A Surgeon Who Uses Martial Arts [EN]: Chapter 422

Chapter 82: Emergency (3)

30 minutes prior, going back in time.

Seo Giyeol, the Chief of the Operations and Intelligence Department at the Army Headquarters, was sitting in the hospital cafe.

Across from him sat Shin Haeseok, his direct subordinate.

The cafe was bustling and noisy, like a marketplace, filled with soldiers, officers, and visiting family members.

The cafe had a unique, antique interior.

If it weren’t for the coffee on the table, one might mistake it for a barbecue restaurant.

“Your condition doesn’t seem to be good these days,” Haeseok said, looking concerned.

“Shouldn’t you take special care of yourself?”

“What kind of care can I take when it comes to promotions? I need to make a decision within at least a month…” Giyeol frowned and took a sip of his coffee.

The coffee was more bitter than soju [a Korean distilled beverage].

Giyeol was at a crossroads in his life.

It was the right time for him to be promoted from Brigadier General to Major General, but he couldn’t figure out whose coattails to grab.

He felt like visiting a famous shaman [a spiritual healer or diviner].

“That’s true, but… you’ve looked increasingly haggard lately. And you have a cold sore on your lip, don’t you?”

“Do I really look that bad to you?”

“Yes,” Haeseok answered without hesitation.

Giyeol chuckled.

“How long has it been since your last health checkup?”

“Last spring, I think? It’s about time I got one.”

“You have high blood pressure and diabetes, shouldn’t you get one soon?”

“Your nagging is top-notch. You sound like my wife.”

“Well, I may not say it, but don’t I see your face more often than your wife does?”

Giyeol didn’t deny it because it was true.

He was also grateful that Haeseok was concerned about his health.

“Actually, I’ve already made an appointment for a health checkup at one of the Big Five hospitals [the top five hospitals in South Korea]. But they said I can’t get it for another three months.”

“Then wouldn’t it be better to get it at Dosu Hospital? Checkups at Dosu Hospital should be much faster.”

“No. Not military hospitals.”

Seo Giyeol had a great distrust of military hospitals.

It wasn’t like he had bad memories of military hospitals, but that’s how he felt.

Hospitals run with the nation’s money versus hospitals run with private capital.

Which one would care more about the patient?

No matter how he thought about it, the latter was the clear winner.

“I’ve taken care of my business, so let’s get going,” Giyeol said, getting up first.

His junior from the Korea Military Academy, three classes below him, was hospitalized at Dosu Hospital, so he had come to visit him briefly, and there was no reason to stay any longer.

“Ugh…”

But Giyeol’s legs faltered momentarily.

His head spun for a moment.

His arms and legs lost strength, and nausea surged like a tidal wave.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about it.”

“Why don’t you get a checkup while you’re at Dosu Hospital?”

“Who in the world gets a checkup for stress? I’m really okay.”

Giyeol waved his hand as if to say he was fine.

He shook off the dizziness and started walking.

But as he walked, he strangely felt one leg stiff. The left corner of his mouth felt numb and didn’t move well.

And then, right at that moment!

“Excuse me.”

A young Colonel blocked Giyeol’s path.

Giyeol and Haeseok stared at Junhoo with a ‘what do you want’ expression.

“I’m the company commander of the medical company of the regiment. Brigadier General Lim Cheolwoo, please come to the emergency room with me now.”

“Do you know me?” Giyeol asked back with an unpleasant expression.

The name Seo Junhoo was embroidered on the combat uniform the Colonel was wearing.

“No. I don’t.”

“To ask a stranger to go to the emergency room out of the blue, you must be out of your mind.”

“I may not know the Brigadier General, but I know well enough that the Brigadier General’s condition is not good. You’ll regret ignoring my words.”

“Even if a military doctor has no concept of rank, he’s still spouting nonsense in front of a Brigadier General,” Haeseok said, gesturing roughly at Junhoo.

“Hey, you. Do you think a one-star is a joke? Chief, I’ll take care of this guy…”

However, Haeseok had no choice but to widen his eyes as he turned to look at Giyeol.

He even opened his mouth like a fool, shocked.

While the right corner of Giyeol’s mouth was raised, the left corner was drooping down.

The asymmetry of the corners of his mouth created a grotesque smile.

He looked like a villain in a movie.

That’s because Haeseok had been walking on Giyeol’s right side and hadn’t properly seen the crooked left corner of his mouth.

“Ch… Chief?”

“Why? Is my smile that strange?”

“It’s… seriously strange.”

“I think I have a slight paralysis on the left side of my face…” Giyeol soon lost his words.

He was shocked to see his face reflected in the phone screen.

“Do you still think I’m talking nonsense?” Junhoo, who had been silent, went behind Giyeol.

“I’ll catch you if you fall, so try walking on tiptoes.”

Was it because the initiative had completely passed to Junhoo?

Giyeol obediently followed Junhoo’s instructions.

Haeseok, who had been furious, also became quiet.

“Oh… oh no!”

Giyeol staggered like a drunkard after only a few steps.

Thanks to Junhoo putting his arms between Giyeol’s armpits to support him, he barely avoided falling.

“Are you still going to leave like this?”

* * *

Emergency room of Korea Dosu Hospital.

Junhoo was sitting in the waiting room, and Haeseok was sitting next to Junhoo.

Giyeol had been moved to the examination room for an MRI scan and was not there.

“How did you know that the Chief was in critical condition?” Haeseok began to use polite language to Junhoo.

