Sirens

That moment when you can hear the sirens through your headset. It brings you a sense of comfort, for more reasons than one.. You know help has finally arrived, for whoever happens to be dying in your ear. If you’re optimistic, you know that somebody is going to be saved, cared for, or at least taken somewhere they can get help.

I have a soft spot for the elderly. I lost my great-grandmother the summer after I graduated from high school. For around 6 years of my early life, she was my caretaker. Not just a babysitter, no, because those normally just give you a juice box and let you run around in the yard until you are tired enough to take a nap. But she was more. She showed me things, like how to pray and how to speak Spanish. I had a deep connection with her, and I believe she felt the same connection with me. Her passing was hard, and I’m not sure if I’ve totally gained closure. But I try. 

I received a 911 call from a daughter, needing the ambulance for her elderly father. He was drinking water, just like every other time. Nothing different. Except some went down his windpipe. And he couldn’t bring it back up. I found out through talking with the panicked daughter that the man also had various other medical conditions. CHF, HBP, etc. The fear, the sheer terror in her voice, asking him in Spanish to breathe was quite scary.

“Respira dad, please. Tienes que tozer para que sale la agua.” 

“Ma’am, you need to try and pat his back, to get him to cough the water up.” 

“I can’t, he’s on his recliner and he’s too heavy for me to pick up.”

First Aid training instinct kicked in.

“Ma’am, you need to try and get behind the chair and wrap your arms around him. Make a fist under his sternum and push. He really needs to get that water out.” 

“Ok, let me try. Please dad, breathe.. I’m going to try and help you dad, just cough.” 

The phone goes partially silent, and all I can hear is faint dialogue from her to her father. Finally, a loud cough.

“Are you better dad? Can you breathe? I think he’s breathing again. Oh thank God. Thank you so much sir.”

Just then, I hear the sirens on the earpiece. They are faint, but I can hear them. 

“I hear them coming!” 

“Ok, great ma’am. Please don’t hang up. Is he able to talk or breathe?” 

“Dad, ABC, 123.” 

“ABC, 123,” a hoarse, but steady voice says.

"Oh my God, thank you, he's breathing again sir! Gracias a Dios!"

No major obstruction. Good. 

“They’re outside sir. Thank you so much, I just didn’t know what to do.”

“Ma’am, you’re very welcome. Meet the EMT’s at the door and they will take the call from here now.”

“Ok, thank you so much!” 

*click*

And she was gone. A bit of accomplishment. But I hadn’t been so happy to hear sirens. Ever.