Life Saver ✓

Chapter 8 - Kim Taehyung

"Doctor, he's going to be fine, isn't he?" Rolling my eyes for the hundredth time today and sighing as I clench the stethoscope in my hand, I furiously glare at the guardian of the patient and try to force a smile.

I miserably fail. I just want to take her wrinkly neck and squeeze until I feel her spine cracking from the force. Her unnecessary wailing is driving me mad.

"Can you please, for the love of all that is holy, shut your god damn mouth? He's only mildly dehydrated, there's nothing you need to worry about and I've already told you that." I hiss the words through my gritted teeth, controlling the urge to snap the crying woman's neck.

Instead of being a good mother to the patient who's in his late twenties and obviously still very dependent on her, she's bawling her eyes out because he forgot to drink water, resulting in him losing his consciousness.

Apparently, playing games was more important.

"Dr Kim, can you please take a look at that patient over there? She's complaining about acute abdominal pains." One of the nurses shyly approaches me, gnawing at her bottom lip as if it's her first food source after months of starvation.

My lip curls up in disgust at her flushed cheeks, but I nod nevertheless. "I hope you've learnt the procedure regarding dehydrated patients in your medical school," I hum mockingly, watching as her eyes widen in disbelief.

A devious smirk adorns my face as I head towards the female patient, leaving the nurse to deal with the idiotic mother and my abusive remark. I observe the young woman as I approach her.

She's lying on her side with her knees pressed against her chest and her arms tightly wrapped around her shins. Her facial features are monstrously contorted, showing pure agony as shallow breaths escape her dry lips.

It looks like something is tearing her apart from the inside.

"You have to lie down properly, I need to take a look at your abdomen." I lean closer to her, placing my hand on her hip and pushing down lightly, encouraging her to turn and rest on her back.

Her whole body is trembling as beads of sweat slowly trickle down her neck. She whines as I gently lift her shirt to her chest and reveal the soft skin of her stomach, my gaze lingering on the intricate tattoo adorning her left hip.

The meaning of the tattoo is immediately clear to anyone lucky enough to see it. "Oh, so you like grim reapers, right?" Smiling at her ambiguously, I see her nod as a response before she squeezes her eyes shut and winces from the pain.

I wonder who was the first idiot who thought of a grim reaper as a skeleton in a black cloak that carries a ginormous scythe around the Earth in search of dying beings. Well, I guess it's too late to try and change that culture now.

Tracing my fingers down her abdomen, I notice there are no apparent signs of swelling or blunt trauma, which is a very good sign. "Great. Can you tell me where you feel the pain?"

Her crimson red hair sticks to her forehead as her eyes flutter open, her restless gaze scanning my expression. "Right side." She barely manages to stutter out.

"What kind of pain is it, sharp-"

"For fuck's sake, it feels like knives are constantly jabbing into me for the past few hours!" Her scream cuts me off, but I remain unphased. It's not unexpected for patients to be rude in the ER department.

Remaining completely silent, I apply slight pressure on the midgut structures in her periumbilical region and watch her reaction. She flinches underneath my touch, which means that I'm close to the pain source.