My good deed for the day
Well. I had a bit of an adventure this afternoon. I went to open skate over at Supreme Sports--which is not actually the adventure in question, although it was pretty hazardous given the toxic concentration of small children there for birthday parties and the fact that the roof was leaking so they had a bucket with cones around it smack in the middle of the far straightaway. It was good dodging and lateral movement practice in any case.
No, the real adventure started while I was on my way to the rink. I was heading east on Broken Land Pkwy when I saw a disabled vehicle pulled off on the right shoulder on the westbound side near the RT-29 interchange. As a traffic reporter I pretty much automatically look for any potential road hazards while I'm driving, so I took stock of what I saw. It didn't have any flashers on, but it was pulled far enough onto the shoulder that it didn't seem to be impacting traffic at all. Some dude was sleeping in it though, which I thought was a little odd. I took a mental note of it, but continued on my way.
Two hours later when I was finished skating, I was coming back home on westbound Broken Land Pkwy when I saw the car was still sitting there on the right shoulder. What's more, the guy was still in there. That definitely didn't sit right with me. At first I thought I would just call the police non-emergency number and have them check it out, but for some reason I figured I should go investigate instead. As someone who has pulled over to sleep in parking lots and other odd places a fair number of times in her day, I know how embarrassing it would be to have a cop pull up on you when you're just trying to nap.
Anyway, I banged a couple U-ees and made my way back to the car. I pulled in front of it and put on my flashers, then ran out into the pouring rain to check the car. Inside was an elderly man with his chin on his chest and his hands in his lap looking to the world like he was asleep. Feeling sort of sheepish, I knocked on his window. No response, not even a flutter of eyelids. I knocked a bit harder. Still nothing, no movement at all. I definitely wasn't getting a good vibe about this. I walked around the back of his car and checked his license plate. It was a Florida tag. I went back around to the driver's side window and knocked again, but he wasn't budging. Yeah, this wasn't good. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and called 911.
One of the good things about working in traffic and hearing medical emergencies called out umpteen times a day is that I know exactly what information the dispatchers need to hear. Also my directions are stupifyingly precise. I rattled off my location (right shoulder of westbound Broken Land Pkwy heading towards Town Center, right where the flyover ramp from northbound RT-29 joins it and then turns into the right turn lane for Merriweather), the make, model, color and license plate of the car, the condition and approximate age of the subject, and the make, model and color of my car as well as the fact that I had my flashers on so the cops would know where to stop. Totally calm and collected the whole time.
The dispatcher had to keep me on the line until the fire-rescue guys showed up.
"They coming from Banneker?" I asked, like the complete geek I am in any and all situations.
"Uh... yeah," he said.
"Cool, then they'll be here any minute."
The cop actually rolled up first. He pulled up behind my car with his lights on (a relief, because I was actually pulled over in the right turn lane and had been praying no one would hit my car) and then checked inside it, thinking that's where the guy was. Uh, no. I waved him over to where I was next to the guy's car. I gave him the brief rundown--that I'd seen this guy in his car in the same spot two hours ago and that he wasn't responsive. The cop pounded on the window. Nothing. He opened the guy's car door (which I wouldn't have dared to try, since I didn't know what kind of issues this guy was having and I didn't like the thought of maybe having a dead body fall on me) and shook him. Nothing. The cop was trying to find his pulse when the fire truck got on scene and the paramedics took over.
They did find his pulse, and what's more they found a likely culprit: a half-empty fifth of whiskey on the floor of the passenger side. They guy still hadn't opened his eyes but he was shifting his feet around a bit and moving his hands. He still wasn't responding properly even for someone drunk off his ass, so they suspected that he might have been having a diabetic emergency or that he'd had a seizure. It took them a little while (since he was a pretty hefty drunk old dude) but they wrestled him out of the front seat and onto the stretcher. The cop meanwhile was copying the information from my driver's license onto his notepad and questioning me. It entertained me to be referred to as a witness. I told him that I work in traffic so I'm used to looking twice at cars on the side of the road and I've covered my share of roadside medical emergencies.
"Well it's a good thing you stopped," he said. "On a rainy day like this we're so busy that we don't have time to stop and check on cars that are pulled over onto the shoulder and not causing a traffic problem. You may have saved his life."
I shrugged, feeling a blush of either embarrassment or pride or some combination of the two warm my cold, rain-soaked skin. "Yeah, well, I just hope he's okay."
They had loaded the guy into the ambulance and the cop said I could go. I got back into my car, manuevered around the assembled emergency equipment and pulled back onto Broken Land Pkwy.
