Labor Day 2013 

     Kate and Sam didn't seem to see him, or maybe it just seemed that way since they were talking to each other. A man in a white t-shirt wearing sunglasses was kneeling on one knee, he was red, sweaty and breathing heavy. I couldn't blame him, so was I. August in Georgia is no joke. Temperatures are in the high 90s, humidity in the high 80s. And on this mountain that we are hiking there is very little shade. A smaller man in a flannel print shirt was not far from the man kneeling, he was obviously with him. And an older-than-the-others man, maybe in his late 40s was nearby on the phone. Kate and Sam were just a bit past the three men, but I felt like I couldn't keep going. "Do you need some help?" I asked. "Do you need some water?" I offered my purple camelbak eddy, and Sam and Kate offered their water bottles too. The man in the white shirt was in distress. He was sweating buckets and went from red due to the heat to pale from the heat in just a couple of minutes. His eyes were open and I caught his gaze, but he didn't seem able to talk. 
     I turn to the man in the yellow. "Are you calling 911?" 
    "I'm trying to." He said, a bit bewildered. 
     "Calling 911 from your phone won't be fast enough, you have to call from an emergency call station." I know this because my first job as a teenager was inside the very park where we are all hiking. Sam and Kate volunteer to run down the call box we passed on our way up the mountain. Sam drops her small bag with all of our keys and wallets and together they take off down the mountain to the call box and the man in yellow disappears. I realize he isn't with the other two men, he just stopped to help like we did. 
    I get closer to them. "Is there anything I can do to help?" The man in white is now sitting flat on the ground. He's very pale, very sweaty, and still out of breath. 
   "I'm not sure what to do?" Flannel shirt says. I sense his nervousness. 
   "Then I'll just wait with you," I say. "They'll be back soon." Poor guy, I think. It's super hot out here, he probably just over did it and he's over-heated and dehydrated. I'm slowly inching closer and closer to him which I guess was just instinct, because eventually he does lose consciousness and start to tip over. I'm close to enough that I and his brother in law, flannel shirt, catch him and guide him to the ground gently. Somehow in that I end up sitting behind him with his head and shoulders in my lap. 
    Everything that happened after that is such a blur. When I think about it, it plays in my head like highlight reel, just snippets of moments but never a coherent narrative of what happened. Things escalate quickly once he loses consciousness, and while I don't know what's going on I'm no longer assuming it's dehydration and over heating, it just seems more serious. Where are Kate and Sam? Did they call yet? Are the paramedics on their way? A small crowd of on-lookers has gathered. I'm mostly trying to block them out because they are only making me more anxious, but I let myself look over in search of Kate and Sam and anyone who looks like an EMT. I don't see anyone familiar or anything helpful, just lots of concerned faces. 
     "If everyone could just back up, please." The brother in law says. He's obviously a meek and gentle man, I can tell he was uncomfortable making that request. I can tell that he didn't mean me or the other two people who are trying to help, he meant the people crowding over who are just looking and not doing anything else. 
    One person is removing the unconscious man's shoes, and instructed me to remove his hat. "We need to let all the heat we can out of his body." Makes sense, I think. If nothing else it's something to do when we all know we can't do much. I'm trying to open my water bottle with my right hand while I hold the unconscious man's neck with my left. It's almost impossible to screw off the top. Someone sees me struggling and takes my water bottle, unscrews it, and hands it back. "Thank you." I say. I gently pour the water on the man's head and over his forehead. When my water bottle is empty someone else starts pouring theirs. I very gently, because of my long nails, sweep my forefinger under each of his eyes where the water has pooled. I do this several times. 
     We start CPR. The man doing compressions asks flannel-print what the other man's name is. "Chip" flannel-shirt replies. 
   "Okay, Chip. You stay with me now." Chest compressions guy says. He stands with one leg on either side of Chip's legs, places one palm over the other on Chip's chest and leans all of his body weight into compression after compression. Chip is tall with broad shoulders, and chest-compression guy is short and thin. Chest compressions guy is basically doing push-ups on "Chip's" chest. I pull gently on his neck and tip his head forward just slightly to straighten his airway as someone leans across me to breath for him. I can see Sam and Kate in the crowd now, and somehow that's a relief. It wasn't even a relief because I know they've called 911 and are back, it's a relief that I'm not alone. The look on their faces, even with sunglasses on, tells me it's bad. "Come on, Chip. Stay with me, Chip. Let's do this, Chip. Here we go, Chip." Chest compressions guy says over and over and over again. He does 10 compressions, the other man leans over and gives breaths, and it starts all over. "Let's do this, Chip. Here we go, Chip." 
    "Chip's" sweat is dripping on my legs. The tips of my fingers are touching each other on the back of his neck and his head is resting against my forearms. My hamstrings and calves feel like they are on fire from squatting in this position. I'm holding this man in my arms, looking into his face and literally praying to Jesus  to save this man's life. I don't let myself consider that he is dying or died, I only let myself think that if I have enough faith in God that he will live. Scripture that I've memorized floods my head. I'm calling upon it and shouting it at God in my head as if it's some promise that he must save this man. 
