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The Cut On My Left Palm

6/16/2020

9 Comments

 
Looking down at my hand this afternoon, I noticed that the large cut on my left palm has healed. It took a few days, but I’m relieved to know that it is much better. In the time it took for me to look it over, memories of the car accident my son had a few years ago began to fill my mind. It took months for him to recover. It was a trauma for him, for all of us. The process of changing bandages, keeping him comfortable and calm is all I focused on those few months. That was not as important as having had him survive it all. He was alive and had both of his legs. All he needed was to heal and learn to walk again. It is as far as my mind will allow me to return to that experience, so my memories push further back to a class I took in high school.

I remember sitting in an auditorium sized classroom, looking down at my health teacher, as he began to tell a story. It must have been a unit on first aid... I really don’t remember that part well. The memory of my teacher telling a story that day is like a photograph etched in my mind. He wanted to help us understand the importance of staying calm during emergencies. He could have easily gone down a list of things to do and things not to do, in case of an emergency. Instead, he chose to tell a story.

On his drive to work one morning, he encountered a bad car accident. The accident happened only seconds ahead of him and help would not arrive for at least another few minutes. He decided to stop to help. As he walked up to one of the cars in the accident, he found a woman in the driver's seat. Her face had either gone through the windshield or somehow the glass cut her face. She had serious and numerous facial lacerations. “The skin on her face hung off in pieces,” I remember him telling us. She was bleeding and the loss of blood would have quickly caused her death. “Am I going to die?” she called out to him at the sound of his footsteps. He was surprised to find her conscious.

At this point I remember he interrupted the story to explain the beating of the heart, and how blood pumps faster when a person is in fear or panic. He needed to calm her down to slow her heart rate and keep her alive.

“You are going to be okay,” he calmly told her. His words to her were assuring. He needed to calm her from panic. She began to breathe and calm to the sound of his voice. This, he told us, was most important. If he could not get her to calm, her heart rate would continue rising, possibly causing her to bleed to death. He removed her from the vehicle, positioned himself behind her, and used both of his hands to hold her face together and slow the bleeding.

The image of my teacher saving this person’s life was ingrained permanently in my mind. I sat, fully engaged, listening. I could easily visualize the accident. Accidents on the Los Angeles freeways were a daily occurrence. Each student in that classroom connected well with that fact.

And so, as the image of my teacher holding this woman’s life in his hands sat in my mind, my expectation for an ending was that he saved her. I immediately began to wonder if he kept in contact with her, the woman he saved.

Instead, the story continued. As he sat talking calmly to the life he held in his hands, a man walked up, took one look at the woman, and yelled out, “Oh my God! Is she dead?”

He may have continued a bit more with sharing how he wanted to punch the guy in the face, but that part of it remains a bit fuzzy. We would have all understood why he would possibly feel that way. Most importantly, we understood the importance of staying calm in an emergency.
​

I don’t remember my teacher’s name, but I do remember this story he shared about 34 years ago. What he did that morning prepared me for what was to come many, many years later. So, I am grateful for the story—grateful that my teacher decided to share this story that sunny spring morning, instead of a checklist.

My son, Adam, is all healed, like the cut on the palm of my hand. And I am grateful for that, too.
9 Comments
Stacey link
6/16/2020 04:45:09 pm

I felt myself breathless as I read this story, wondering what happened to the woman when the man -- unknowingly -- disturbed the calm.

It's hard to remain calm in tense situations. When our JCC had a bomb threat called in a few years ago, I remember telling a college friend of mine that I didn't pick up my daughter from her school. Isabelle questioned my decision. I told her she was safe. That's when my dear friend reminded me that kids need calm parents. She applauded me, when I doubted myself, for staying calm. It was so, so hard to do. In hindsight, I knew I made the right choice, but when my Kindergartener questioned my "calmness" (i.e., my word, not hers) I recall feeling bad that I didn't react more.

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Marina link
6/17/2020 09:58:17 pm

I wondered what happened to her myself. He may have shared that part, but I don't remember much else of that story.

You are so right, it is hard to stay calm in situations like those. Kids do need to see us calm. That bomb threat story is something. Some things are hard for little ones to understand at that age, but I can see how she pulled on your heart strings with her question.

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Katina Osth
6/16/2020 06:17:49 pm

Wow! What an impactful lesson and story! I wonder if your teacher ever realized how much of a lasting impression that lesson left on you.
I'm glad your son is OK now. That was scary!

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Marina link
6/17/2020 10:03:34 pm

I don't know that he did realize it. It was much too long ago, but I do remember feeling like he was a good teacher. I had some pretty good high school teachers in Van Nuys, CA : ) I'm so glad my son is okay now, too. Thanks for your comment.

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Denise Krebs link
6/17/2020 10:45:51 am

Wow, what a story about your teacher and a sideways retelling of Adam's story. I'm so glad you learned the lesson from the teacher who saved a life. It helped you to help Adam heal years later. Our mind is interesting how it reminds us of stories. It was your powerful not telling that spoke volumes to me today: "It is as far as my mind will allow me to return to that experience, so my memories push further back to a class I took in high school."

Thank you, and thanks for the prompt yesterday on the Two Writing Teachers site. I like the Willie Nelson quote. I think creativity is what keeps me alive, or at least from getting old! Thanks!

Denise

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Marina link
6/17/2020 10:10:59 pm

Denise, Your comment made me tear up. I didn't realize how difficult it would be for me to write those first few lines. Your calling attention to that made me think. Thank you for that.

I'm so happy you liked the Willie Nelson quote. I liked it too. I feel the same way about creativity. Maybe creativity does keep us from getting old! I love that thought.

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Ramona link
6/17/2020 11:41:49 am

Teachers make such an impression with their words. Glad this teacher used story to make his point and that it stayed with you until you were able to call on its power in a time of need.

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Marina link
6/17/2020 10:16:22 pm

I agree, Ramona. Teachers do make such impressions with their words. Words have such power. I didn't realize that story left such an impact until I wrote about it. Thank you for reading it and sharing your thoughts.

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Kristin Dungan
6/27/2020 02:58:49 pm

Marina,

Thank you for sharing about Adam. I know that you were able to help him heal with your calm presence. That although you surely worried and were fearful, you remained calm through all the trials because of your love for your son.

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