As soon as I
pulled up to the building last Friday I knew there was a problem. Emergency
vehicles surrounded the Rec Center where I work. It was a trick to find a parking space that
didn’t block one of the trucks.
We have
sheriff’s cars out front every now and then. Teenagers acting up. Someone
trying to sneak in a back door. A random stolen bicycle. But we never have
multiple ambulances, fire trucks and sheriff cars.
There was an
energy in the building as I walked through the front door. Where usually I am
greeted only by the front desk person I am there to replace, that day many of
my managers were lingering about, mixed in with deputies and paramedics.
Not wanting
to be problem, but knowing I’d need to know the situation if I were taking over
the front desk, I finally got some information out of one of my bosses.
On Fridays
we have many older people fill up our basketball gym, playing pickleball. It’s
a popular sport here in Colorado and they rarely have low attendance. One of
the players left his game and went to the sidelines, holding his chest.
Several
friends came over and asked if he were okay. He assured them that he was. Said this
happens every now and then. He even declined a chair to sit down in.
Then a
friend who is a retired nurse walked over, took his hand, looked in his face,
and yelled out, “Someone call 911!”
She saw what
many of us would not see – the distinct signs of a heart that is failing.
The deputy
who works at the high school next door to our building happened to be driving
by when the call came in. Before our front desk guy had finished his call to
911, she was running through the front door.
When she got
up to the basketball gym, the man had just collapsed.
Every person
who works for our large Parks and Rec Department is required to take First
Aid/CPR classes, every six months. From the director down to the part time
janitors. Every single person. And this is why.
The first
person to reach the fallen man was our head maintenance guy. Right behind him
was a lifeguard, who heard the call from the pool. Together they started CPR.
For what seemed like hours, but in reality was only a few minutes, they pumped
away, keeping the blood flowing, until paramedics finally arrived. There was
some delay as they figured out a way to get the ambulance to the back of the
building, to avoid a large stair case inside. Maintenance Guy and Lifeguard
kept pumping away.
Then the
professionals took over. The other pickleball players surrounded them, making a
stunned circle of witnesses.
I sometimes
grumble under my breath about yet another CPR class. It always feels like we
just had them, and suddenly it’s time again. Kneeling on the floor is always
uncomfortable and pretending to wrap someone’s head in gauze is only fun when
you’re a four year old playing doctor. Then I hear the stats - that a large
percentage of people who receive CPR don’t make it anyway. It’s easy to feel
like ‘why bother?’
I was cured
of that attitude last Friday. Later in the evening we got an update. The man
had a fully blocked artery. He was receiving treatment and would go home in the
morning. Go home. Back to his life with his family. Able to celebrate Mother’s
Day with his wife on Sunday. Because a couple of people knew how to pump that
oxygenated blood to his heart, when his heart was not able.
As you’d
expect, the staff was pretty shaken up the rest of the afternoon. The young
lifeguard was found wandering the hallway, after she handed her job over to the
paramedics. One of my supervisors asked her where she was going. “Back to the
pool. My shift isn’t over.”
She was a
bit dazed, not sure what to do next. After you’ve basically saved another human’s
life, it’s hard to transition back to regular life. The supervisor gave her
immediate permission to go home, for a paid afternoon off. She definitely earned
it.
There was a
meeting with all of the people who had been present, who had helped, who might
need some emotional support. Our maintenance guy was as dazed as the lifeguard
had been. When I was able to call him that evening, to tell him the incredible
outcome, he just kept saying, “Thank you. Thank you for calling. That’s
amazing. Thank you for calling.”
It was a
humbling afternoon. I’ve spoken to many of the pickleball players who witnessed
the incident. Most of them said, “It was scary. We all knew it could have been us.” One of those things that makes
you consider mortality, and good health, and surrounding yourself with the
people you love.
That notice
will come around again soon. Times and dates for the next staff CPR classes
will be emailed out to each department. I’ll have to double check my family
calendar and find a time that fits on one of my days off. But this time around
I won’t grumble
This time
around I know that if I’m told that 90% of the people who receive CPR die
anyway, I won’t think, ‘why bother?’ I’ll think of that man - that husband, dad,
grandpa, and brother, who is alive today because someone knew CPR. He was
spared brain damage, paralysis and death.
The ten percent is why we take the
class. I’ll never forget that.
