A GOOD SAMARITAN

Everybody knows the story of the Good Samaritan, or some variation of it. In case you need a refresher, I filtched this from Wikipedia:

The story is told in Luke 10:29–37: A man going from Jerusalem to Jericho is attacked by robbers who strip him and beat him. A priest and a Levite pass by without helping him. But a Samaritan stops and cares for him, taking him to an inn where the Samaritan pays for his care.

It's a basic parable of course, but insightful. In this day and age of "don't get involved" and "mind your own business" sometimes it's okay to step up to the plate. And I know many people do. Just this week in Cornwall an RCMP Officer stopped a pedestrian to suggest she might be safer walking on the correct side of the road. She was suspicious and called 911. We've been taught to be suspicious and fair enough. But I have a story, a true story of a modern day Samaritan who used a particular incident to broaden his understanding of human nature.

I'll be bouncing around here between nouns and pronouns and actual names, as I'm telling someone else's story this time, not my own.

It's about my brother Darrell, a woman named Diane, and a medical emergency.

About a month ago Darrell and Chris were getting ready to run some errands in Charlottetown, and were busy chatting when Chris realized that Darrell was switching lanes and pulling his big Dodge Ram into the Walmart parking lot, after surprisingly finding an excellent parking spot.

Chris turned and said, "What are we doing here?"

Darrell replied,"You always come here."

"Well, I wasn't going to come here today, I don't need anything." was Chris' response.

So Darrell says, "Well, we're here now, let's pop in and get some Yogurt, we're low."

So, nothing doing, they ambled in, and as usual on a Saturday morning, if the parking lot was packed, then the store would likely be more so.

As they wheeled their cart down the dairy aisle, they noticed a commotion at the far end. There seemed to be some panic in the air, and raised voices.

Darrell said, "I think someone's in trouble.........."

So he hurriedly went down and found an older gentleman lowering his wife to the floor, and he was frantic. He said, "I don't know what happened, she just fell against me, she never said a word, I don't think she's okay......." He was so upset.

Darrell has worked many years in emerge as most of you know, along with over 30 years as an R.N., he has quite a scope of practice in many fields, and his healthcare training just kicked right in.

He asked the gentleman if he could help, and he gave a quick assessment. No pulse. No breathing. No signs of life. His wife was already dead. But since it had literally happened about a minute before, Darrell started compressions, hollered for someone to call 911, and asked the husband for her name, as sometimes, you never know, a person can respond to their own name.

Within a mercifully short time, he heard that sound that all first responders listen for, the sound of a gargled breath. Darrell stopped to assess again, now getting a very thready pulse and shallow labored breathing, but optimistically, signs of life. He continued to keep her comfortable while assuring both of them that the ambulance would soon arrive, and indeed it wasn't far away. Darrell was used to performing CPR in an ER, with all the equipment at hand, everything he could possibly need. On your knees in the Walmart isn't really ideal.

Everyone involved was pretty happy to hear that siren coming closer. The Paramedics took over, slapping the oxygen on, getting Diane on a stretcher, and losing no time getting her to the Hospital. The poor husband could be heard answering the Paramedics questions, "No, she has no history of heart problems, she was perfectly fine this morning. Will she be okay?"

People (the looky Lou's) dispersed after that, and Darrell looked around for Chris, who was rooted to the spot. (As I would be, just useless.) They continued on their way, but the day had a strange air of unreality about it, as I'm sure you don't bring someone back from the dead everyday. But as Darrell said, "It's my job, I have the training, I'm just glad I was there."

This is not to mention the people who simply walked by the scene, disinterested. No offers of help. And if you can believe it one person was a Nurse Practioner who glanced at the scene, and said, "Looks like you have it in control," and kept on going. She didn't even offer to help. I would be speechless. Where was her training? Her compassion? I know a couple of N.P.s in our area who would have been on their knees, giving assistance!

Afterwards Darrell wondered from time to time how Diane got along. Did the Paramedics get her to the hospital in time? Was it a heart attck? Was she in St. John getting treatment there? He even watched the Guardian every day for a death of any woman named Diane.

