A
male
age
,
SamuraiRick
writes:I know the following story has nothing to do with relationship advice but it is a very personal event that happened to me on this day. Since I have no significant other to share this with now….I will share it with you readers and fellow agony aunts. Early in the day I was calling a contact for a customer who had missed a dosage on her pill dispenser. A child picked up the phone. He asked me “Are you God?” No I’m not, I said. I asked to speak to the young boy’s mother and he passed the phone to her. I had to smile. Where would he get the idea that God would make a phone call? About an hour later I got an alarm call from an emergency pendant button. When a customer who wears an emergency pendant presses her button, as in this case, the alarm hits computer screens randomly to our service center. This one found its way to me. Her name was Anna. When I called out to her if she needed help, I heard her call out from a distant room….”Help, help, help…” It wasn’t an actual shout. It wasn’t a blood curdling scream. It was an even voice calling out…”Help, help, help…” I asked her what the problem was. But she didn’t seem to hear me or respond to my direct question. I then told her “I’m calling for help for you now Anna.” I then called the 911 number in her area to dispatch EMS. All I could hear was her calling out help repeatedly, and I repeated that to the dispatcher. The call to EMS didn’t take long, but during the call I started hearing a droning chiming sound from the 2way where I was still listening in on Anna….Shortly after the chiming the call from the 2way dropped. Minutes later the alarm came in again and I picked up, I was not hearing Anna, but the droning chime had continued there…and again the line dropped. I tried to call the premises number there, but no response. I made one more phone call to a contact, her son, and he said he would go there right away. My job was done at that time. I wrote my notes on what happened. I then took two more alarm calls that went through well, not as troubling or mysterious as this one. A half hour later we got a call to our center from the fire department in regards to Anna. I was shocked to hear that Anna had died in a fire and they had recovered her body. There are no words to describe how this crushed me. Here I am still doing routine calls and I get this. I kept asking myself why…what more could I have done. If only I were a minute or so faster calling the authorities. And her words kept haunting me…”help, help, help.” During the dispatch to the authorities I had to ignore her call while I was providing information on the alarm and her address. I don’t even know if she could hear me when I was trying to reassure her that I had called for help. Of course…she couldn’t…SO now my day has ended. I came home and I am crying. God why…? What could I have done? And now the young child’s words come back to me….”Are you God?” Young man, I wish I were. But then again seeing the fate of this poor helpless soul that has passed away…..and how her death is in my hands…I don’t know….I just feel so cold and alone now. What did I do wrong….what more could I have done to save her? Other coworkers told me that there was nothing more I could have done. I did it right. I did my job, like I have done hundreds of times. But I don’t know…This time I have to deal with a death. And her last words still haunt me. May God bless her soul….and save me from my guilt.
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male
reader, herenow +, writes (11 June 2011):
I think the answer is in the title. It seems to foreshadow the event quite well.
The child asking you if you are God forces you to realize you are not. You could only do what you did. Move on, leave the rest to the Lord.
A
male
reader, daletom +, writes (24 January 2008):
It isn't politically correct to say this because it's not optimistic enough . . . but . . . you may never "get over" this tragedy.
I think supposedly preventable deaths afflict people that way. 30 years after the fact I'm still haunted by the death of my first child due to birth complications. Even irrelevant events like setting a clock forward for daylight saving time can trigger flashbacks.
My wife and I followed our instructions. The hospital staff, as far as I know, acted correctly. But suppose - we had moved just a little quicker at 1 AM. Suppose - a more experienced resident had identified symptoms sooner. Suppose - I had actually counted the baby's heart rate, rather than just listening those last few days. Suppose - we had used a different OB/GYN practice, with a different protocol for prenatal imaging.
I don't feel guilt, nor shame. But there's the knowledge that doing routine, mundane, things a little different might have made a big difference. And the accusation that another person, helpless, relied on me and my performance was inadequate for the task.
I'd like to give you an answer, or at least encouragement. I can't. I can only offer the assurance that other people have walked a similar path and it's a long journey.
I was walking a rather steep stretch of that path last fall when I came across the story behind the Gospel song, "Precious Lord, Take My Hand". It's at [ http://www.christianitytoday.com/tc/2003/004/16.16.html ] if you're interested. The composer wrote the song after experiencing a tragedy somewhat like mine but even more so. The lyrics echoed my own sentiments - "I am weak - I am tired - I am alone." - and performing the song in a Blues style really emphasizes it. Again, no answers - just the assurance that someone else has experienced it. You can see the entire lyric at [ http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Take_My_Hand,_Precious_Lord ] but you will have to cut-and-paste the whole thing - including the comma before ",_Precious_Lord" - to see the page because I don't know how to make DearCupid implement a proper web link.
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A
female
reader, Timeslikethese  +, writes (24 January 2008):
What a strangely beautiful story. Very eloquently expressed.
As an eternal optimist, I can't help but think that we should take our experiences and grow from them. It can be very hard, in times such as these, to think clearly and see beyond the tragedy. The death of poor Anna, whether she knows it now or not, was shared, in some way, with somebody.
Somebody cared, somebody is thinking about her, somebody is praying for her soul. Not just anybody, but you. Her life touched yours, she has had an impact in the world. However small. And, if you choose to believe it, she's in a better place now.
She's certainly touched my life too.
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A
reader, anonymous, writes (23 January 2008): This is a really touching story.
You know? It makes me happy to hear that there are still people out there in the world, people like you, who do good and try to help others. Sometimes it seems like this world is full of hatred, fighting, and disrespect for one another.
This is undoubtedly an experience that you won't forget easily, and I'm sorry to hear that you've had to experience this, but this is in your job. I mean, you really did all you could. You know that you did. It's natural to feel bad, and feel as though you could have done more, but you couldn't have.
It's clear that you did everything in your power, and slowly, I can assure you, the guilt will fade away. There isn't anything to feel guilty about - you did your job correctly. Things like this are in God's hands, and human power alone is not enough to stop this almighty power.
Try not to let this get to you more than it should, as, as you say, you are not God. God has the power to give and take away life, and this was that woman's fate.
If you need to talk, I'm here for you. I hope you start to feel better soon, as you did all you could.
I just wish there was more good people in the world, like you. You did everything in your power. I'm proud of you.
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