A Surgeon Who Uses Martial Arts [EN]: Chapter 138

Eureka (3)

The Surgeon Who Uses Martial Arts – Episode 138

The Surgeon Who Uses Martial Arts 138

Chapter 25: Eureka (3)

“Hey. Why are you acting so distracted?”

Kyung-soo frowned and stared at Jun-hoo.

Jun-hoo had been pacing around the on-call room like a hamster on a wheel.

“Huh? What did you say?”

“I asked why you’re doing that.”

“I have a problem. One I can’t tell others about.”

“That’s rare. I didn’t think you had any worries.”

In Kyung-soo’s eyes, Jun-hoo was a know-it-all.

Entering orders.

Essential procedures for a first-year resident.

Assisting in surgeries.

Managing patients and their families, and so on.

Frankly, there was nothing Jun-hoo couldn’t do.

And once he did something, he showed skills superior to those of a two or three-year resident.

So, seeing Jun-hoo at a loss was more surprising and unfamiliar than worrying.

“What problem can’t you talk about? Is it a woman problem?”

“I wish it were.”

“Then is it a patient or family issue again?”

Jun-hoo nodded instead of answering, and Kyung-soo shook his head.

You fool.

Always making trouble for yourself.

“It seems like you have a story you can’t tell. Whatever it is, do it moderately. If it’s beyond your capabilities, let it go.”

“What if the patient is in danger then?”

“It can’t be helped. You can’t do what you can’t do.”

“Still, I want to do it.”

Jun-hoo continued with a determined expression.

“Doctors grow by caring for their patients.”

“Ugh. That famous doctor disease is incurable. Terminal. Untreatable.”

“I know.”

Jun-hoo dismissed Kyung-soo’s comment and continued pacing the on-call room.

Brain tumor in a glioblastoma patient.

He had been agonizing for 30 minutes over how to inform others about the cancer near the hippocampus [a region of the brain primarily associated with memory] that wasn’t visible on the scans.

He couldn’t find a clear answer.

Was this how the hat maker felt when he couldn’t tell the king that he had donkey ears? [Reference to a Korean folktale]

Was this how the Little Mermaid felt when she couldn’t speak at all?

Jun-hoo felt a tightness in his chest, as if he had swallowed gravel.

The truth known only to him was too much to bear.

Jun-hoo’s gaze suddenly turned to the wall clock.

There was an hour and a half left.

Time was closely chasing Jun-hoo.

If I were the surgeon, there wouldn’t be any problem…

I could have approached the hippocampus area naturally, saying I would check for any metastasized cancer…

Jun-hoo regretted the current situation.

The hardship he was experiencing was due to being a resident.

Drrrrk.

Just then, the door opened, and Hee-joon, a third-year resident, entered the on-call room.

“Jun-hoo, what are you doing?”

Hee-joon also commented after seeing Jun-hoo wandering around the on-call room.

“I have something to think about. But, senior, I have a question.”

“What is it?”

“Is there a way to detect cancer tumors smaller than 1mm?”

“MRI should cover it to some extent, right? These days, they can catch tumors around 1mm.”

“If the tumor is smaller than that, it wouldn’t show up on an MRI?”

“That’s right. Modern medicine has its limits. But why are you suddenly asking that?”

“I was just curious.”

Jun-hoo mumbled vaguely.

Anyway, the important thing was that Jun-hoo had discovered a tumor that the tests hadn’t found.

Listening to Hee-joon, it seemed the tumor was quite small…

But he couldn’t let his guard down.

Malignant tumors can grow in the blink of an eye.

“Is it your first time assisting with a glioblastoma, so you’re nervous?”

“Maybe… I think so.”

“It’s okay. Professor Jang has a firm grasp on brain tumor surgeries.”

But he doesn’t remove tumors that don’t show up on tests.

…Jun-hoo barely managed to hold back from saying that.

“You’re not your usual self. You don’t need to worry too much.”

Hee-joon lightly patted Jun-hoo’s shoulder and left.

Around that time, Jun-hoo also ended his wandering.

And he sat down and began frantically searching medical journal sites.

The search terms were glioblastoma, temporal lobe, and hippocampus.

* * *

Ward 603.

Young-hoon was staring blankly at his father.

Was it because he had his hair cut before the surgery?

His father without hair looked much weaker and more pitiful than before.

“Father.”

His father didn’t respond to Young-hoon’s call.

He was lying down with his eyes closed, as quiet as a mouse.