And so a good deed was done. A good Samaritan in the form of an experienced Registered Nurse who was in the right place, right time. He saved that woman's life.

And that was the end of the story.

Pretty good story, right?

But that wasn't really the end of it. Is it ever, with me?

Picture it.

Just this week, a month after the Walmart episode, Darrell was at work, and Chris was back at the scene of the crime, as it were, and was doing a little shopping at the Walmart, when he turned down an aisle and came face to face with a woman who he believed to be Diane.

Now Chris is not a public sort of man, pretty quiet, but he was dying to ask. So he did.

He said, "You don't know me, but is your name Diane?"

And as you might expect, she appeared kind of suspicious. "Yes, how did you know my name?" Let's face it, scammers and assholes are rampant these days, but Chris is neither. She didn't need to be nervous. So he just gently explained that his partner was the person who gave her first response when she collapsed, and by this time her husband had also appeared.

Diane told Chris that she had absolutely no memory of the event. Not being at the Walmart, not having a heart attack, nothing, until eight days later, when she woke up in Hospital in St. John after open heart surgery. Which I guess, for Islanders is normal.

But what got me, and Darrell and Chris too, is that the couple never exchanged any information. They never asked, what is your partner's name so that we can thank him. Or, here's our number, would he call us so we can talk about it? It all seemed to happen so fast, so upsetting.Or just to let him know that it all turned out okay.

Darrell, or any first responder doesn't do it for thanks, and they won't get any more stars for their crown, but a simple thanks for saving my life might suffice. At least acknowledge it.

I can't imagine, if Diane hadn't gotten that life saving CPR at such a crucial time, what the present outcome might be.

Perhaps:

My wife is dead.

My mother died on the floor in the dairy aisle at the Walmart.

Nanny died.

An empty chair at the dinner table.

The clock ticking quietly as hubby has no one to pass the time with as he waits for Compass to come on.

No one to share a cup of tea and a date square with.

We're all just a statistic. And I'm being dramatic, because this is a true story, Diane indeed has risen from the dead and is already recovered enough to be back shopping at the Walmart. She may not remember it, but she was dead on the floor.

I always think in a case like this, in a different country perhaps, (one not too far away) what if Diane had awakened with broken ribs which could only be attributed to repeated compressions by an enthusiastic R.N.? What if the first thing she would think of was to sue that person? I'm sure it's been done, and perhaps for less than this. And I bet they'd find that person quick enough then.

But Darrell assures me this will never happen in Canada, due to the "Good Samaritan Act," which is real and valid and protects the public and the medical industry from legal action in such cases.

Good to know.

But I'd also like to know what ever happened to common sense and good old fashioned courtesy?

To put it in context, if you lost your purse and someone returned it, you would be so grateful. It's impossible to replace all your cards and driver's license and other sentimentable items buried in that thing, plus the intrusion of your privacy. You would thank that person, at least, and perhaps offer to buy them a gas card or something.

If your dog ran off, which is going on a lot here lately, and someone posted on Face Book that he'd been found, wouldn't you be thankful and go right to the site to pick him up? Would you think it was prudent to at least thank that person?

I would hope that my children have been brought up to be courteous and have a grateful heart. Common sense doesn't cost anything, nor does a kind act.

Darrell gave me permission to write this story. The event was not private, how could it be, is there any more public place than a supermarket? Lots of people knew what was going on, and in all the hubbub, the store Manager came out to get Darrell's name, so the couple in question would have had no trouble finding him.

But something was afoot that day.

Darrell rarely goes to the Walmart. He's not a Walmart guy. But a friendly driver at the intersection waved him through, so he arrived in jig time.

A perfect parking spot opened up.

He was in the right aisle when Diane went down.

The ambulance was very close by, increasing her chances.

Coincidences? I think not.

Keep your CPR up to date. If you don't have it, get it.

You never know whose life you could save.

In the most unlikely of places, in the dairy aisle at the Walmart, a stranger saved a woman named Diane from having supper with Jesus.

A Good Samaritan.