Scissors for Life

When we hear the phrase 'Life saving' we immediately think 'Doctor' or 'Paramedic' and we often forget about the little guys. I am a lifeguard by trade, and by hobby a Lifeguard instructor. An under estimated profession, as we are often looked at as lazy baby sitters and act as janitors for the pool. The unknown skill hidden behind these two facades are indeed exactly what you want to have sitting in that chair, watching you swim in that pool, where nothing ever happens. This if often when, something does happen.

There are many scenarios that a lifeguard would be reliant on a good pair of scissors. Cutting roller gauze while bandaging up a wound. Cutting hair that got tangled in a ladder, or knotted up in a pair of goggles. Maybe someone spilled chemical all down the front of them, and we need to cut the clothing off. All of these situations can managed with a little focus, a calm demeanor and a good pair of scissors. However, there are some life threatening scenarios where scissors play an instrumental role in the 'Life saving' chain. Applying the Automated External Defibrillator (AED) is one situation where this holds true.

When the AED is needed, it is for the most likely case of an unconscious, not breathing patient. In these moments, the patient is dead. We need to act fast in exposing the chest to get the pads directly on the skin. Any seamstress knows what a good pair of scissors means when cutting clothing. I know what you're thinking "But you're at a pool, people are in their bathing suits" This isn't always true. Sometimes they are clothed in the changeroom, with winter layers on like a Sherpa fleece pull over. Or perhaps they're in the parking lot coming from their job site wearing Carhartt canvas coveralls. For every minute that goes by with out an AED, the survival rate depletes by 10%. Time is really of the essence. Once we have the AED applied, it will hopefully determine that a shock is necessary. This gives us the greatest hope of life.

The first time I was faced with this situation, I was 18 years old and still a rookie. I was called to the tennis courts, where an elderly man had fallen. Naturally, I grabbed my first aid kit, my oxygen tank and headed out. The complex was huge, and a 5-7 minute response time for first aid assistance was normal. Halfway there I hear over the radio they were now needing CPR. Luckily my back-up heard the same call and started towards me, while the Duty Manager on the other side of the complex grabbed the AED and followed suit. My casual walk became a run, and my equipment suddenly turned heavy. Once I arrived to the courts and saw the man on the ground - I dropped everything, and bee-lined it to the patient while leaving all my equipment behind. Falling to my knees, my hands landed in the perfect landmark on his chest and the counting began. All I could do was compression only CPR. I had no pocket mask to breath, and no AED. What a rookie mistake that was.

No one prepared me for what I would feel, or witness during this event. The color of his skin was a pale yellow tone, and his eyes glazed and lifeless. The sound of wheezing and gurgling as you compressed his chest, like squeezing an empty water squirt toy. I tried not to notice, but I just kept starring him in the eyes as I kept compressing. Finally my back-up had arrived, and thankfully she grabbed all the equipment I had dropped. She put on her gloves, got out her pocket mask and started to breath for him. I was grateful staying on the chest as leaning in to breath was not appealing. The Duty Manager still had not arrived, and the AED was not there yet. We went on for what felt like hours, time was so estranged, we had no clue what was going out outside of this mans fight for life. In the next moments EMS arrived, calm cool and collected with no panic. They set their AED on the ground and started getting ready to take over. They told me "You're doing great, a little bit faster." The chest cavity was putting up a good resistance and I was exhausted, yet I tried to go faster.

Once all of their equipment was in place, they took over breaths from my back-up immediately, and instructed me "When you are done this set of compressions, I will take over". 6 and 7 and 8 and 9 and 30, Done. I am off the chest now, watching from the outside as they continued. My legs are jelly, my hands are numb and my stomach is knotted. As if it's slow motion, he takes his Paramedic Shears and cuts the mans clothing. Those two simple blades on his pair of scissors is the first step into the AED process. This man has a real chance now, we did continuous CPR, and now they have the AED one and ready. The AED sends out a loud signal indicating it is charging. Without hesitation, the Paramedic pressed the flashing button and shocks the patient. The body jolts, stiffens and goes back limp as quickly as it took for the paramedic to press the button. They pack him up on the stretcher, load all the equipment and wheel out as they continue CPR. It's just my back-up, the Duty Manager - who had got there after EMS and myself left.

Am I breathing? Am I even here? Did that really happen? The sound of my breath is heavy and slow and my eyes are 'deer in the headlight' blank. I am trembling all over, my heart is racing and I can't seem to grasp reality. The next moments were a blur. To this day I don't remember getting changed, or how I got home. I was in a complete state of shock and was told to take the rest of the day off. No one offered to drive me home, or if I had anyone to talk to. Critical Incident Stress was still an up and coming topic back then. I had barely heard of it and yet I was expected to perform in what could be a high pressure situation daily when I report for duty. The pendulum swing of emotions started that night. From feeling important, purposeful and righteous in my action, to the extreme of a complete failure and I should have done more to bring him to life. The emotional flip/flop lasted for days. All I could do was breathe and keep telling myself I did my absolute best.

This life altering event is what catapulted me into my Lifeguard career. It was during the healing process that I decided I wanted to be there for the preparation of future lifeguards. I wanted to tell them the reality of the their job responsibility, and what the worst case scenario could be. They needed to be aware of all the sights and sounds, the emotional flip/flops and how to move through the healing. It's imperative in our industry, we are unrecognized and underestimated, while having some of the biggest responsibility. We may not have as much training as a Paramedic or a Doctor, but we have to be able to respond in an instant. We don't have dispatch telling us what we are walking into, or a chart to read before we make decisions. We are watching for these events in real time and we are expected to deal with them appropriately, making snap judgement calls.

As I started my journey into Lifeguard instructing, it humbled my approach to life. Prior when I was only lifeguard, I used to have a prideful sense in my profession. Bragging about the physical standards I had to maintain and how fast I was. The situations I had dealt with, and putting emphasis on my 'hero' aspect. As I moved through becoming a teacher, I realized my purpose. It wasn't to put myself on a pedestal or for money, it was for the the community. It's so families have the opportunity to play somewhere safe for their children. It's so seniors can relax and enjoy the simple pleasures knowing they are taken care of. Most importantly, it's for the Lifeguards themselves. It's so they can feel confident in making those snap judgements, and feel prepared to deal with the emotions that are part of it. I teach lifeguards, in hopes to making pools and communities a safer place for all.