A not-so-quick story for the masses. Some will get the drift of what I'm saying. Others, not so much.
A couple of weeks ago, I got that call that no parent ever wants to get. It was my daughter. She was almost unintelligible. She had gone to the grocery store and ran a few errands. She received a text from her husband imploring her to get home, that he was having chest pain and pain down his right arm. By the time she called me, Gary had been loaded into the ambulance and the paramedics were working on him. My daughter didn't know if he was dead or alive. The paramedics told her he was "in rough shape" and to get to the hospital. I, myself, was a paramedic long ago and mentally deciphered their words as ominous.
I got to the hospital as fast as possible and met my daughter in the hallway. She had just come from the ER and the look on her face told all. The Dr's permitted several close relatives to enter the ER while attempting to resuscitate Gary. This was certainly something new to me that relatives could actually be in the room as their life-saving efforts were taking place. My guess is that their thoughts were that it couldn't hurt and possibly might, just might, help matters. Gary had a mechanical CPR "machine" that was like a halo over his chest. This machine beat on his chest every 1/2 second. It was apparent that every rib in his chest was broken in an effort to get the heart working again. After so many thumps, the defibrillator was used and epi pumped in via IV. This went on for a solid hour before he was pronounced deceased. At that point, that Emergency Room was filled with Doctors, nurses, paramedics, a police officer who had responded to the original 911 call and, of course, family. There was not a dry eye in the room -- mine included. Gary was 55 years old.
So, there you have it, folks. A reality break which illustrates what, to me, is and is NOT important in life. The name-calling and one-upmanship of each other is, in my opinion, NOT worthy of mature, responsible adults.
One person's point of view.