I'd gone through two more traffic lights before the weight of what the cop had said settled on me. You try not to think of mortality or in terms of life-or-death situations, but there it was. By the time I got home my hands were trembling like leaves.
No, the real adventure started while I was on my way to the rink. I was heading east on Broken Land Pkwy when I saw a disabled vehicle pulled off on the right shoulder on the westbound side near the RT-29 interchange. As a traffic reporter I pretty much automatically look for any potential road hazards while I'm driving, so I took stock of what I saw. It didn't have any flashers on, but it was pulled far enough onto the shoulder that it didn't seem to be impacting traffic at all. Some dude was sleeping in it though, which I thought was a little odd. I took a mental note of it, but continued on my way.
Two hours later when I was finished skating, I was coming back home on westbound Broken Land Pkwy when I saw the car was still sitting there on the right shoulder. What's more, the guy was still in there. That definitely didn't sit right with me. At first I thought I would just call the police non-emergency number and have them check it out, but for some reason I figured I should go investigate instead. As someone who has pulled over to sleep in parking lots and other odd places a fair number of times in her day, I know how embarrassing it would be to have a cop pull up on you when you're just trying to nap.
Anyway, I banged a couple U-ees and made my way back to the car. I pulled in front of it and put on my flashers, then ran out into the pouring rain to check the car. Inside was an elderly man with his chin on his chest and his hands in his lap looking to the world like he was asleep. Feeling sort of sheepish, I knocked on his window. No response, not even a flutter of eyelids. I knocked a bit harder. Still nothing, no movement at all. I definitely wasn't getting a good vibe about this. I walked around the back of his car and checked his license plate. It was a Florida tag. I went back around to the driver's side window and knocked again, but he wasn't budging. Yeah, this wasn't good. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and called 911.
One of the good things about working in traffic and hearing medical emergencies called out umpteen times a day is that I know exactly what information the dispatchers need to hear. Also my directions are stupifyingly precise. I rattled off my location (right shoulder of westbound Broken Land Pkwy heading towards Town Center, right where the flyover ramp from northbound RT-29 joins it and then turns into the right turn lane for Merriweather), the make, model, color and license plate of the car, the condition and approximate age of the subject, and the make, model and color of my car as well as the fact that I had my flashers on so the cops would know where to stop. Totally calm and collected the whole time.
The dispatcher had to keep me on the line until the fire-rescue guys showed up.
"They coming from Banneker?" I asked, like the complete geek I am in any and all situations.
"Uh... yeah," he said.
"Cool, then they'll be here any minute."
The cop actually rolled up first. He pulled up behind my car with his lights on (a relief, because I was actually pulled over in the right turn lane and had been praying no one would hit my car) and then checked inside it, thinking that's where the guy was. Uh, no. I waved him over to where I was next to the guy's car. I gave him the brief rundown--that I'd seen this guy in his car in the same spot two hours ago and that he wasn't responsive. The cop pounded on the window. Nothing. He opened the guy's car door (which I wouldn't have dared to try, since I didn't know what kind of issues this guy was having and I didn't like the thought of maybe having a dead body fall on me) and shook him. Nothing. The cop was trying to find his pulse when the fire truck got on scene and the paramedics took over.
They did find his pulse, and what's more they found a likely culprit: a half-empty fifth of whiskey on the floor of the passenger side. They guy still hadn't opened his eyes but he was shifting his feet around a bit and moving his hands. He still wasn't responding properly even for someone drunk off his ass, so they suspected that he might have been having a diabetic emergency or that he'd had a seizure. It took them a little while (since he was a pretty hefty drunk old dude) but they wrestled him out of the front seat and onto the stretcher. The cop meanwhile was copying the information from my driver's license onto his notepad and questioning me. It entertained me to be referred to as a witness. I told him that I work in traffic so I'm used to looking twice at cars on the side of the road and I've covered my share of roadside medical emergencies.
"Well it's a good thing you stopped," he said. "On a rainy day like this we're so busy that we don't have time to stop and check on cars that are pulled over onto the shoulder and not causing a traffic problem. You may have saved his life."
I shrugged, feeling a blush of either embarrassment or pride or some combination of the two warm my cold, rain-soaked skin. "Yeah, well, I just hope he's okay."
They had loaded the guy into the ambulance and the cop said I could go. I got back into my car, manuevered around the assembled emergency equipment and pulled back onto Broken Land Pkwy.
I'd gone through two more traffic lights before the weight of what the cop had said settled on me. You try not to think of mortality or in terms of life-or-death situations, but there it was. By the time I got home my hands were trembling like leaves.