The Last Breath

How many of us have taken CPR/First-Aid courses with the thoughts that we'd never actually have to call upon those skills. I know that was my thought. Well, the worst happened! On Monday 12/28/09 I was in Oregon for the holidays and my sister took me to my niece's brand new condo for me to see before I left back for Boston. She had not yet moved in and was in the process of having new flooring put in. As I entered I bumped in to a guy (he was one of the construction crew) I went to High School with (he was 3 yrs older than I) and had close ties to other members of my family. We spoke briefly and I went on to get my tour. Within 10 minutes his colleague came running in yelling that we needed 911 as "Nelson" was having a heart attack. I didn't think it was real at first, he was in great shape and just 49 years old, but it quickly became all to clear it was very real. My sister Laura and I ran full speed outside to find him keeled over in the back of the construction truck definitely having a heart attack. We both jumped in to the back of the truck and without uttering a word to each other she immediately went to begin chest compressions and I went straight to clear the airway and rescue breathing. It's been at least 10 years since either of us have been certified, but it was unbelievable how the training just came back to us.

We worked on him for at least 10 minutes before the paramedics got there, but I knew we were losing him. I actually remember feeling I took his last breath. Once the medics got there they moved him off the ground and had my sis and I continue working on him while they got set up, so at least we must have been doing something right. My sister was pulled off first as she was tiring quickly from the chest compressions. I was handed the "bag" and continued giving him air that way. Once I was finally pulled off the reality hit me. Though I was not personally close to him I had an intimate interaction with him in trying to save his life. Sadly, the outcome was unfavorable.

It's been exactly one week and I have still not come to grips with what occurred. I would have done the same thing if I had it to do over, but I can't help but second guess myself--did I give him enough breath or did I not get his airway clear enough? The Dr assured my sister and I that we did all we could do and everything correct, but I find little comfort in that as I think about the people who are now mourning a fun-loving, good-hearted man taken all to soon.

I'm now back in Boston and just can't get his face out of my head. I stared directly in his eyes, I felt him take his last breath (which in all reality was probably just my air coming back up). My mouth was filled with his vomit as we aspirated him (and managed not to throw-up until the paramedics took over).

I hope that if he was out of his body, as some believe, that as he watched over us he knew we were really, really trying to bring him back. At the very least I find some comfort that he was not alone and was surrounded by people who knew him and genuinely cared about him, including his best-friend---God I remember how in shock he was as he watched his BF dying, I'll never forget the look on that poor man's face I know how helpless he felt, but he knew my sister and I were doing all we could. He actually has called us "heroes" yet to me a hero would have had a different outcome. I feel guilty, so guilty. Guilty that he died, guilty that I am having such a hard time with it as I really didn't know him as well as others.

I know the chances of lightening striking twice are highly unlikely, but just in case, I will be getting re-certified in Mike Nelson's honor and memory. Rest in Peace sweet man!