A life

I was sitting at a patients house yesterday. We were talking about his family, his friends, and his illness. He had the television on in the background. His daughter and his friend pointed out the news. The headline talked about a fatal accident. A young woman was killed. One of the family members commented about how they were glad they were not stuck in that traffic.

They continued on with their discussion of family. I kept thinking about their statement. Really? Traffic? The news said someone died and that was their response? I was a little shocked that in the face of death of their own family member a family can be so casual towards the death of another human being.

This morning, I found out that this accident took the life of my co-worker's niece. She was seven months pregnant. As I listened to her tears and hugged her with all my might, I thought back to that family. This was a life.

There was another car accident yesterday. This one took the life of one of my coworkers. He was driving one of our vans and in an instant, he was gone. I was reading the news stories on line and was again shocked by the comments. So many people talked about distracted drivers and tractor trailers. Nothing in this story said either driver was distracted. I was baffled. You can see in the picture of the accident, the side of our van that says, "living better with Community Hospice." The story discussed he was one of our employees. We are a huge hospice, I can imagine we have cared for some of the loved ones who commented such harsh things under that story. This was a life.

Today, I am driving down Blanding to another patients house. I'm in the right hand lane and there on the sidewalk is a man. He is laying flat on his back, bags everywhere around him, and a bike that look wrecked. He is not moving. I pull over to a parking lot as fast as I could. I have to walk a bit to reach him down the side walk. As I walked around my car a store owner came out and yelled, "we've already called 911." I asked if the man had responded to him. The store owner admitted he hadn't actually checked on him. He again stated he called 911 a few minutes ago and they should be here soon. I simply start walking towards the man and the store owner tells me to be careful. Really? He does not appear to be conscious, in broad daylight, in front of a bank, and eight lanes of traffic. I think I should check on him. The owner goes with me and after a series of events too long to type, the paramedics arrive. I give them what little information the now talking, incoherent, drunk man with seizures has given to me and I go on my way. As I walk back up the sidewalk it occurred to me that this store owner had said he called 911 several minutes before I stopped. Eight lanes of traffic for several minutes, I bet hundreds of cars drove by a man obviously hurt on a sidewalk. This is a life.

I'm always a bit on the cynical side. But tonight, I am in awe. When did we get so cold and so shallow? When did we get so busy and scared? When did we stop being so shaken by death. Wait, we didn't. We are only shaken by death when it directly impacts us. Otherwise, we complain about the traffic, assume someone is fine, and keep on rushing through life.

In a way, I'm glad that traffic gets backed up when there is a fatal accident. I think it's the only way some of us will pause. Which is very, very, sad.

We are all just one life.