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This morning I was at my favourite restaurant, Wannabee’s, with an “at risk” youth…
A man about my age sitting in the next table went to the bathroom, and emerged when Karen, Wannabee’s owner saw that he was in distress. She came over and asked if was ok. No reply. She yelled out if anyone knew the Heimlich maneuver, and although it’s been 25 years since I had “some” minor training, I got up and did what I hoped was right, over and over and over again. He pushed my arms away, I guess I was hurting him, and I thought it cleared. He sat back down, but still in distress. Another Wannabee’s guest did the same thing as I did, but with the same result. Then a Dr. came rushing in from a clinic next door. She was just a little thing, and could barely do the maneuver on him, but tried. I said that I would take over, as she was barely holding him. She tried looking into his mouth while I was doing it. She thought she saw “something”.
Karen said the ambulance was on the way, and was very, very distressed… I kept on doing the Heimlich, but, I felt, the Dr. was no real help at all, as she seemed at a loss of what to do. But then again, I guess she isn’t emergency trained…
Suddenly his 6’ frame started weighing on me and his knees gave out and he and I were going down. I exclaimed to the Dr. “I’m losing him! What do I do, I can’t hold him up!” She said to lie him down, which to me, made no sense if he’s actually choking, so I said, “I’m going to let him sit on the floor, I don’t want to lay him down.”
Just as his bum slowly touched the floor, the fire paramedics rushed in and took over.
He tried to open his mouth, which was locked tight, and no way was he getting it open, he started CPR. The others hooked him up to a machine and then exclaimed…
“He’s asytole…” (asystole “known as flatline” is a state of no cardiac electrical activity, hence no contractions of the myocardium and no cardiac output or blood flow. Asystole is one of the conditions that may be used for a medical practitioner to certify clinical or legal death. Out of hospital survival rates (even with emergency intervention) are less than 2 percent.)
They shot 2 shots of epinephrine into him, while one did CPR continually. Then an ambulance showed up and 8 professionals were there. Nothing seemed to work. CPR for 4 minutes, check for vital signs, still flat-lined, then another 4 minutes, more epinephrine, continual CPR, still flat-lined.
I prayed...
I think it was about 10 minutes; maybe it reached 12, when suddenly they got a heartbeat. They saved his life, I hope…
It was amazing to watch these well-trained professionals doing their stuff to this poor guy, with no name. Karen told them he lived in a nearby group home. They put him on a stretcher, and away they went. I told the guys how incredible they all were and that they had saved a life. They looked at me… with a “Duh!, This is what we do…” kind of look, and I guess they are right, this is what they do. I guess to these true professionals, it was just another day…
Not to me it wasn’t… Not to me.
I’m still shaking…