Psalms 37- the lord gives us the desires of our heart. Romans 11:1- I ask then, does god reject his people? By no means! Hebrews 13:5 For he himself has said I will not in anyway fail you. I look over into the crowd wanting to see Kate and Sam again and out of my proreferral  vision I can see a woman extending her arms in prayer towards us. Her eyes are shut tight and her lips are moving gently. For some reason it calms me to see I'm not the only one praying. 
   My thoughts are going back and forth from trusting god to demanding that god save this man to believing he will to not letting myself have doubt. My body is so connected to this man. I imagine life flowing through my hands and forearms and into him. I picture it pushing blood through his vessels and oxygen into his lungs. "Chip's" face becomes even more pale, he's now white was his t-shirt. And then within a few seconds it's purple. His lips are purple, his cheeks are purple. That's not a good sign, I think. But nevertheless I won't let myself consider that this man may die today, he may even be dead already. 
   The crowd starts to shuffle. EMS is finally here. It's taken them so long (it feels like) that I'm not even relieved to see them, I'm frustrated. In fact, I'm a little upset that they are here. Because now I have to move, I can't hold him anymore. I have to give him over to the paramedics now. I questioned if they could care enough to save him. Not because they did anything to earn that question from me, but because I'm so invested in this man living that I doubt anyone is more invested than me. 
   I'm last the person to get up and let the paramedics completely move in. Partially because I can't get up until someone else supports his head, and partially because I'm going to wait until the absolute last second to move. The paramedics hold his shoulders so I can slide out from underneath him. My legs are so sore, but nothing hurts more than breaking physical contact with him and walking away. I walked over to Kate and Sam. One of them hands me a water bottle. I stand with them and watch, and I start to cry for the first time in this whole ordeal. One of them rubs my shoulder. Flannel-shirt gathers up "Chip's" shoes and socks and the EMTs load him onto a stretcher. He has an oxygen mask on but no one seems to be moving quickly. The woman who had been praying approaches me. "Are you okay?" 
"Yes I'm fine." I say, obviously lying my ass off, and walk away. I feel a pang of guilt for being rude to her, my secret prayer partner. Even 4 years later, long after I've abandoned praying, I'm still so sorry for being rude to her, and it still stings. Before getting into the ambulance flannel-shirt finds me and hugs me. "Thank you so much" he says. I can tell he means it. I hug him back. "You are so welcome." In my head I say I didn't do anything. What kind of person would I be to keep walking?
   I don't remember what they did but Kate and Sam take care of me. Eventually we go home. It's the second weekend of the semester and I have homework to do, but I let myself just lay in bed. I overheard the paramedic tell flannel-shirt that they are taking him to Dekalb Medical. I call the emergency room there but they won't tell me anything since I don't know his last name. He's going to be fine, I say in my head. 
   The next morning I can't take it anymore. I need to know what happened to him. I call a friend who has a friend who works at Dekalb Medical. I tell her what happened, give her all the information I can, and ask her to find out if he's okay. "I'll find out for you," she says, "but are you sure you really want to know? Even if it's bad news?" I've thought about this. "I just need to know." I say. "I'll be upset if it's bad news, but at this point I just need to know." 
She accepts this. "I'll call you back," she says.  Hours later she calls back. He didn't make it, he died. Likely long before the paramedics arrived. All of the sudden the nightmare from the day before has bled into today and gotten worse. All of the sudden it hits me that I man I did not know literally died in my arms. The reality that my prayers didn't work, that CPR didn't work, that urging life through my hands and into is body didn't work, sets in. 
     All of this launches me into the deepest existential period of my life. I have so many questions: why did he have to die? Why did god abandon him? Why did god abandon me? If, for whatever reason that I will undoubtedly disagree with, it was his time to die, why did I have to part of it? Why include me? What was the point in my involvement? 

Labor Day 2017

      Over time I've learned to how to sit with not knowing the answer to some of these, and others I have found answers to.  Fortunately or unfortunately (it depends on the day), my relationship with my higher power never recovered from this. Processing through all of this has taught me a lot about myself. For example, I know now that no matter how high the stakes are or how scary something is, if someone is in need I won't be able to walk away. I just won't, even if that's what I wanted. It's just not who I am, no matter how bad the outcome may be. Somehow this makes my work with eating disorders make a lot of sense. The stakes are high, and yet here I am. Another example is that I learned that vulnerability connects me to others. Being in this situation with him forced me to act according to my deepest, most raw feelings: I want this man to live. And I will believe anything I have to to make that true. And even though he didn't ultimately live, bringing forth my most delicate thoughts is what we bonded me to him and allowed me to feel love for him. 
    Even with four years between this event and the present, I still think about that day, this man, our brief but profound time together, and his family all the time. This weekend they are on my mind. I wish I could find them and tell them that I'm so sorry their brother in law, son, husband, and dad died. And even though it sounds impossible because I didn't know him, I cared for him as I would have the people I hold the most dear, and in those moments I loved him as deeply as I've loved anyone. 



Thanks for reading, everyone.