ER Code Red: Let the Rookie Take the Lead

A rapid knock on the door jerked me awake from my dream.

I glanced at the clock on the wall. It was exactly 9:00 pm. There were still 30 minutes before the emergency patient was due to arrive.

In my last life, it was around this time when my apprentice, Scarlett York, had asked me to cover her shift while she ran to the restroom.

She ended up staying there for over half an hour, leaving me to handle the patient myself.

The patient had already gone into cardiac arrest by the time he arrived. I worked for over 30 minutes doing CPR, pumping until my arms gave out, but I managed to pull him back from the brink.

Resuscitation was grueling work. After the surgery, I collapsed at the ER door, too exhausted to speak, my throat dry and hoarse.

My body was trembling uncontrollably from low blood sugar, so I spent seven bucks on a bottle of glucose to stabilize myself.

Once the patient woke up, he started complaining about chest pain. After learning that I'd cracked four of his ribs during the rescue, he went into a rage, demanding compensation.

In medical disputes, doctors rarely saw a fair outcome. Most were forced to grin and bear it, swallowing the injustice in silence.

The hospital made a settlement. But not only did they dock my pay, they used my glucose purchase against me, saying it would disqualify me from any future promotions.

After all of this, Scarlett immediately kicked me while I was down.

"Even though I'm Dr. Garrison's apprentice, as a member of this hospital, I can't go against my conscience and cover for him. He steals from the department every day after work—everything from masks to nebulizers—to resell them for personal gain."

Her shrill accusations from my last life kept looping in my mind.

In the end, when the patient stabbed me to death in the hospital corridor, Scarlett simply stood at a distance, coldly watching without lifting a finger to help.

But I couldn't figure out what I had done to make her hate me so much.

Why would she frame me in front of the hospital board and watch me die without offering any help?

Scarlett had been knocking for a while. When I didn't respond, she called out, "Dr. Garrison, may I come in?"

I snapped back to reality and replied, "Come in."

Knowing what she was going to say, I beat her to it. "Scarlett, you're just in time. Watch the office for me. My stomach is acting up. I need to use the restroom."

I blurted out everything she was about to say. She was instantly frozen in place, her expression turning sour.

"Why are you just standing there? Come on in and sit down."

I motioned for her to come into the office and watched as she sat down like a robot. Only then did I grab a pack of tissues and slip away to the restroom.

As expected, 30 minutes later, the emergency bell rang.

Scarlett called me frantically. When I didn't answer, she sent a text. "Dr. Garrison, you need to come to the ER. There's a patient in need of urgent rescue."