Fall 2003 - CPR
Author: Ken Homer Issue: 2025-09-03
Fall 2003 - CPR
by Ken Homer
It was a dazzling Autumn afternoon The sun warmed the air and bathed the redwoods in a golden-hued light I had to run some errands for my boss who was leaving for Europe the next day It was so lovely I took the long way round I had the sunroof and windows open Life During Wartime blasting on my stereo
As the chorus of “This ain’t no party this ain’t no disco This ain’t no fooling around” came on a woman appeared in the road and flagged me to a stop
Do you know how to do CPR? Yes, I do–This was soon to be tested I had not had a CPR training since Boot Camp over 25 years earlier— Help! I think this woman needs CPR! She gestured and I saw a woman laying in the middle of the street
I turned off my engine ran to her side I took her pulse and a line I had heard so often on TV medical shows ran through my mind: Pulse rapid and thready I never knew what that meant until my fingers transmitted the message to me
I looked more carefully at her She was maybe mid-60s slightly overweight with a boxy plain face Her skin was pale and waxy Her eyes were open but blank and unseeing Her pupils hugely dilated I didn’t need a medical degree to know she was in bad shape
I asked the woman who flagged me over What’s your name? Kathy, was her reply Please call 911 and give them our location I took the prone woman’s hand and I tried to speak with as much reassurance and confidence as I could muster: Stay with us We’re going to see through this–hang on Just then she stopped breathing
Kathy we’re going to have to perform CPR I’ll do the breaths and you do the compressions–can you do that? She looked panicked–I don’t know how Don’t worry I’ll show you–it’s simple Kneel beside her–you will need to use your body weight not your arms or you will quickly become exhausted She got into position–Good now put your left hand right here where her ribs meet her sternum then place your right hand on top of your left and interlace your fingers like this–I demonstrated Now bending forward from your waist with your arms straight press down 2 inches to push air out of her lungs then release You need to count each compression When you get to 15, l’ll give her three breaths while you rest—is that clear? Kathy looked stricken but nodded It’ll be okay Kathy, we’ll do this together!
Ready? Begin! Kathy counted to fifteen I opened the unconscious woman's mouth placed my mouth over hers and exhaled Immediately I felt my breath flow not into Her lungs but into my right ear–Damnit! I had totally forgotten to check her mouth For obstacles and to pinch her nose shut I did those two things and tried again
Her chest rose–I gave her another breath Okay Kathy, start the compressions again There was a cracking noise–Kathy froze It's okay you cracked a rib just keep going She did 15 more and I did the breaths
About ten minutes into the process, I had the distinct feeling that we were working on a woman who was not going to live I noticed that she had voided her bladder I had the strangest feeling that she had left her body and was watching us work Some part of me could feel her nearby
Just then a car horn blared at us looked up to see a man in a brand new Mercedes Benz motioning for us to clear the road so that he could drive by us lignored him but he kept honking Then he yelled at us: You're blocking the road! I wanted to yell back that he was a complete asshat but instead I shouted that We’re trying to save a woman’s life He turned sped off in the other direction Laying rubber to express his displeasure My judgments about people accustomed to privilege (it’s an epidemic in Mill Valley) nearly got the better of me but I returned my focus to trying to save this woman
I checked the time it had been nearly twenty minutes since Kathy called 911 Where the hell are the paramedics? We didn’t have to wait much longer I could hear the sirens approaching
When they arrived, they looked over at us Then they took their time getting prepared I suspect that they could see it was a hopeless case and felt no urgency One of them was smoking a cigarette he took a final drag and approached
Okay we’re here–you can go now Kathy and I stood down we were both agitated by the adrenaline flooding us I still had the feeling that the woman had left her body but was hovering nearby I looked up and whispered to her: Go towards the light that’s where you’ll find healing and your next adventure!
We watched them put the ambu bag over her mouth and start the compressions The cigarette smoker turned to us once more: You can go now we’ve got it
I asked Kathy if she wanted to go Her eyes said no as she shook her head We had both devoted considerable effort to saving this woman and neither of us was ready to simply walk away just because the paramedics had taken over for us and told us to go
We told him that we wanted to stay Suit yourself—he shrugged turned away They worked on her for a few more minutes before loading her into the Ambulance and driving off with no sirens
Kathy hugged and thanked me We said goodbye to each other Two strangers who would never see each other again united by a moment of crisis determined to do all we could to help
I returned to work and was immediately assailed by my boss with several demands She was leaving the next day and there was still a lot to do to get ready There was no time for me to process what I had just experienced, nor could I tell her I got to work but was in an altered state I have no idea what I did in the remaining hours before heading home that night
My wife took one look at my face when I got home and asked me what happened I told her of the afternoon’s events We both sat in a kind of stunned silence Then she suggested that I call the hospital
I did call them and was told that policy dictated that they couldn’t tell me anything as it would violate confidentiality I played on her sympathies–explained I had spent 20 minutes doing CPR and just wanted to know the result of my efforts I wasn’t after any names or details only if the woman who was admitted lived I’m not supposed to say, she told me But if it were me I’d want to know too I’m sorry to tell you that she didn’t make it
Days later an obit appeared in the paper she was Carolyn King—a retired teacher She’d been diagnosed as bipolar and was living in a group home near where Kathy found her–somehow Carolyn had managed to pull two people to her side so that she didn’t die alone or uncared for We were there–we witnessed her parting We wished her well–RIP Carolyn King
Ken Homer • March 2024
Note: CPR has been revised to compressions only
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