Chapter 6
A pregnant woman had collapsed.
For a moment, every sound seemed to disappear.
Gain could no longer hear the sizzling oil or the bubbling fish-cake broth.
Only one word struck her ears.
Pregnant.
The market that had been bustling just moments ago seemed to freeze.
Oh my God. Another emergency in the market?
Im Gain immediately turned around.
"I'm a doctor! Where is she?!"
The young woman selling fruit juice shouted back.
"O-over there, I think!"
Gain ran without thinking.
It was instinct.
"Is it here?"
Not far from the market entrance, in front of a chili mill filled with the sharp smell of pepper, a woman was lying on her side.
Her belly was huge.
She was almost full-term.
Thirty-six weeks? Thirty-seven?
The pregnant woman's face was pale, and the backs of her hands were covered in sweat.
A young man had just rushed over to her.
"I'm a nursing student. She has no pulse. I'll start chest compressions! Can someone help with rescue breathing?!"
When Gain arrived, the student was about to lay the woman flat on the ground and begin CPR.
"Don't!"
Gain's sharp voice cut through the air.
"If you start compressions like that, the uterus can press on the vena cava and stop blood from returning to the heart!"
The pregnant woman's face was pale.
Her lips were turning blue.
Her damp hands trembled slightly.
Her eyelids fluttered before slowly falling shut.
Her heavily pregnant belly rose and fell weakly.
"I-I was going to do what the textbook says."
The student spoke with trembling hands.
"She's pregnant."
Gain grabbed his wrist and redirected him.
"Once a pregnancy is past twenty weeks, the weight of the uterus can block blood from returning to the heart. You need to tilt her left or move the uterus to the side."
The student's pupils widened.
Fear and confusion filled his face.
"Th-then what do I..."
"Keep her lying flat, but push the uterus toward her left side. Yes. That's right. Like that."
The people in the market watched silently.
The sharp smell of red pepper powder filled the air.
"Do I do the compressions the same way?"
The nursing student's voice shook.
Gain was already on her knees beside the patient.
"No. Move your hands a little higher. Because the uterus has pushed everything upward, normal positioning won't be as effective. At least five centimeters deep and more than one hundred compressions per minute.¹ I'll handle the breathing."
Gain leaned close to the woman's face.
There was no mask.
She brought her face near the patient's lips.
She couldn't feel even the faintest breath.
Gain frowned.
"Start. Begin compressions right now!"
The nursing student immediately began.
His hands were shaking, but Gain checked his posture.
He's doing it properly.
And what I need to do now is...
"What are you doing?! Why hasn't anyone called 119?!"
Someone shouted while moving closer.
As Gain looked around, she spotted a familiar face.
It was the elderly woman who had ridden in the ambulance with Grandma Malseon a few days ago.
The grandmother who sold bracken.
Gain met her eyes and shouted.
"Please call 119. Tell them the patient is around thirty-six to thirty-eight weeks pregnant."
"All right, all right. I'll call."
The grandmother pulled out her phone and dialed 119.
Meanwhile, the nursing student followed Gain's instructions.
He pushed the woman's uterus toward the left while pressing the center of the sternum.
One hundred to one hundred twenty compressions per minute.
At least five centimeters deep.
Allow full recoil.
Press.
Again.
Again.
I have to save this woman.
And the baby inside her.
Then someone in the crowd shouted.
"If you press her like that, won't you kill the baby?!"
"You're crushing the baby! Stop!"
"What if the baby can't breathe?!"
Shouts filled with fear and misunderstanding came one after another.
"Are you even really a doctor? You're way too pretty to be a doctor! Did you even go to medical school?!"
Someone shouted rudely.
Gain answered coldly.
"I am a doctor."
The crowd surrounding the patient was becoming excited.
To them, this was even more dramatic than a morning soap opera.
"Is that woman really a doctor? She's too pretty."
Another person spoke in an accusatory tone.
Some people were shouting angrily.
Others looked ready to step in and stop her.
Im Gain suddenly raised her head and shouted firmly.
"The mother's heart has to beat first for the baby to survive! The mother has to breathe before the baby can breathe!"
The noisy crowd began talking over one another again.
"I called 119!"
A clear voice rang out.
Then another voice shouted.
"She's an OB-GYN doctor! Why are you all yelling instead of trusting her?!"
The bracken-selling grandmother had removed her rubber gloves and was slapping them against the wooden platform beside her.
"This is the doctor I told you about. She's the real doctor who's opening an OB-GYN clinic here. Keep quiet!"
Once the grandmother raised her voice, the surrounding people finally quieted down.
Following Gain's instructions, the nursing student moved his hands slightly higher on the sternum.
"Move your hands a little higher. At least five centimeters deep. Over one hundred compressions per minute. Don't stop."
Im Gain brought her ear close to the pregnant woman's pale face.
Still no breathing.
Her gaze remained calm and cold.
"Keep compressing."
The number of compressions passed two hundred.
But the woman's face remained pale.
There was no monitor.
No defibrillator.
No medication.
On the floor of the market, surrounded by the smell of crushed chili peppers and murmuring people, Gain kept going.
What about my divine power?
