A Surgeon Who Uses Martial Arts [EN]: Chapter 137

The Surgeon Who Uses Martial Arts-137

The Surgeon Who Uses Martial Arts 137

Chapter 25: Eureka (2)

“Assist with a brain tumor? Which patient is it?”

“A glioblastoma patient. You like difficult and challenging surgeries, right? Just so you know, this is a 7-hour surgery.”

Jun-hoo’s eyes sparkled at that moment.

Hee-jun was right.

It was Jun-hoo’s peculiar trait to crave surgeries that were difficult and challenging.

Because he gained so much from them.

“I’m all for it, but I thought Kyung-soo was scheduled to assist.”

“I already talked to Kyung-soo about it. All I need is your okay.”

“If you’re asking for my answer… it’s definitely okay.”

Jun-hoo grinned.

Glioblastoma was the final boss among brain tumors, ranging from stages 1 to 4.

In simple terms, it was stage 4, the terminal stage.

Jun-hoo thought that after assisting with a glioblastoma, other brain tumors would feel relatively easy.

“I knew it. I already feel reassured knowing you’re assisting, Jun-hoo.”

“If the surgery gets long, it’s better for me, with my good stamina, to assist, right? You’re saying that after calculating everything, right, senior?”

“Of course, of course.”

“I won’t let you or the professor down.”

“Alright. Take good care of your condition.”

Hee-jun patted Jun-hoo’s shoulder and left the on-call room.

* * *

The next day, morning.

With 20 minutes left until the conference.

Jun-hoo took nutritional supplements and two packets of red ginseng.

He moved to the staff-only restroom.

Sitting cross-legged on the closed toilet seat.

He began circulating his energy.

With both hands gathered neatly at his lower abdomen, he focused on his breathing.

Deeply inhaling.

Deeply exhaling.

With each breath, natural energy circulated through his eight extraordinary meridians [energy pathways in traditional Chinese medicine].

In the process, the ingested nutrients spread throughout his body.

The effects of the nutritional supplements and red ginseng were immediate.

The dulling concentration sharpened.

The heavy body lightened.

New internal energy accumulated in his lower abdomen.

The internal energy already accumulated in his lower abdomen.

Rotated in concentric circles, and the healing power created by it relieved Jun-hoo’s fatigue.

After finishing his energy circulation, Jun-hoo left the restroom.

His steps were light.

With just 15 minutes of energy circulation, Jun-hoo recovered all his condition.

He gained a condition that others could only obtain by sleeping for at least 5-6 hours.

Usually, mistakes by medical staff occur due to carelessness.

And carelessness occurs due to decreased concentration and stamina from excessive workload.

But Jun-hoo didn’t have that problem.

Energy circulation and nutritional supplements.

These two combinations made Jun-hoo an iron man.

Snap.

Snap.

Lightly loosening his neck, Jun-hoo moved to the conference room.

A glioblastoma patient’s surgery…

How will the surgery be performed?

Are there any unique characteristics of glioblastoma surgery?

If the brain swells or severe bleeding occurs during the surgery.

How will the surgeon overcome it?

Finally, what can I learn today?

Various questions branching out in his head.

Jun-hoo was already looking forward to the afternoon.

* * *

The neurosurgery morning conference ended.

The staff stood in the hallway in neat rows, like soldiers in the military.

They were preparing for the morning rounds.

“Did you hear from the senior?”

Jun-hoo spoke to Kyung-soo, who was standing next to him.

“That I was replaced as the glioblastoma surgery assistant?”

“Yeah. Did you hear?”

“I asked just in case. So you don’t forget and accidentally enter the wrong operating room.”

“That won’t happen. I’m not an idiot. But you’re buying trouble again this time.”

Kyung-soo said with his arms crossed.

Kyung-soo couldn’t understand Jun-hoo, who was willing to go into a brain tumor surgery that would take nearly 7 hours.

If one is human.

One tends to prefer easy and simple tasks over difficult and challenging ones.

But Jun-hoo was different.

He tended to seek out difficult tasks.

He tended to treat other people’s problems as his own.

In short, he was living a tiring life.

