that.

“Uh… did he?”

“Yeah, he pointed at the forearm and said to clean everywhere.”

“Ah… I was so focused on the heart, I didn’t see his hands. But why clean the forearm…?”

[The fascia lata] was often used for reconstruction when something was torn.

It’s tough, strong, plentiful, and removing it doesn’t really affect daily life.

Jaewon had taken [fascia lata] several times before.

But the forearm—this was a first.

“Why are you asking me…? I’m just like you.”

“True. We’re in the same boat.”

“Let’s just do it. When did following orders ever get us in trouble?”

“Yeah…”

But there was a flaw in Jang-mi’s statement.

Both she and Jaewon suffered plenty by following Kang-hyuk’s orders.

Jang-mi worked nearly double her contracted hours and got no extra pay.

Jaewon didn’t even have hours listed in his contract—he was a “slave” in name and reality.

‘But no patient’s ever gotten worse from doing what Professor says.’

At least for the patients, Kang-hyuk’s words were absolute.

Swipe, swipe.

So, Jaewon began cleaning the patient’s forearm without even knowing why.

All the clothes the patient had worn in the helicopter had already been cut away, so it was easy.

The patient’s forearm was thick—almost twice Jaewon’s size.

‘Probably like Professor Baek’s.’

It was clear the patient had spent a long time doing hard physical labor.

But then, how was Kang-hyuk in such good shape? It’s not like he made time to work out.

Rattle.

As Jaewon finished cleaning both forearms, Kang-hyuk returned.

His hair was damp, like he’d just showered.

It wasn’t a waste of time—he couldn’t operate covered in blood, dirt, and sand.

“You cleaned both sides?”

Kang-hyuk dried off with the disposable towel Jang-mi handed over.

His tone was a little mocking.

“Uh… yes.”

Jaewon nodded, thinking something was wrong.

“You cleaned both. Ha.”

Kang-hyuk laughed as he shrugged on his surgical gown.

“Ah… was that wrong?”

“No. There’s nothing wrong with it.”

“Phew.”

“But there’s no reason for it, either. That’s the kind of pointless work someone who doesn’t know why does.”

“Mm…”

Jaewon looked displeased, but couldn’t protest.

He was racking his brain for any knowledge about forearm grafts, but nothing came up.

“Stop using that useless brain. Let’s look at the heart.”

Kang-hyuk tapped the back of Jaewon’s hand, pointing at the heart.

He didn’t touch his shoulder or back, since those were considered contaminated zones, even with a gown.

“Yes, Professor.”

“But the cleaning job is perfect. Not a single [RBC] left.”
(T/N: [RBC, Red Blood Cell] refers to erythrocytes, which transport oxygen in the blood. Here, it implies there’s no blood left contaminating the area.)

“That wasn’t me…”

“Ah, maybe it was Gangster’s skill. She does a good job sweeping up.”

“Professor…”

Jang-mi gave Kang-hyuk a conflicted look, not sure if he was complimenting or insulting her.

She kept glancing at the new nurse in the corner.

The new nurse looked a bit better now.

Even with a burst heart, the OR atmosphere was calm.

She didn’t know that Kang-hyuk and Jaewon had already done the hard part in the helicopter.

“Anyway, I can see it clearly now. But…”

Kang-hyuk nodded and inspected the [right ventricle].

(T/N: [Right ventricle] is one of the heart’s four chambers; it pumps blood to the lungs for oxygenation.)

Blood returning from the body flows into the [right atrium], which sends it to the [right ventricle].

(T/N: [Right atrium] is the upper chamber of the heart that receives deoxygenated blood from the body.)

The [right ventricle] pumps blood to the lungs.

In other words, it supplies oxygen to the blood.

No need to say how crucial this part is.

“It’s really shredded…”

Jaewon shook his head.

He couldn’t believe the patient made it here alive.

If not for Kang-hyuk, the patient would have died in the helicopter.

“Exactly. The other areas… maybe we could use them. But here, no way.”

Kang-hyuk spun his finger over the middle of the [right ventricle].

Thḭʂ 𝗰h𝒶p𝓉𝑒r 𝚒𝐬 p𝑜𝘴ƚє𝘥 b𝕪 Ҡı𝑡єȠ𝑜𝓋℮𝓁

Jaewon could tell from experience—it was hopeless, just as Kang-hyuk said.

Some might call it unscientific, but Kang-hyuk was always right.

“So what do we do? The area’s huge. Should we cover it with [fascia lata]?”

“[Fascia lata]? What are you talking about?”

“Huh?”

Jaewon was convinced [fascia lata] was the answer.

That’s why Kang-hyuk’s reaction shocked him.

“Is this the [left ventricle]? Do you think it’s just a lump of muscle?”

“Uh… no…”

There’s a big structural difference between a chamber that pumps blood to the lungs and one that pumps to the whole body.

The [left ventricle] is much thicker and more muscular.

The [right ventricle] injury had destroyed most of what little muscle it had.

It wasn’t enough to just patch the hole like before.

“Then what do we do? There’s not enough muscle…”

Jaewon glanced at the [left ventricle], wondering if they could graft muscle from there.

“Are you insane?”

Of course, it was a crazy idea.

Jaewon mumbled, dejected after being shot down.

“So what are you going to do, then? Do you even have a plan?”

“Have you ever seen me come into surgery without a plan? I already saw the burst [right ventricle] in the helicopter.”

“Oh… then…?”

“Of course I have a plan.”

Jaewon and Jang-mi stared at Kang-hyuk in unison.

He glanced back at them, then pointed at the patient’s leg.

“Right there. That hunk of muscle. See? Hm?”

Kang-hyuk, assuming it was all disinfected, looked down and frowned.

Only about 230 degrees of the leg was cleaned, not 365.

That was enough to take the [fascia lata], but not muscle.

If the incision exceeded the cleaned area, it would be a problem.

“This idiot. You missed a spot? You call this clean?”

“I thought you only needed [fascia lata]…”

“Did I say [fascia lata]?”

“No…”

“Ugh…”

Kang-hyuk shook his head and sighed in resignation.

“Well… it’s not the [left ventricle], so we don’t need that much muscle.”

“Th-then… how…”

“What do you mean how? You work within the area you cleaned. Scalpel!”