Trying to be...
2003-07-23 - 8:28 a.m.
Calm....just remain calm.
So last night, I'm sitting in my office and my office manager had just said goodnight. Seconds later, he bursts back in and says "Carolyn, quick, I think some man is having a stroke!"
Oh shit! I think. I'm the director of my program. I AM the head cheese. I have no choice, get involved, handle it. I'm not a doctor. I don't even play one on tv....
So I run out to the lobby, and find a man (one I had only met moments earlier...not one of my clients, but rather a stranger who had come in to inquire about our services. I knew nothing more about him than his name) convulsing on the floor. The lobby is already zoo-like, and the security guard on the phone with 911.
I call out "Everyone just clear away from here...make some room. J....J....J....Its Carolyn from (my agency), its ok, help is on the way". I call out to my staff (the office manager and the one other staff person I have) to help clear the area and direct traffic. J is having a seizure in front of the doorway in/out of the building, and its a building full of blind people. Obviously, an unknown commotion and redirection is scary when you can't figure out what's going on, so we had a lot of "what's happening" and "is he ok".
So I begin with the running commentary, both to calm J (who I have no idea if he can hear me or not) and the bystanders (I was going to say on-lookers, which is funny in that none of them could see). "Ok, J. You are having a seizure, you are going to be ok. The ambulance is on its way. We just need to keep him safe until help arrives. Keep this area clear. Its ok. J, help is on its way. You are having a seizure. Please everyone say over to your left. Anyone who doesn't have to be in the area, please clear the area. J, you are doing fine. We are staying with you to make sure you are safe"
That was my outside voice.
My inside voice was saying "shit. I have no idea what is going on. What if he dies. What the fuck do you do for a seizure? Everyone keeps asking me what is going on, how the fuck do I know? I'm a fucking social worker for fuck's sake....where the fuck is the ambulance? how come its taking so long?"
all the while my outside voice continued...
He stopped seizing and came too. I was right close to his head, and kept talking to him "J, you just had a seizure. You are ok. The ambulance is on its way. Have you had seizure's before? (yes). Do you take any medication? (gurgle, slur, non-answer). Can you hear me (yes)? Does this happen alot (gurgle, slur)? You are ok. The ambulance is on its way. Do you have a hospital in the area? (answers the nearby hospital). Great, I will make sure they take you there. Are you ok? J, I don't know your last name, tell me your last name (and his response, which was hysterical was "there'll be time for all that later")."
He asked to be rolled to his side, and I called out to my office manager "help me roll him over". J sounded like he knew what to do, so I followed his lead (what the fuck do I know about these things, my inside voice continued). I continued to talk to him until finally, a lifetime later, the medics arrive.
Holy shit. All in a days work, right?
The funny thing is that afterwards, one of my co-workers said "wow, you were amazing. Did you have some special training in this?" She is the only one I admitted the truth to "no. In fact, I was scared shitless and didn't have any idea what to do. I kept remembering bits and pieces of my CPR training...but most of all, I realized that in an emergency, someone has to take charge and just do it. As long as that person sounds confident and in control, everyone feels better about what is happening"
Because lets be honest. I mean, really truly honest. When an emergency happens, and you are nearby saying "what should I do? Can I help?" there is nothing more reassuring than someone else saying "We've got everything under control here, the best thing you can do is just keep the area clear". Right?
--------------------------------------------
This brought me back to my two other moments of crisis, and I can't stop thinking about them.
One was last summer, when that client had a heart attack in our lobby. I found him, because his guide dog was wildly running around the lobby, which they never, ever do, but he was trying to alert someone to what was happening. I had to tell his wife, and I remained with her throughout the evening until her family arrived. That was intense, and is an entry in and of itself.
The other was September 12, 2001. My birthday. My birthday spent volunteering down at Chelsea Piers, waiting to be called to duty. Alternating between "I'm a mental health professional, what can I do to help" and "please don't ask me to do anything I can't handle". Helping families file missing persons reports, in the early hours/days when there was still hope that their loved one was John or Jane Doe in some mythical hospital.
And later that evening, in what should have been my birthday celebration at Gramercy Tavern, traipsing around Ground Zero with police escorts so we could provide counseling to the First Responder teams. Thinking "I have to do this" and "oh shit, I can't do this" and everything in between.
Some day I will have to write about that too.....