This was the opposite of Kyung-soo’s personality.

Kyung-soo wanted to avoid all avoidable difficulties.

Suffering in youth is something you buy? [A Korean saying that suggests enduring hardship in youth leads to future success.]

Don’t be ridiculous.

In a capitalist society, would you buy suffering if you didn’t have to?

Would you do that if you were sane?

…That’s what Kyung-soo thought.

In that sense, Jun-hoo wasn’t sane.

“If it’s meaningless suffering, you don’t gain anything, but if it’s meaningful suffering, you gain something.”

“Then what’s the meaning of switching surgery assistants? What do you gain?”

“There’s not enough time to explain everything. The important thing is that I’ve been living like this. And I’ll continue to live like this.”

“Who’s going to stop you from living as you please?”

Kyung-soo shrugged with a nonchalant expression.

The chief came out of the conference room.

The full-scale rounds began.

While the chief went around the wards, talking to patients and guardians one by one.

Kyung-soo noted the orders in the notebook he was holding.

These were the orders that needed to be entered as soon as the rounds were over.

Unlike Kyung-soo, Jun-hoo didn’t write down the orders. He seemed confident in his memory.

That monster.

He’s good at things done with his hands.

He’s good at things done with his head.

And his stamina is monstrous, so he’s fine even after being on duty.

As always, Jun-hoo was outside of Kyung-soo’s common sense.

“How are you feeling, patient?”

“Ah… I’m still… okay.”

Patient Kim Cheol-soon answered hesitantly to the chief’s question.

The dark shadow on the patient’s face looked particularly black today.

Patient Kim Cheol-soon was in his 60s.

He was scheduled for glioblastoma removal surgery this afternoon.

In other words, he was the patient for whom Kyung-soo and Jun-hoo had switched assistants.

“Doctor, I… want to live longer… until I see my grandson and granddaughter…”

The patient didn’t hide his attachment to life.

Even though he had heard that the average survival rate for glioblastoma was one year.

Even if he were alive when his grandson or granddaughter was born.

There was a high probability that the patient wouldn’t see them.

Because his condition would have worsened by then.

He might be unconscious.

In fact, Kyung-soo’s reason for switching surgery assistants with Jun-hoo wasn’t just because the surgery was difficult.

It was also because he didn’t want to operate on a patient whose death seemed certain.

What would you learn from a surgery with a high probability of failure?

“We’ll do our best. Please trust us.”

“…Yes.”

The conversation wasn’t long.

The staff immediately moved to the next ward.

Suddenly, Kyung-soo looked at Jun-hoo.

Jun-hoo had a serious face.

You idiot.

You foolish guy.

Will a patient who’s going to die come back to life just because you’re worried?

Kyung-soo found Jun-hoo, who was worrying about useless things, amusing.

After the rounds.

Kyung-soo followed 2nd year resident Min-kyung to the operating room. He helped Min-kyung perform a tracheostomy.

He had no intention of learning procedures by being a show-off like Jun-hoo.

Not too high, not too low.

Just go in the middle.

That was Kyung-soo’s motto.

* * *

That morning.

Jun-hoo pushed the dressing cart and entered a ward.

He stopped abruptly at the window seat.

Opposite Jun-hoo were patient Kim Cheol-soon and his guardian.

I don’t want anything else.

I just want to live until my pregnant daughter-in-law gives birth to my grandson or granddaughter.

If possible, until their first birthday.

Knowing the patient’s sad story, Jun-hoo’s heart was heavy as he looked at the patient.

It felt like a stone was placed on his chest.

He wasn’t asking for longevity.

The patient only wanted 1-2 years of remaining life.

I hope I can fulfill that humble dream.

Forcibly hiding his bitter heart.

Jun-hoo parted his lips.

“Hello. I’m here to cut the patient’s hair. If there’s hair, there’s a risk of infection after surgery.”

“Yes. Doctor.”

The guardian answered, but the patient couldn’t answer.

As the brain tumor grew.

The patient often fell into a state of drowsiness.

On top of that, he had to fast because of the surgery, so he would be even more exhausted.

“Did the patient take his medicine?”

