Someone Else's Shoes

So around the same time I was asking lots of questions about why Cory was not given CPR, Jake caught me off guard with his own question on the subject.  He said he'd seen something on tv where someone was hurt, but the ambulance guys were able to save their life.  "Did they try to save Cory with the paddles?"  he wanted to know.


I sat down right where I was, which happened to be the toilet as I had wandered into the bathroom for a tissue.


I called him over to sit on the edge of the tub, and regarded his so young, but so old face.  Silence spun out as I tried to decide what to say.  I couldn't just snap back, "No, they didn't, those good for nothing assholes!".  This was a child I was about to address.  He still believed (at least I think he does), that the world is mostly a good place, and that people are good for the most part.  Could I destroy that innocence and optimism with my own bitter resentments?  When children become jaded, something has gone terribly wrong.


Instead of bashing Lifecare, I asked him a question of my own.
"Jacob, do you know what Cory's injuries were?"


Solemn shaking of his head back and forth.  No.  I guess he wouldn't.  I had knelt before him on the dining room floor, took his face between my hands, and said, "Your sister got hit by a car.  She didn't make it."


"Do you want to know?"  I asked him.


"Yes."  he said immediately, his little face set and watchful.


So I told him, as gently as I could.  The litany of multiple skull fractures(front and back), broken neck, broken arm, and two broken hips flows out of my mouth, but burns my heart every time I say it.  And I explained that although the responders wanted to help, Cory was hurt too badly for the paddles to work.  I didn't give details because I honestly didn't know them at that time.  My revelation after talking to Angie was a few days off at that point.


Here's what happened after that conversation, though.


Jacob nodded solemnly, and accepted this statement- something I've struggled to do since day one. 
I left the room, and started to think about the responders on the scene in a slightly different way.  It wasn't likely that people in those professions do not want to help whenever possible, or that they are lazy or incompetent.  Maybe, just maybe, the lingering and lolly-gagging I saw that day from my point of view was something different entirely.


 Maybe they knew from the second they saw her, that nothing could be done.  Maybe all those lumbering errands back and forth with no real action were just protocol being followed as they did their job.  Maybe the hesitation to tell me she was dead, that nothing could be done or why nothing could be done was their horror and reluctance to change my world forever.  I can't imagine giving that news is an easy thing to do.


Just for a moment, I put myself in their shoes, and tried to see things from someone else's point of view.   I think putting myself behind the wheel of the driver's vehicle will be even harder, but it will have to be done if I am ever to have any peace in this world.