What were you doing at 4:15 am?

I know what I was doing... I spent my morning kneeling on asphalt, broken glass, and blood. But I was glad I could be there, even if I couldn’t be a lot of help.

Paul and I were headed to the airport in Texas at 6:00 in the morning for our 7:30 flight to Ontario via IAH. At 6:15 Texas time, but much earlier in California 4:15, we stopped for gas on 183 near the 71 exit, on the way to the airport. As Paul was pumping gas and I was half asleep, sitting in the car we heard a thump and a crunch. Paul wrapped hard on the car window and motioned for me to get out of the car. I looked up to see a car with its bumper missing pulling off to the side of the road. I got out and asked what happened. Paul hadn't seen the accident and at first it appeared to be a fender bender, but two trucks were pulling to the side of the road and I saw something dark lying in the ditch across the 6 lane highway. It was dark and I was unsure of what I was seeing, but I told Paul we should probably help. We are trained first responders and you never know if someone needs assistance and if anyone else who has stopped is able to help.

I ran across the freeway while Paul ran inside the station to call 9-1-1 (he used a land line because it is easier for emergency personnel to tell exactly where you are located and everyone else was surely on their cell phones calling already). Once I got there, I could see immediately that it was good Paul had been paying attention. It was a motorcycle vehicle accident and there was a victim badly injured lying in the middle of the freeway. There were 4 or 5 people standing around trying to figure out what to do, but probably untrained in first aid and possibly new to dealing with an emergency. They had obviously called emergency (as the one lady told me) and the one lady was trying to call someone for the victim. I introduced myself (my name is, can I help kind of thing) while running over to talk to the victim. He was conscious and alert, so I grabbed his hand and asked him his name. He was bloody from hitting the pavement with his face, but had a helmet on and said that his head actually felt okay. He said he didn’t want to move because he was in pain, and I told him not to of course! However, I thought he had said he couldn’t move, so I asked if he could wiggle his toes. He said yes, he could feel his toes. There really wasn’t much more I could do for him except keep him talking and monitor for shock.

A car with emergency lights on pulled up behind the wreckage (there was shattered glass, car carnage, bike pieces, and people everywhere, let alone the commuters trying to squeeze by in rush hour traffic). Originally I thought it was an off duty cop, but the lady surveyed the accident and did not approach me or the victim for a long while. Finally she came over and told me to not move him, and I affirmed that I had instructed him to not move.

It took a while for the ambulance to get there, but in the meantime I talked to the victim. He was worried that he didn’t want to look at his legs and that would just get him upset. I am sure he broke something, but his legs were just a little twisted and did not look bad (as in nothing protruding or lying at a horrible awkward angle). I checked his hands, but there were no broken bones there. Just scrapes and blood. His head, outside of his nose, which could have been just bloody or broken, only had some wounds, no additional fractures that were obvious. He will probably be missing teeth since his head did collide with the pavement, but his helmet saved him from having more serious injuries. He asked me to leave my number with someone, since he would like to send me a thank you and a bunch of roses. It was really sweet of him to say, especially given how he was feeling- I would not have been in the right frame of mind to be grateful while I was lying injured on the freeway. It was enough to hear him say how grateful he was, that really touched me. (Just as a side note, as a professional first responder, I couldn’t accept a gift anyway.) He also kept up a good spirit, saying what a way to miss work!

The ambulance arrived first, but shortly after that the fire truck got there. I told the victim that I could see the ambulance, but they were on the other side of 183. The pulled up, set up cones, and slowly made their way to us, prompting the victim to ask where they walking to the accident? It took them a few seconds to survey the scene before I felt like they wanted to take over control. I left them with the information I had gathered from the victim, they brought out the backboard, checked his pupil dilation and checked for chest injuries. I asked if they needed my information, and was told if I hadn’t witnessed the accident I was free to go but thanks for the assistance. As I walked across the median, I realized I was covered in blood splatter. I asked the paramedic at the ambulance for some wipes and once we crossed the highway to the gas station and I began to clean up, it was then that the adrenaline kicked in and I started to shake all over. I didn’t feel right again for about two hours (it probably helped throw off my blood sugar) and I still see images of the accident. All and all, not one of the saddest emergencies I have assisted in, but the one with the most impact (water tends to minimize broken bones and bloody body parts). The victim will have some recovery, but he will walk again, and his helmet probably saved his life.

It is often hard to know what to do in an emergency. Paul and I teach many classes for first responders – CPR, First aid, O2 administration, water safety, but it is hard to feel prepared after taking just a few hours of class. We have both had more experience dealing with emergencies than some people, but it never gets easier seeing someone else get hurt, nor does the adrenaline stop coming when you are called to act, and it is sometimes hard to know when to act. My simple advice is to do no harm (you can always just be a voice of calm for a victim if you know how to do nothing else) and to always stop to make sure the situation is really under control, because more often than not, it isn’t.