“Yes. I took it about an hour ago. But what kind of medicine is that? I heard that you’re supposed to fast before surgery.”

“It’s a drug called a fluorescent contrast agent. In simple terms, it’s a drug that makes the tumor easier to see.”

The drug the guardian asked about was called 5-ALA.

When you take the drug, the brain tumor looks red and normal cells look blue.

This allows the surgeon to clearly identify the boundary between normal cells and the brain tumor and only resect the brain tumor.

Snip.

Snip.

Jun-hoo began to cut the patient’s hair with scissors.

Thin white hair.

It wasn’t difficult to cut white hair that had no strength in the hair follicles.

Come to think of it, I only couldn’t do it for this patient.

Jun-hoo nodded, putting down the scissors.

He hadn’t used his internal energy tumor imaging technique, which he invented yesterday, only on this patient.

It was because the patient had an MRI scan late last night.

And Jun-hoo was tired from the last examination because he had used a lot of internal energy.

“Doctor. I’m going to go to the bathroom.”

“Yes. Go ahead.”

The guardian who happened to leave the seat.

Jun-hoo placed his hand on the patient’s head without hesitation.

The internal energy drawn from the lower abdomen seeped into the scalp.

Passing through the hard skull.

It spread to the vicinity of the temporal lobe where the glioblastoma was located.

Is it because it’s the worst brain tumor?

The suction power was different from the brain tumors I experienced yesterday.

The suction power was rough and violent.

It was comparable to a high-speed vacuum cleaner.

Thanks to that, Jun-hoo had to be very careful.

It was difficult to offer internal energy as food for the brain tumor.

Pushing back the brain tumor’s suction with a half-determined resolution.

Jun-hoo barely finished the search.

As a result of checking with internal energy.

The patient’s brain tumor was concentrated in the vicinity of the temporal lobe.

The suction power was strongest there.

Suction power was also felt slightly in the area near the hippocampus.

Click.

Click.

Jun-hoo, who returned to the on-call room, examined the patient’s MRI image taken last night.

But it was at that very moment.

His spine was chilling as if he had been struck by lightning.

The hair stood on end.

Goosebumps appeared on his forearms.

Ha… This shouldn’t be happening…

Jun-hoo rubbed his eyes and looked at the MRI image again and again, but it wasn’t there.

The tumor located near the hippocampus wasn’t in the MRI image!

The tumor that Jun-hoo had clearly felt with internal energy imaging!

Damn it… Why of all times…

Jun-hoo bit his lip without realizing it.

CT, MRI, MRA, PET, etc.

There were many tests to diagnose brain tumors, but these tests were not perfect.

Superficial cancers of 5mm or less.

Invasive cancers of 3mm or less.

Unignited cancers of 1mm or less, etc. could not be detected depending on the type of test.

There are still limitations to the tests.

But Jun-hoo’s internal energy tumor imaging was different.

Because he could detect the tumor’s unique suction power with internal energy, he could diagnose the tumor more accurately.

At this rate, I can’t remove the tumor near the hippocampus.

There’s no way they’ll remove a tumor that doesn’t show up on the test.

If the tumor located in the hippocampus is left untreated.

The tumor will recur.

Then the patient’s average survival rate will fall below 6 months instead of 12 months.

The problem was that no one knew about the tumor located near the hippocampus.

Only Jun-hoo knew.

A bigger and more fatal problem.

That was that no one would believe Jun-hoo even if he said there was a tumor in the hippocampus.

Would the surgeon believe the MRI test results?

Would they believe the words of Jun-hoo, who had just become a resident?

The answer was already determined.

If Jun-hoo even mentioned internal energy, he would be treated like a madman.

It was truly a dilemma.

Even the surgery time was only 2 hours away.

A sense of crisis washed over him.

Anxiety overwhelmed him.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Jun-hoo began to tap the desk table with his right index finger.

It was a habit that came out when he was nervous.

It’s a relief that you found out even now, right?

Think desperately, Jun-hoo.

There’s definitely an answer.

Jun-hoo soothed and comforted himself. The only thing he could rely on now was himself.