141-Did That Just Happen? Yes, Yes It Did...

WARNING:  This blog includes details from a car accident victim and may not be suitable for those who have had traumatic experiences.  I don’t want to overstate my case, but do want you to know that I am still processing the situation below and present a very raw version of thought processes, concerns, judgements, etc… so don’t judge too harshly if anything feels insensitive.

Michigan gray filled the early morning stretch of road ahead of me as I made my way south from Flint toward my dentist’s office.  My mind was pushing aside the thoughts of my doctor cutting my gum and drilling a big ol’ hole in my jawbone, then torquing in a titanium screw that would someday secure a new tooth.  Thoughts of the ‘joy-of-injections’ that rattled around in my brain, scrambled with the worship music from the van speakers, and the sound of my tires on the wet, cold pavement were suddenly interrupted by a red truck.  There wasn’t anything alarming about the red truck apart from their hazard lights flicking on and a quick maneuver into the left lane to pull over median-side of the expressway.  As I looked to assess, I saw what the red truck driver saw ahead of me:  a crumpled, silver SUV facing the wrong way on the opposite side of the expressway—two people out of the vehicle standing in the cold, and one person on the ground.  

Without hesitation I quickly checked my driver-side mirror, and simultaneously with a head check, veered into the left lane and off onto the shoulder with my hazard lights joining the other two cars who had recently pulled over.  Reaching into my glove box I grabbed a makeshift first aid kit with gloves, and some gauze for wound care.  Mid run from my van to the scene of the accident I cataloged my thoughts… I left 15 minutes earlier than needed for my surgery, so I think I have time to see if I can help.  The snow isn’t too deep so my shoes shouldn’t get full and freeze my feet while the doctor drills on my jaw.  There is definitely one man lying on his back and appears to be unconscious.  ABCDE.  “I’m a first responder, what happened?”  There was one man actively trying CPR who responded that he tried giving the patient 2 breaths and seemed to finish compressions.  “I’ll do compressions,” is all I got out then knelt down in the snow and began to glove-up and do what I’ve been trained to do.  If you aren’t breaking ribs you are not going to be effective, I recalled from all my classes.  First press with shoulders over my locked arms and I could hear and feel the crunch.  One, two, three, four, five, spouted quickly from my lips before I paused at 30 and readjusted my hands to the proper position to pinpoint the pressure.  During the second set I questioned whether breaths were necessary at this point.  The gentleman who already gave breaths volunteered to give 2 more and I gladly let him.

Half-heartedly feeling for a pulse, I was questioning what I should really be doing.  There was a lady barking orders for the police to be called despite 911 already receiving a call, to which I wondered why this was important.  While my fingers were on the man’s neck, I wasn’t focused enough to really feel for a pulse, trying to assess for breath if any.  “I have a pulse of 80” announced another woman holding the patient’s wrist, but I was skeptical to be quite honest.  As an EMT emerged on the scene, I stood up and took a few steps back and looked around for the first time.  Now, there were possibly a dozen people standing, watching, waiting, hoping, I don’t know.  The woman anxious about the police, was now ordering some bystanders to grab a hold of the stretcher to get it across the drainage the median was providing for the cold water and snow.  I hesitated.  My feet would really be cold if I stepped through that.  I could stay and help carry this guy to the ambulance if needed.  I’ll do what I have to do, I suppose.  “Did you see what happened?” a policeman directed at a bystander.  Getting a no, he simply said, “I need you to get into your car and leave, please.”  Somewhat relieved to see the gawking party being split up, I awaited my turn.  Making eye contact I received the same question, I responded, 

“I arrived after the accident and did compressions,” unsure if he’d want me to stay for any added information.

“Thank you for your efforts.  You may leave, God bless you” unexpectedly reported back from the officer, which came as a sigh of relief.  Peeling my gloves off and tossing them into the van trash, I sat for just a second then started my car and merged back into life. 

Did that just happen?  Yes, yes it did.  Why am I so calm right now?  Did I do everything I could do?  Were my compressions deep enough to be effective?  I mean, I only heard the crack one time and maybe that was from the guy before me.  God, how much do I care about this stranger laying on the cold earth, completely undignified; half naked and possibly dead?  My emotions were saying… not much.  If it were a teenager would I have done more?  Do I lack all compassion, because I’m feeling pretty nonchalant about the whole thing; should I even share what happened?  I called Jen to process a bit.  I share this with you because it’s real, I don’t exactly look or feel like a hero, I can tell you that much.  Over the weekend thinking about the events from the accident, I came to realize something.  I stopped.  And I wasn’t the only one who stopped either.  Compassion isn’t just a feeling you get; it’s an action.  Many may have driven by and being struck by the serous nature of the event felt deep sympathy and compassion for the victim of this accident (who was later pronounced deceased at the hospital) and kept on driving.  

Jesus shares some great wisdom with his disciples, recorded by Matthew in the book of Matthew, chapter 25, verse 44-45: “Then they [those on His left, opposite the righteous] also will answer saying, ‘Lord, when did we see You hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not minister to You?’  Then He will answer them, saying, ‘Assuredly, I say to you, inasmuch as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to Me.’”  So, my takeaway is this: if you are in doubt about your motives, intentions, feelings, or maybe you just don’t even think about those things (guys, myself included); stop and look at the fruit in your life.  What are you doing with your time and energy?  Can life simply be the sum of our actions?  I know there is more to it than that, but in my case this weekend, I had to walk away with the idea that ‘compassion is action’.  I am glad that I stopped, sad for the man and his family and the grief that they are facing, and am pushed to continue to explore my thoughts and emotions that come with life every day.  Today is a good day, but tomorrow is not promised to anyone.

-Matt