An Austin adventure

Paul and I took a weekend away to go back home to Texas. Our first stop was Austin: we took a red eye plane after my class on Thursday night (Paul met me at school with the luggage and we grabbed dinner at Denny's and headed to the airport). The plane flight was a few hours to IAH then we had a small layover and caught a short 30 minute hopper to Austin (this "hopper plane" was still a 737, not all that small). Here is a great picture of a Texas runway... do you like the hay rolls?



I did not get much sleep on the plane despite bringing that cool neck pillow. So when we got to Austin, we both needed a nap. Paul dove into bed to take a nap, we stayed with our good friends Constance and Steve, while Constance and I ran out to pick up snacks. We went to a local market to get Paul some coke and me some microwave popcorn. Then we went to Central Market to pick up deli meat and breads, which I snacked on the whole weekend. I swear I gained a few pounds over the weekend, but all the food was so fantastic!

We thought we might go out to dinner on Friday night with friends, but everyone was unavailable. Our plans turn out to be better- we stayed at "home" and had homemade pot roast and roasted carrots and parsnips. I had never had parsnips before and roasting the veggies in simply olive oil tasted great! I cannot wait to try it myself. We also ran over to Half priced books because I LOVE that place. Paul found a few Sci-fi books, and I picked up some fun little things- a travel book, a business book, and a calligraphy book I had been interested in. The greater Pasadena area is in great need to this kind of store... hummmm... employment ideas for post MBA!

Saturday's plan was to get up and go diving. After no sleep for nearly 48 hours and the two hour time difference, though, we barely got out of the house past 1 PM. Dave had already been up since probably around 5 AM, but he meet us out at the lake with a bunch of gear supplemented by a quick stop to my all time favorite dive shop- Tom's Dive and Ski (not just because I used to work there). We picked up weights, a regulator, fins, booties, and wet suits (I ended up getting a wetsuit sized 11-12 because when the girl asked me what size I wore, I answered 8 thinking in wetsuit sizes; she might have been asking me my pant size). Needless to say, I did not have much trouble getting into my suit. I also picked up some sun block and water at the HEB near the lake. Paul took a picture of me outside of it (does he miss Austin and HEB grocery stores or did he like me in my short shorts and bathing suit?)



At the lake we finally caught up with everyone. The temperature of the lake was around 82 degrees Fahrenheit, but it was almost 30 feet below full.





There was pretty much guaranteed to be no thermocline. When the water is all one temperature like that, the silt does not settle into one section of water, it stirs from the bottom to the top (when there is a thermocline, the colder water is denser and silt will not pass between thermocline zones.) There were five of us going diving. Paul had packed the computers and compasses, but thought I had brought along the computers, so he only brought the compasses. I dove the "ole fashion way" with a dive watch (borrowed) and a depth gauge, LOL. We had also brought our own masks, since that is a serious part of being comfortable on a dive: having a mask that fits correctly. We looked like total strokes because we had piece-mealed our gear together with some DIR dive gear, some commercial rental gear, and some borrowed odds n ends.



For example, I had not a single clip to attach my secondary regulator nor my SPG (submersible pressure gauge) to my BC (buoyancy compensator). I looked like a regular octopus:



Constance and I decided we only wanted to go to the shelf in the lake (the one that is normally at 90ft with grottos, but is now around 60 ft). I borrowed a light and we headed down the stairs then downt he chain. Steve though the would mainly follow us because he did not want to go as deep as Dave and Paul in only a shortie. As Constance and I hit the shelf, I saw Steve in front of me and a group of descending divers, who were not looking down, descend on him at the same time another group of divers ran into him from the side. It was an amazing cluster of clueless divers; welcome back to Lake Travis! It was as I remembered it, down to the 5-7 feet of visibility. We all had a great dive. I swim a little faster than almost anyone I dive with, partially because the joy of the dive for me is moving through the water (I am a true swimmer), but also because others like to stop and explore more than me. I, like I normally do in teaching, spent some time double checking on the people behind me. Steve even went off to see the visibility down near 100. At the deepest we hit around 80 and saw the Pinto and two boats.

As we hit the 30 minutes mark, we headed up towards 30 ft and swam back towards our entry point. While we were headed back, maybe 15 minutes into it, I adjusted my mask and POP! the strap came off. I asked Steve to look at it, but he gave the "broken" sign (sometimes given as the middle finger over the piece of gear in question). I called the dive. I was able to mainly keep the mask on my face if I didn't turn my head, but what a pain; plus we were already at our safety stop depth, so we headed up.



Constance thought ahead well and came prepared- she brought beer, crackers, and cheese! What a great dive :-).