You only die once

Chapter 2B In water on land

Chapter 2B

In water on land

Life throws things at us and we respond, sometimes correctly and sometimes wrongly. Sometimes you get it halfway.

It is now six years since the day I was exercising in my apartment's gym in the late afternoon. We had purchased this small apartment as a mini investment, and also to enjoy the facilities which included a nice gym and pool. I usually swam but, that day, the pool was full of people. I think it was the school holidays. Yes, I have learnt to swim after my near-drowning experience. Just after a few weeks, I started taking swimming lessons. Nope, there was no fear of the water. Didn't know what fear was at that young age, I guess.

I had completed my run and weights in the gym. I walked out and turned left to my apartment block. Out of the corner of my right eye, I noticed that there was a small crowd. I didn't make much of it. Not sure what the minor commotion was. I took the lift to my apartment on the 12th floor, got in, and then went to the window to look out at the nice sunny sky. The view was fairly magnificent, overlooking the small township, with the hills in the back and clouds lining the blue sky. I always liked to stare out into the view. It gave me a nice calm feeling.

When I looked down, I could normally see the whole stretch of the pool with the podium and gym. This late afternoon was different. I looked down and saw the crowd again at the poolside. A complete sense of panic overcame me in a short moment. A girl was lying motionless face-up on the ground by the pool. A young lady was calling to her. About 10 to 20 people were crowding around.

The next moment, I bolted out of my apartment and was pressing the lift button repeatedly and shouting, "Come on, come on." My wife was in pursuit. Within the next minute or two I was next to the girl. No one had done any resuscitation. I went through the motions of checking, then started CPR. Everything was real and yet like a blur when I think back. I had to perform CPR for 30 to 40 minutes. Someone else came and helped. He said he knew CPR and started chest compressions while I gave breaths. The ambulance took a while to arrive because it lost its way! At the time, my mind was focused only on getting her back. I asked my wife to elevate her legs, hoping that a few more drops of blood back into her circulation may help.

Finally, the ambulance arrived. I went along in the ambulance. They allowed me to help as I identified myself as a doctor.

"Adrenaline," I said and the next moment, I was injecting it directly into her external jugular vein. Within seconds, a heart rate returned and in less than a minute, circulation had returned with a strong bounding pulse. With the ambulance moving and swerving left and right, doing CPR was difficult enough. To give an injection directly without a cannula, I was really chancing it. Somehow, even with the adrenaline pumping in myself, I got it done.

We reached the hospital and she was instantaneously pushed into the emergency unit. That was the last time I saw her. Only then I think I realised her mother was also in the ambulance. She was sobbing profusely and just before she entered the emergency unit, she turned and said a thank you. That was also the last time I saw her.

I was in near total exhaustion. I sat down and slowly gathered my thoughts on the side of the pavement. When in training or in the hospital doing CPR, you only do it for four to five minutes max. Someone else would have taken over. During training, you are told to continue CPR until you cannot because of exhaustion or it is futile. Doing CPR for 30 to 40 minutes is really not a joke. It took at least 10 minutes before I even realised where exactly I was. I was wearing a pair of shorts, my Arsenal t-shirt, and a pair of slippers. Nothing else was on me. My wallet and phone were left in the apartment. I had to ask the hospital staff to call my wife to fetch me.

The next week, the newspapers covered the story. There was even a photo of me doing CPR over the girl with my wife present. In a disaster like this, we act. Or at least I thought that is what we should do. I guess other people think documenting is also important. The era of social reporting had just begun. Did they even ask us for permission to print? My wife's face was in full view. Luckily, mine was not. Luckily, neither of us were identified in the news. If we called and protested, we would need to identify ourselves. Better just play dumb.

If my memory serves me right, it was ten days later that she was pronounced brain dead. Her family donated her organs. The newspaper praised her family, acknowledging the loss, but highlighted that she saved a lot of people with her organs.

I had a difficult few months after that day. Flashbacks, sleepless nights. Could I have done better? Why couldn't I save her? Here was my chance to pay it forward. I was a near-drowning victim and I just couldn't save her. Going up to my apartment and rushing back down probably took more than five minutes. But she was cold from the water. Wouldn't that help to keep her brain intact longer? If I had bothered to see what the commotion was, I would have commenced CPR then. Maybe she would still be alive. Why did I not turn right and see what was going on?

Every time I went to the pool after that incident, I would feel a sense of panic with my pulse racing and flashbacks would happen. Is this what post-traumatic stress disorder is? I can only imagine the loss the family went through then. She was just a bit younger than my daughter then. I felt l had failed a crucial test that day.

Eventually I got over it. I had to accept the fact. I saved the body but not the brain. She was able to donate her organs. At least that meant something. 'Sometimes you get it halfway.'

What are the chances that I survived near-drowning and resuscitation? What are the chances I would be resuscitating a victim of drowning? You can work out the maths. It is a very, very minute chance. Thus, God exists?

In life lessons, I am convinced we are judged on what we do here. We don't need to think about the afterlife, if there is one. Do the right thing. Problem is, what is right? One needs to decide for one's self what is right.

I have been asked many times whether to put Dr or Mr when booking a plane ticket through an agency. Never really gave it a thought. Many decline to be identified as a doctor. You may be called upon in a plane and you can hardly reject that call. Yet, doctors have been sued for malpractice. We think that the good Samaritan law exists. Well, it doesn't. Not in writing, it doesn't.

In America, my medico legal coverage is not valid. Many are fearful to help. So doing the right thing may not be viewed to be right. It was reported that an ambulance driver who stopped and saved a life from an asthma attack got sacked because he was responsible only for the 'cold' (non-emergency) patient he was ferrying in the ambulance to the hospital for treatment. In another incident, a nurse was sued and lost after he saved someone who was choking to death with a Helmrich manoeuvre. Unfortunately, he cracked a rib. The nurse was bankrupted and went to Saudi to work to earn the money to pay the damages. A known complication and, in most opinions, a small price to pay. But, in the new world we live in, what is right is a blur...