RendeR
10-10-2007, 08:58 AM
When I served in the US Navy during the first Gulf war (1991) I had to deal with death and understanding my own mortality. It was an ugly ugly life lesson to learn and a horrible way to learn it. I thought I had managed to get a grip on my feelings about that situation over the years.
Yesterday (October 9th, 2007) While I was at work, we had a medical emergency. One of our associate professors has a severe heart attack and collapsed in the classroom next door to my office.
When my supervisor and I got to him (the students came to get help) John was a shade of purple the likes I have never seen in human skin before. He was spasming like a fish held out of the water for too long and there was a cut on the side of his head where he hit the wall as he fell.
My supervisor, Chet, tried to get him settled in a better position to try and do CPR. He noticed the lack of breathing, or severe difficulty and moved John's tongue to open the airway better. I then supported his head and neck to open the airway as far as possible as we waited for the security and rescue people to get to the scene.
It seemed to take forever, I noticed that john's skin was turning a more normal shade of pink after we helped get his airway open, he was definitely breathing and the staff nurse found a weak pulse. We knew he was alive but he was almost completely unresponsive.. I say almost because I noticed that whenever I spoke directly to John, encouraging him to keep breathing and "hang in there" he reacted with a hard gasping breath. So i held his head and I talked to him in a strong loud voice, basically telling him not to give up and that he'd be alright.
After what seemed an eternity the paramedics arrived and finally took over treating him. His heartbeat was erratic and they never got a steady rhythm going before transporting him to the hospital.
So it was a bit of a rough day yesterday. Thankfully, I did hear that John was alive and in critical condition in the ICU. They got his heart back into a strong regular rhythm and from what I was told it looks like he's going to pull through.
So i am relieved for John and his family, he is an elderly man and some co-workers have mentioned that he's looked a bit haggard lately, so perhaps this has been building a bit.
Mortality is a topic that sets our brains buzzing, because after all these millenia, we still don't understand it. Its the final mystery. No matter our technology, or science, our religions, everything...we still just don't know. What happens when we die? What is it like to die?
Its a disturbing feeling to hold a man and talk to him, knowing that his life could simply cease at any moment, right there in your fingertips. To wonder if the last thing he ever knows is the sound of your voice cajoling him into one more gasp of existence.
I thought I got a grip on how I felt about all this, but it seems all this has done is dredge up a lot of repressed anxiety.
Meh, I'm entirely too melodramatic.
chow.
Yesterday (October 9th, 2007) While I was at work, we had a medical emergency. One of our associate professors has a severe heart attack and collapsed in the classroom next door to my office.
When my supervisor and I got to him (the students came to get help) John was a shade of purple the likes I have never seen in human skin before. He was spasming like a fish held out of the water for too long and there was a cut on the side of his head where he hit the wall as he fell.
My supervisor, Chet, tried to get him settled in a better position to try and do CPR. He noticed the lack of breathing, or severe difficulty and moved John's tongue to open the airway better. I then supported his head and neck to open the airway as far as possible as we waited for the security and rescue people to get to the scene.
It seemed to take forever, I noticed that john's skin was turning a more normal shade of pink after we helped get his airway open, he was definitely breathing and the staff nurse found a weak pulse. We knew he was alive but he was almost completely unresponsive.. I say almost because I noticed that whenever I spoke directly to John, encouraging him to keep breathing and "hang in there" he reacted with a hard gasping breath. So i held his head and I talked to him in a strong loud voice, basically telling him not to give up and that he'd be alright.
After what seemed an eternity the paramedics arrived and finally took over treating him. His heartbeat was erratic and they never got a steady rhythm going before transporting him to the hospital.
So it was a bit of a rough day yesterday. Thankfully, I did hear that John was alive and in critical condition in the ICU. They got his heart back into a strong regular rhythm and from what I was told it looks like he's going to pull through.
So i am relieved for John and his family, he is an elderly man and some co-workers have mentioned that he's looked a bit haggard lately, so perhaps this has been building a bit.
Mortality is a topic that sets our brains buzzing, because after all these millenia, we still don't understand it. Its the final mystery. No matter our technology, or science, our religions, everything...we still just don't know. What happens when we die? What is it like to die?
Its a disturbing feeling to hold a man and talk to him, knowing that his life could simply cease at any moment, right there in your fingertips. To wonder if the last thing he ever knows is the sound of your voice cajoling him into one more gasp of existence.
I thought I got a grip on how I felt about all this, but it seems all this has done is dredge up a lot of repressed anxiety.
Meh, I'm entirely too melodramatic.
chow.