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FeedAlways on call—even at church
Sunday morning at church, a man passed out and coded in the pew right in front of us. We were there with our three little girls, and certainly weren’t expecting anything like that—one never is.
He began to slump forward, and his wife couldn’t hold him. I reached forward, and helped her to get him to a sitting position; my husband stepped in, because he’s MUCH stronger than I am. A few doctors from the congregation immediately ran over and took over the situation. The gentleman said he felt okay, and just needed to sit.
About five minutes later, it happened again. And the doctors ran over again. But this time, the doc who had taken charge couldn’t get a pulse. One lady parishioner helped to remove the gentleman’s tie, while my husband Peter held his legs up, all under the directions of the doctor. He told me to call for an ambulance, and started chest compressions. After about the fifth compression, the gentleman’s head popped up, and it was an “Alleluia” and “Thank God” moment for all of us.
My three little girls (ages five, three, and one) had very little idea of what was really going on, but my five-year-old was old enough to realize that it was something very serious. She watched everything with a trembling lower lip, but she sat very quietly, watching everyone trying to help this man.
When he was able to get up on his own, and walk to the gurney to be taken to the hospital, everyone was very grateful. Me, most of all, for doctors. They’re always on call, even on Sunday morning at church. That doctor saved that guy’s life, and it’s what they do all the time.
And the best thing of all was my five-year-old’s response to observing that situation. “I want to be a girl doctor,” she said.
