Good Samaritan
A voice message from a real Good Samaritan, who provided direct mouth to mouth CPR to an old lady at a local bingo hall the night before, announced the start of my day. She tried to bring back an old lady collapsed right in front of her prior to the arrival of paramedics. She was waiting for further direction since she was exposed to the blood of the lady. It must have been a long tough night for her: she might have been eagerly crying for emotional support, or she might have tossed about in bed wondering the unknown risks of getting infected if there was any.
While worshiping her braveness, I telecontacted her that she needed to see a doctor at emergency room as soon as possible with a brief explanation on her rights as a Good Samaritan. She thanked for my help and hanged up on me abruptly, the click sound cut off my most sincerely wishes to her. My mind momentarily drifted away from the blind tone in my head set to an incident that occurred years ago. A regret, to be more precise, deeply imbeds in my mind for years that re-surfaces vividly every time that something is life and death related.
There was a later afternoon, warm and humid, heavy clouds overcastted the sky and made the city grey and depressed. Fully loaded buses were taking people of all kind of walks to where they wanted to be for the end of the day during the rush hour.
A guy at his later 50’s was getting off at a bus station same time with me where I catched a local bus to my suburban neighborhood. He tumbled off the bus until he got on the bus station; he pushed his right shoulder against the door frame of the glass shelter attempting to regain his stability. He was so pale, or even gray-bluish, heavily sweating; his breath was quick and shallow. I tentatively asked him: “Are you ok?” He tried very hard to catch his breath without any eye contact, his eyebrows were tightened in a knot, then he muttered “I’m … ok.” in a fainted voice. With his wobbly gates, he managed to stretch out his left arm to a two-step-away bench inside the shelter, while his left palm was rubbing on his chest as if he could suppress his discomfort or pain underneath his chest wall. He sank himself onto the bench leaning on the glass wall, where provided him the best support ever.
I had a gut feeling that something was wrong. But everything happened so quickly within a few seconds, when I was still trying to figure out what was going on with him, my bus was coming. “I am ok.” had been rewinded and replayed in my mind that echoed with my assumption that he might have been ok if I left. I took it as a granted permission, and reassured myself nothing was serious, you could go now. When I got on my bus, I felt so empty for not knowing how to help him appropriately which left me a long lasting feeling of guilt and regret.
Now, I know, he was experiencing heart attack, the well-known silent killer in the world. How I wish I could have been knowledgeable enough to recognize the symptoms of heart attack. How I wish I could’ve called 911 regardless.
The idea of becoming a Good Samaritan myself is still far-fetched in my professional or personal life. Yet, my duty is to promote the early recognition and early interventions for people in an emergency situation.
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