“There are typical symptoms of cerebral infarction [stroke]. Facial paralysis and the inability to maintain body balance.”

“What is your major, by any chance?”

“Neurosurgery.”

“Ah…” Haeseok nodded as if he understood.

The conversation ended there.

Because that was all they had in common to bind them together.

Junhoo leaned back on the bench and stared at the opposite wall.

The habits from Murim [a world of martial arts] were of great help in discovering Giyeol’s problem.

In Murim, Junhoo had developed his observational skills.

To win in bloody battles, one had to analyze the enemy’s every move.

Identifying whether they were left-handed or right-handed at first glance, reading the opponent’s eyes and feet first, and so on.

Junhoo’s observation was broad.

Moreover, he saw the trees but did not forget the forest.

Once, he was ambushed by an assassin in a crowded square.

At that point, he had already reached the realm of Hwagyeong [a high level of martial arts mastery], so he was able to counterattack the assassin without any problems and take his life on the spot.

Perhaps thanks to the accumulation of such experiences, when he was walking around the hospital lobby earlier, Junhoo unconsciously scanned the people around him one by one, quickly grasping their characteristics.

Giyeol was caught in the process.

The unnatural corner of his mouth and the slight limp in one leg were early signs of a stroke.

‘Well, nothing serious will happen,’ Junhoo muttered inwardly.

10 minutes ago from now.

So, just before the neurosurgeon at Dosu Hospital was about to see him, Junhoo subtly placed his hand on Giyeol’s head and used Internal Energy Cranial Angiography [a technique using internal energy to visualize blood vessels in the brain].

There was a 60 percent stenosis [narrowing] in Giyeol’s MCA (middle cerebral artery).

If left untreated, it would have led to a cerebral infarction and an ultra-emergency situation, but thanks to Junhoo’s timely discovery, a major disaster could be avoided.

Giyeol’s symptoms were so clear.

There was no need to have a tiring argument with the neurosurgeon at Dosu Hospital.

Normally, they would have had to argue about whether to take an MRI or not.

“Family member, please come this way,” a nurse approached the waiting room and said.

Junhoo and Haeseok followed the nurse.

Giyeol, who had changed into a patient gown, was lying on a bed located on the left side of the emergency room.

Minsuk from the Armed Forces Capital Hospital’s neurosurgery department was standing next to him.

“The MRI scan revealed stenosis, that is, narrowing, in the cerebral artery.”

“Does he need surgery right away?” Haeseok asked, making a fuss.

“Not to that extent. At this level, it can be sufficiently treated with a drug called ‘thrombolytic agent’.”

“…”

“However, you will have to be hospitalized in the emergency room for about a day.”

Minsuk, having finished his explanation, looked at Junhoo, as if trying to get confirmation that ‘I’m right, aren’t I?’

Junhoo nodded with a smile.

Minsuk knew Junhoo.

No, if a neurosurgeon didn’t know Junhoo, they would be suspected of being a spy.

Junhoo had mastered all seven subspecialties related to neurosurgery in just seven years at the world’s top Mayo Clinic.

In the meantime, he was recognized for his overwhelming skills and received the title of Grand Master.

From the perspective of external achievements at this point in time, it was no exaggeration to say that Junhoo was the best neurosurgeon in the world.

“I’m glad he doesn’t need surgery.”

“Phew. I’m relieved. Chief,” Giyeol and Haeseok each said a word.

“But why does a stroke happen?”

“In the patient’s case, high blood pressure and diabetes should be seen as the cause. Stress is also one of the factors that worsens stroke.”

Minsuk glanced at Junhoo again and slowly continued, “First, we will administer the thrombolytic agent and monitor the situation.”

“Thank you. Doctor.”

“You should thank Junhoo, not me. If the discovery was delayed, something big would have happened.”

“Thank you. Military doctor. I will never forget today’s favor.”

“Thank you, Doctor.”

“You’re welcome.”

Junhoo scratched his cheek awkwardly with a smile. From Junhoo’s point of view, he hadn’t done anything particularly great.

He had just found the patient early with his keen eyesight.

Even though Junhoo said it was okay, Giyeol kept stubbornly asking for his phone number.

So Junhoo gave him his phone number, unable to win.

Military connections were no less important than doctor connections.

You never knew when you might receive help.

* * *

“Doctor, can I talk to you for a moment?” As the situation ended, Minsuk called Junhoo.

Junhoo followed Minsuk out of the emergency room.

“I’m actually a fan of yours. Can I get your autograph and take a picture with you?”

“Yes. Sure.”

He felt like he had suddenly become a celebrity.

Junhoo signed the paper that Minsuk handed him and took a picture with him.

“How is the neurosurgery department at Dosu Hospital run?” Junhoo asked one of the things he was curious about.

Getting straight to the point from the beginning was something only amateurs did.

“There are about six neurosurgeons, including me.”

As expected, the situation was not good.

There were more than 10 neurosurgeons at Shinwon University Hospital, excluding residents.

The number of residents must also be terribly poor.

“With only six people, can the department run properly?” Junhoo clicked his tongue and asked.

“It’s tough, but surprisingly okay. Because it’s a military hospital with a bad image, not many officers or soldiers try to get surgery,” Minsuk replied with a bitter smile.

“Excuse me, but what is your experience, Minsuk?”

“I got my specialist license and came straight to the Armed Forces Capital Hospital. I’m the youngest.”

“I see.”

Junhoo paused for a moment before continuing.

This was the important part.

“Actually, there’s something else I was most curious about. That’s…”