Went to the grocery store today with The Boy. When he asked me where I wanted to have dinner, as usual, I couldn't give a sure answer. "KFC?", he asked. I said noooooo. My mind associated KFC with adrenalin rush bordering on panic.
Two weeks ago, The Boy and I were at KFC. He was standing in line at the counter while I reserved a table for us. I was doing some people-watching for a few minutes. I saw my college classmate pass by and when I gestured to call him, the girl seated in the next table poked me. "Miss..", she said. Then she slumped on the table. I noticed she looked pale and she was sweating. On her tray, she had large coke and the number for her order. She didn't look at me, so I thought it was something else.
This was what I honestly thought she was up to. She was attracting my attention and when I get distracted, an accomplice would swing by, grab my bag and run away.
So because I had this notion, I was observing the twenty-something girl seated on the next table while clutching my bag close to my body. Suddenly, the girl talked to me and said, "I can't breathe." I told her to relax, sit up straight and take deep breaths. I noticed she was grasping her tummy. When she sat up straight, she was kicking and flailing her arms frantically. She was panicking. I stood up, my bag still hooked on my shoulder, and bent over to talk to her. She said she couldn't breathe. I told her to sit straight, inhale, exhale. I instructed her to take a sip of coke, just so she could feel something on her lips. When I placed the cup near her lips, she sipped and suddenly, she collapsed.
Her head hit the table and I shouted for help. My mind was racing, trying to remind myself of my training as a nurse, what to do in times like this. I was trying to hold her up but everything happened so fast. She slipped from her chair then fell on the floor. People came rushing towards us, most of them were bystanders. And yes, amidst it all, my handbag was still tucked in my armpit. For a second, I got annoyed at how people could just dare to stare and not do anything. Suddenly, I had an adrenalin rush, I inserted my arms under her armpits scooped her up from the floor, and placed her on a chair. I checked her pulse and her breathing, while praying and hoping that I didn't have to do CPR. Alas, she had pulse and breathing. At that point, another customer who was a doctor, approached the scene and instructed us what to do. The girl's legs were elevated above the level of the heart. Some old lady came near and smothered the girl with some menthol oil, from the nose to the neck and even to my hands. I thrusted her jaw open. She was breathing. I gently tapped her face and said, "Wake up Miss, wake up!"
Minutes later, she woke up. She said she was fine, though she was very pale and sweating. At that point, I saw her belongings on the floor. I picked up her money and her cellphone, and asked her who to contact. After sending a message to the number she dictated to me, the restaurant crew took over. Moments later, her boyfriend came to the rescue. And yes, after everything that happened, my bag was safe between my armpits.
When The Boy finally got our order, he told me was shocked to see me in the scene. He thought there were two girls quarreling or something. While we were eating, I could feel my heart pumping wildly with what just happened. Is this some sort of calling? God's way of telling me to go back to the nursing profession?
The girl shyly thanked me for helping her. There I felt an old familiar strain. I remembered that feeling, something that tells you, "Yes, you did something right."
I'm no hero, I'm no activist. But at that time, I certainly felt the need for something I am capable of providing. I hope the girl finds it in her heart to pay it forward, just as I did.
Today, though I am thankful for what happened, anything KFC sends an alarm through out my body. Maybe I am not ready for so much adrenalin rush just yet.
