Moment of Mortality

Sometimes it is not the actual event or tragedy that has happened or been averted that has the most effect on you. It is the period of assessment after when you can put it all in perspective. What if it were you? What if no one was there to help? Would others have the skills or knowledge to help? How would it feel to be that helpless? Would your eyes have the same look if you departed even for a moment?

Last night was as normal as any others. The usual rabble at the bar, the same early shift challenge of trying to look busy or endure the same conversations with the same regulars. I greeted one of our regulars as he came through the door. He was entertaining a couple of out of town clients with his wife and child in tow. I had a couple of things going but still had time to hang out and watch Abbot and Costello run into each other again and break two glasses. Then one of my colleagues came rushing to the front exasperated and sputtering, "Call..oh my god..the phone..911..guy on the floor...um call someone." Four people heading away from the table and me heading towards.

Sure enough there was a guy on the floor. Unresponsive, eyes open, a buddy of his next to him. Training and experience takes over and you go through the motions. Clear the area, clear the airway, raise the feet, loosen restrictive clothing,check for breath, nothing, check for pulse, radial, axillary, carotid, nothing, chest stimulation, nada, look at friend and say "lets go", watch him fumble with nose and mouth, help him open jaw, "pinch the nose and hit him as hard as you can with two breaths," measure up to avoid breaking xyphoid process, interlace fingers, get ready to start compression, leaning back to start, and then he shudders back to life. The odd fuh-fuh-fuh sound like an old engine turning over after a long rest. Sounds oddly reminiscent of another situation when a person took their last breath. Start assessment. Name, location, do you know where you are, do you know what happened to you, can you squeeze my fingers, check for dilation, take pulse, cover with table cloths to keep warm and ward off shock, give stats to friend on the phone with 911 to relay to paramedics, for some odd reason tell co-worker to check on table 23 and send the food on 27, ask wife's name, reassure that he is ok now, wait till the pros arrive and step back from the scene, answer a few questions.




Twenty minutes later feel a wave of emotion and fear punch you in the stomach and shake you to the core.




That is not the first time I have been in that situation and oddly I don't feel like it will be the last. But I have never been so...I don't know...affected. I had a personal stake in this. I wanted everything to go right and for this to turn out fine. I remember seeing the ring on his finger and thinking about his wife. I recalled a comment he made to the child of the host as I walked by earlier about his son. Deb and I have been talking about the rash of 40 year old men dying of heart attacks and leaving their family grieve and cope. I did not want that to happen. I did not want to think of his family and say that we tried.

I thought of my own family. I though of the philly cheesesteak sandwich I had last week and wondered where in my arteries it was deposited. I thought about the odd palpitations I was having the other night that I dismissed as unaddressed stress or too much caffeine. I remembered the difference in his eyes from the moment I knelt over him compared to when he was wheeled out. No animation, distant, quiet, clouded, kinda 2 dimensional, flat, gone. I know there is a difference between heart stoppage and death. Where the brain ceases to function on the residual oxygen left in the blood stream. However, when this process starts, it is like turning a light out in a windowless room. Not instant black but a quick fading away. I was scared and moved. This man did not deserve that fate and neither does my family.

It is true that having children change your out look. I have never had more to loose. Or rather, I have never had some much to live for. I have so many people counting on me. I would never want them to have to figure out how to do it on their own. My actions have never been so deliberate. I do what I do every day for others. My needs come 6th in our family. Behind the wife and all 4 kids. The dog's head is my seat on our totem pole. I am sure everyone has had a moment like this. I would hope that if the roles were reversed that other person would be as adamant.

I don't hug my kids any harder or consciously remember to tell them I love the before we part. I have always done that. I'm not upping my life insurance or throwing out all the precessed meats. I'm merely reminded of the things I have and how much I need, love, and cherish them.