He didn’t even seem to have the strength to answer.

Young-hoon gently held his father’s thin, bony hand.

In Young-hoon’s memory, his father had always been a strong person.

Even when the three of them were moving from one small room to another.

Even when his mother collapsed from a stroke.

Even when Young-hoon couldn’t find a job for a long time and was wandering around.

His father had always been a reliable pillar of the family.

No, to be more precise, his father was a shield.

Protecting the family from the world.

But even that father couldn’t withstand the passing of time.

As he got older.

He had more minor illnesses.

Suddenly, a year ago, his speech became slurred, and his motor skills hit rock bottom.

I should have paid more attention then.

I was such a fool.

Such an idiot.

Young-hoon bit his lip tightly and blamed himself.

A year ago, Young-hoon simply assumed that his father had dementia.

And that complacency led to the current irreversible result.

His father didn’t have dementia.

He had a brain tumor.

If I had paid more attention then.

If I had gone to a few more hospitals.

At least I could have prevented it from getting to this point…

Young-hoon wanted to punch his past self, who had been insensitive to his father.

“Honey. I’m here.”

He turned his head at the familiar voice.

During the time he was in despair.

His wife was already standing beside Young-hoon.

“I’m sorry. For making you suffer alone again.”

Young-hoon said to his wife, who had gone to the OB/GYN alone.

“It’s okay. You must be having a harder time than me. How’s your father?”

“He can’t seem to gather his strength because he’s fasting. He was only bright during the morning rounds, and he’s been like this ever since.”

“I see.”

His wife held Young-hoon’s hand tightly and said.

“The surgery will go well. There are skilled doctors, you know. Your father will definitely see our baby and live a long and healthy life.”

“…It has to be.”

Young-hoon drew strength from his wife’s warm comfort.

His father had always said that everyone gets one miracle in their life.

And there was no better day than today for that miracle to unfold.

If God exists.

Please help me.

No, please help my father.

I will use the miracle that should come to me for my father.

* * *

Thump. Thump.

Jun-hoo was heading to the operating room 20 minutes earlier than the surgery time.

Preparations for assisting with the glioblastoma patient were complete.

First, he got rid of his fatigue with Qi circulation [a concept in traditional Chinese medicine involving the flow of vital energy].

His body was light.

His concentration was at its peak.

He had also memorized the information needed for the assist perfectly.

He had also prepared a countermeasure for the most troublesome problem.

A plan on how to explain the tumor near the hippocampus, which was not visible on the scans, to the surgeon.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was the best he could do.

Jun-hoo entered the operating room.

First, he scrubbed at the sink (pre-operative disinfection).

With the help of a nurse, he put on surgical gloves, a mask, a surgical cap, and a surgical gown.

“Doctor, is something wrong? You look determined today?”

The nurse asked Jun-hoo.

“I think today’s surgery won’t be easy.”

“Ah… Is it because it’s a glioblastoma surgery? Still, Professor Jang will do well.”

“What kind of person is Professor Jang?”

“He’s a gentle and soft person. He’s not the type to scold the staff.”

“That’s good news.”

Jun-hoo was relieved.

If the surgeon was authoritarian.

His words wouldn’t be taken seriously.

“But Professor Jang has one drawback.”

“What is it?”

“He asks the assistants a lot of questions during surgery. When they can’t answer, he gently tells them to study more.”

“…”

“It won’t be an exception even if you’re a first-year resident.”

“That’s okay. I’ve studied enough.”

Jun-hoo answered confidently and found operating room number 5.

Zhiiiiiing.

Cold disinfectant gas was sprayed from the ceiling.

The patient was lying on the operating table under the shadowless lamp after being exposed to the gas.

Jun-hoo approached the operating table and looked down at the patient.

-I only want to live… until I see my grandson and granddaughter.

The patient’s stuttering words were clear in his ears.

Jun-hoo wanted to fulfill the patient’s simple wish.

“Senior, why did you come so early?”

Eun-ha, who was in the surgical supply room, pulled a dressing cart towards him.

“To help you.”

“You don’t have to. The surgery time is already long. You should get some rest.”

“I get restless when I’m still.”

Jun-hoo chuckled and helped Eun-ha prepare for the surgery.

Connecting the patient monitoring device.

Connecting the central venous catheter.

Connecting the brain navigation system.

Preparing various treatment tools, etc., were completed in the blink of an eye.

Since his intern days.

Jun-hoo was skilled at preparing for surgery.

