Doing what you can...

I was at a coffee shop yesterday talking with someone when I saw something unusual out of my peripheral.  It turned out to be a young woman collapsing into a heap on the floor. 

In one moment she was standing there money in hand, the next moment slamming on the tile floor passed out completely.

I don’t know how everybody responds to things like this, but I instinctively began moving toward the chaos thinking in the moments in between, “What am I going to do?”  The unknowns and feelings of uncertainty don’t stop your feet from shuffling forward because regardless of whether it’s over your head or you can really help at all, you can at least begin the domino effect of help that will eventually come.  And it did.

As I knelt down to look at her face, she went from out cold to slowly opening her eyes as I was lifting her head off the cold, hard floor and cradling it in the cup of my right palm.  Someone else came over and was already on the phone with the EMS asking me questions about what she was feeling and if she was responding to my questions.  She was responsible for getting the ambulance dispatched and they were there within 10 minutes. 

Another girl came over with an orange juice and straw asking her to tilt over and take a few sips.  At first the girl who was passed out said she didn’t very much like orange juice, but the other girl insisted her body needed the vitamins and sugars, etc.  So without a great deal of neck movement she leaned a bit and drank some juice. 

In the next moments someone had gotten a cold, wet towel with ice in it to hold on the back of her neck as she continued talking about what she felt.

I asked her if she had ever fainted and she said no.  I asked her if she ever had ever had a seizure and she shook her head no.  Then she said, “I just went and gave plasma for the first time.”  I looked down and saw the band aide around her finger and remembered my college days when I gave plasma.  Actually, the last time I gave plasma was when I blacked out and I was like, “That’s it.”  When she shared that with me I felt more relieved that we were just dealing with some imbalanced fluids probably and that she would be hopefully be ok.  I was just thankful it didn’t happen in the car on the way back from Grand Rapids.

We started asking if she hit her head or felt any pain anywhere to make sure there were no broken bones, bleeding, or head injuries.  Toward the end before the ambulance got there she mentioned that the side of her head hurt, but thankfully it didn’t look as if she hit anything real hard on her way down. 

Like I said, in about 10 minutes the ambulance was there and they kicked into gear.  I didn’t need to hold her neck anymore and they began going through a list of questions and tests to find out her status. “Real help” had finally arrived.

But I think life is like that.  I think the “I’ll-take-what-I-can-get help” arrives often before the “real help” gets there.  The former is as important as the latter.  It gets the ball rolling so that the competent help gets the memo.  If ‘everyday people’ don’t run to the mess and begin ‘doing what they can’, the chain reaction or domino effect doesn’t kick in that gets the person the help they really need.  We underestimate how helpful our meager efforts can be thinking you need training to be of any help when really 80% of help is caring and courage.  The ‘first responders’ are usually regular people who happen upon an emergency, and their phone call or applied pressure on a wound or stabilizing of the neck or calming questions buy the time needed so that the “trained professionals” have time to get there before it’s too late.  This situation didn’t turn out to be life or death, but anytime someone collapses, the whole room responds as if it’s life or death.

People where shaking and breathing heavy and pasty white with fearful faces.  That place went from a relaxed setting to get some work done or have a chill conversation to a war zone.  I’m always amazed at humanity in times of crisis.  I’ve never been a part of a scary moment when people aren’t running toward the chaos and carnage.  Despite their fear of inadequacy and their terror over the unknowns they are walking into, most people know that “doing nothing” isn’t an option.  They “do what they can” in the moment.

And somehow everyone coming together and ‘doing what they can’ pieces together into a pretty good plan of action in a moment of confusion and trauma.  No one person feels qualified, but the whole works out to be greater than the sum of the parts.  It’s beautiful.

So today none of us are being asked to change the world, we are simply being invited to “do what we can” in the next moment. The next right thing.  Every little bit counts.