bye, Fred

Yesterday sucked. I work for a medium-sized family-owned company in a small community. The owner, Gabby, works there as does his brother Sam. Another brother, Fred, used to work for the company and his house is across the back alley. Yesterday morning Gabby came running in yelling "call 9-1-1!" while making a beeline for the phone himself. I said "Fred?" and he said "yeah" and I ran over to Fred's house. Fred had already had several heart attacks and was in poor health; a few months ago he said that the doctors told him his heart was down to about 18% functionality.

I went inside and saw him laying on the floor on his side, turned him over on his back and tried to find a pulse... nothing. Still warm, no heartbeat, no breathing. I started doing CPR, what I could remember from a St. John's Ambulance course years ago and from a dinner table conversation over Thanksgiving - fifteen pumps on the chest and one breath, repeat.

All the while three of Fred's brothers (Gabby, Sam, and Bill) are standing there praying and crying, with Bill so desperate to help Fred that he was holding Fred's ankle and pumping the leg in an effort to get the blood flowing, or taking over Fred's breathing with such effort that I had to remind him that Fred needed to breathe out, too. I told Gabby that someone needed to stand outside and make sure the ambulance found the place right away, and just kept pumping.

I kept giving him CPR until the paramedics came and then just pumped his chest while they got to work and kept doing that until a second set of paramedics with shock paddles came and took over for me.

Then I went back to work. What else could I do?

A while later the ambulances left with their lights off.

If someone has a heart attack, they need help within about four minutes before other systems start shutting down for good. Maybe we didn't reach him in time. Maybe his heart was so far gone that nothing short of a new heart would save him. Bottom line is, he was a good guy and I tried to save him and I couldn't and he's gone.

On Sunday, he was showing me a picture taken of him in 1981, laughing and joking. Today's they're making plans for his funeral.

You never know when your time is up, people. If you knew that today was your last day, would you hold a grudge? Would you hug someone?