“Wow, it’s over like lightning because Senior is helping.”

“Then don’t look back and go like lightning. It’s a busy time.”

“You’re the only one who cares about me. Thank you and have a good one.”

“Okay. You too, Eun-ha.”

Not long after Eun-ha left, Hee-joon entered the operating room.

“Jun-hoo. I have good news.”

“Yes? What good news?”

“The professor is coming to the operating room a little late.”

“Why is that good news?”

Jun-hoo tilted his head and asked.

Hee-joon’s way of speaking was difficult to understand.

“He’s not coming too late, but he’s about 20 minutes late.”

“…”

“I was thinking of entrusting you with the craniotomy [surgical opening of the skull] in the meantime. You like pre-learning.”

“That’s definitely good news. Thank you for always taking care of me, Senior.”

Jun-hoo conveyed his honest feelings.

Since becoming a resident, Hee-joon had been steadily taking care of Jun-hoo.

He told him the direction of study.

He also trusted Jun-hoo with somewhat difficult treatments and medical care.

Usually, a senior would say that Jun-hoo was showing off.

He would have scolded him for stepping out of line.

“If you grow quickly, I’ll be comfortable later, right? Let’s finish before the professor comes.”

“Yes. Senior.”

Jun-hoo stood in the surgeon’s seat.

A scrub nurse next to Jun-hoo.

Hee-joon took his place opposite Jun-hoo.

Sssseuk.

Sssseuk.

Hee-joon disinfected the patient’s head and covered it with a surgical drape.

Meanwhile, Jun-hoo had created it with his basic martial art.

He pictured the craniotomy that the professors had performed in his head.

The scene was vividly reproduced as if he had a video playing in front of him.

Jun-hoo had no confidence.

He had no confidence in failing the craniotomy.

“Number 10.”

“Yes. Doctor.”

Jun-hoo held the scalpel handed over by the scrub nurse. The scalpel, illuminated by the shadowless lamp, sparkled like a jewel.

The scalpel fit perfectly in Jun-hoo’s hand.

The feel was good.

Now, the scalpel was more familiar than the sword he used in the martial world.

“You’re still fearless.”

“It’s the same principle as a swimmer not being afraid of water.”

“Alright, then do well.”

Since the glioblastoma was located in the temporal lobe, Jun-hoo had to incise the patient’s side of the head.

Without a moment’s hesitation.

Jun-hoo drew the scalpel horizontally.

Incorporating the principle of Sawind Sewoo, one of the basic moves of the Cheongwoon Sword Technique.

Sawind Sewoo is a type of horizontal slash.

It was characterized by precise and clean swordsmanship.

It was perfect for incising the skin.

Or for incising flat areas without curves.

Only Jun-hoo in modern times could apply swordsmanship to incision or excision.

Surgical sound.

Following Jun-hoo’s gentle gesture.

A straight line was drawn following Jun-hoo’s scalpel.

The length of the incision was 4 centimeters, neither more nor less.

The line of the incision was horizontal, as if drawn with a ruler.

The incision penetrated exactly to the scalp and periosteum [membrane that covers the outer surface of all bones], There was no deviation.

“Wow, that’s crazy. Looking at the incision alone, it seems like you’re doing better than the professor?”

“I’ve never seen an incision like this before.”

Hee-joon and the scrub nurse praised Jun-hoo, but Jun-hoo was not excited.

Jun-hoo’s eyes and gestures.

Were calmer than ever.

Until the surgery is successful.

I will never let my guard down.

Jun-hoo was already in the form of his martial arts days, when he had the nickname “Immaculate Sword.”

It was the first time this had happened while living a modern life.

A Surgeon Who Uses Martial Arts [EN]

A Surgeon Who Uses Martial Arts [EN]

무공 쓰는 외과 의사
Status: Completed Author: Native Language: Korean
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[English Translation] Haunted by vivid dreams of a life lived in a world of martial arts, Seo Jun-hoo finds himself at a crossroads. Is he the martial arts master of his dreams, or the high school student of the present day? The answer is both. He discovers he can cultivate internal energy even in the modern world, a power he never imagined possible. Torn between two lives, Seo Jun-hoo seeks a path that blends his extraordinary abilities with a desire to help others. Leaving the sword behind, he chooses the scalpel, aiming to save lives instead of taking them. Witness the rise of a doctor unlike any other, a healer wielding the power of martial arts. Could this be the destiny he was always meant for?

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