there are days that i truly hate myself for always being responsible
so when i paddled out last monday after a weekend of domesticity baking (for the cute boy's birthday) laundry & pretty sure i scrubbed a toilet in between hoards of hand washed dishes
wasn't expecting much wasn't expecting anything
just needed just wanted
to get wet
below freezing air temp 48 degree water crystal clear day 4 @ 13
gaz & i paddled out at finicky's quickly joined by jeff & farmer blake the lone surfinoregon coveting the left at crab pots eventually joined us as link (the other gazza) finally suited up & made his way out
caught a handfull before the chill set in blue & shaking barely able to sit on my board
It didn't surprise me that some woman was yelling at me....asking me if I knew CPR...as I drove up & pulled into the parking lot at Hoyt. I had already pulled over twice on my drive home from work....to let an ambulance and then a firetruck pass. Lots of sirens tonight....I had noted.
I nodded and parked, quickly running down to the small crowd that had gathered. Probably a crap shoot on her part...but none of the other bystanders seemed to offer any knowledge.
There on the cement lay a boy in his early 20s barely breathing and a pale shade of grey.
Does he have a pulse?...I asked.
Yes. Very weak.
Was he working out?
We don't know.
I found him in his car slumped over...offered a gentleman. We carried him out.
Did you call an ambulance?
As I was assessing the situation...the fire truck pulled up. I stepped back as the firemen & emt's began asking the same questions...going about their business of reviving the boy. I could see fresh tracks in his right arm. The firemen also pointed this out...and asked what he had taken.
Nobody knew who he was.
I stood there watching them work....mesmerized. My analytical brain had taken over. No panic. Only questions & curiosity. Analyzing every move they made. Inching closer....to watch & learn.
And...as quickly as the crisis had started....it was over. The ambulance arrived as the boy was rousing. The colour coming back to his cheeks.
So I turned and made my way up the hill.... to 4 miles of empty trail. Thankful for the solitude.