So I’m coming back from the gym at lunchtime, which involves two bus rides. The first one drops me at Warren St, then it’s round the corner for the second bus along Euston Rd. A simple and quick journey, most of the time. But there’s a body at the bus stop.
Three or four people are milling round it. My first instinct, and I’m not proud of this, is to just avoid. It’s probably a drunk, or a user. People seem to be getting involved. Not much I can do, and I’ve got a call scheduled in a few minutes.
Then I have a pang.
There’s a guy – officer worker? - huddled over the body. Sort of taking charge. I say to him:
“Have you got a pulse?”
He looks at me like he doesn't know what I’m talking about.
So now, I have to get involved, cos no-one has thought to check if this person is alive or dead.
Hopefully, I will be able to remember a bit of basic first aid.
Yes, there’s a pulse. Yes, he’s breathing. Put him into the recovery position. Stick a coat under his head, tilt head back a bit to clear the tongue.
What else? It’s been a few years since I took a first aid course.
He’s an Indian guy, young, quite smartly dressed.
Did anyone see him fall? Did he hit his head?
No, he collapsed onto a passer-by.
Ambulance is called.
People start approaching me with suggestions. “Give him some water!” says a mum pushing a pram. Well that’s not going to work is it? I’m mean, the guy’s unconscious!
“Why don’t you carry him to A&E?” UCL is only 100 yards away, but there’s no way I can carry a dead weight that far. I don’t even know what’s wrong with him, I could easily make things a lot worse.
Twenty minutes go by.
He keeps breathing, thank god. I honestly don’t know if I’d remember artificial respiration.
“Can I help? I’m a doctor.”
She’s walking back from lunch and takes charge. Gets the ambulance crew on the phone.
So that’s it. My work here is done. Back on the bus, to my overdue phone call.
Moral of the story is – get involved. Don’t assume that others know what to do or what they’re doing. And take – or refresh – a first aid course. It will happen to you, sooner or later. Be prepared.
Three or four people are milling round it. My first instinct, and I’m not proud of this, is to just avoid. It’s probably a drunk, or a user. People seem to be getting involved. Not much I can do, and I’ve got a call scheduled in a few minutes.
Then I have a pang.
There’s a guy – officer worker? - huddled over the body. Sort of taking charge. I say to him:
“Have you got a pulse?”
He looks at me like he doesn't know what I’m talking about.
So now, I have to get involved, cos no-one has thought to check if this person is alive or dead.
Hopefully, I will be able to remember a bit of basic first aid.
Yes, there’s a pulse. Yes, he’s breathing. Put him into the recovery position. Stick a coat under his head, tilt head back a bit to clear the tongue.
What else? It’s been a few years since I took a first aid course.
He’s an Indian guy, young, quite smartly dressed.
Did anyone see him fall? Did he hit his head?
No, he collapsed onto a passer-by.
Ambulance is called.
People start approaching me with suggestions. “Give him some water!” says a mum pushing a pram. Well that’s not going to work is it? I’m mean, the guy’s unconscious!
“Why don’t you carry him to A&E?” UCL is only 100 yards away, but there’s no way I can carry a dead weight that far. I don’t even know what’s wrong with him, I could easily make things a lot worse.
Twenty minutes go by.
He keeps breathing, thank god. I honestly don’t know if I’d remember artificial respiration.
“Can I help? I’m a doctor.”
She’s walking back from lunch and takes charge. Gets the ambulance crew on the phone.
So that’s it. My work here is done. Back on the bus, to my overdue phone call.
Moral of the story is – get involved. Don’t assume that others know what to do or what they’re doing. And take – or refresh – a first aid course. It will happen to you, sooner or later. Be prepared.