Dinner was leisurely with enjoyable conversation and good food. The restaurant wasn't terribly crowded. There was a large party of about ten people to my right, but the other tables were quiet couples. Our waitress hovered a bit too much but it was our only complaint for the night.
As we were finishing up our meal there was some commotion amongst the large party. They were all older couples, probably in their 60's, and as I turned to look, it appeared that there was a woman having a seizure at the table. The person next to her grabbed her around the waist and hauled her to her feet while shouting that she was choking. Chaos ensued. There were shouts to call 911 while some people leapt to their feet to help and others froze in fear.
Two days later, as I write, it seems like those few moments happened under water. Everything seemed to be happening so slowly. The agitation and panic of the woman who was choking, dragging herself wildly across the restaurant towards the piano, desperately trying to breathe. Her family and friends, distraught and attempting to help. Strangers, leaping to their feet in slow-motion, grabbing for cellphones, knowing it would be too late to wait for a paramedic.
There were a few people who rushed towards the piano who knew how to do the Heimlich Maneuver. Ali was among them. I was amazed. And proud.
I was too scared to move.
Another woman from their party said that she was a nurse. She was attempting to dislodge the food. Time was running out and nothing was happening.
Suddenly there was an authoritative voice that lifted above the chaos. In my memory, this voice that was shouting, "She's choking! I know what to do!" broke the underwater spell. Our waitress made a decision and took control. With a few short abdominal thrusts the woman could breathe. And so could the rest of us who had been paralyzed as we watched.
I've thought about this a lot in the last two days. What makes someone rush towards something that is scary when most instincts tell us to move away? Of course the easy answer is empathy, compassion or even love. I get all that.
Here's what I have trouble with. In theory, we all know how to do the Heimlich Maneuver. We've pretended and joked about it a million times. We might have even taken First Aid training and performed it on ResusciAnnie, but most of of us have never done it for real. We've never been face-to-face with another panicky human being who's life is ending right before our eyes.
What is it inside that makes someone take that kind of bet when the stakes are so damn high?
All I kept thinking was, "If I try to do something and fail, it's not me that dies."
Five minutes after it was over our waitress appeared back at our table with our bill. Her hands were still shaking when she said, "Sorry for the delay with the bill. I was a little busy over there."
Yeah. You were.
The whole thing has left me a little shaken. Why did I freeze? If no one else had jumped up to help, would I? If I had, and she had died anyway, could I have handled that? Am I the most selfish person in the world? Or just the most scared?
Ali and I have talked about it since. She's been trained in First Aid and CRP annually for the last ten years. She works with a population of people who choke easily and has actually saved someone's life in the school cafeteria. She assured me that it doesn't have anything to do with being selfish or scared. In her words, it has to do with confidence and calling.
She knew what to do and she's wired to do it. She asked me if I was there praying. Of course I was. "Maybe that's exactly what you're wired to do."
Maybe. But I still shake when I think about it.
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