Thus far in my lifetime, my MO (modus operandi) has always been to stay and face the fire. (hopefully I won’t degrade into cowardice) And, for some uncanny reason, people like to “spontaneously die around me.” (left myself wide open on that one. Go ahead, boys, take your best shots!!!)
Fortunately, when I was 9 years old, I took a life guards, life saving course at the YMCA. I respected the instructor, because he was a “teenager.” That was an awe-inspiring age to look up to and respect in my generation. I paid attention to everything he taught. I was riveted in the class.
He taught so many methods to revive the dead. There was one maneuver he taught us, “if all else fails.” It’s a bit risky and forceful and could easily break the victim’s ribs. (But, we were taught that broken ribs heal and death doesn’t)
On two occasions the method of embracing the victim heart to heart and throwing “Mike Tyson-like”haymakers, pounding on their back, has served me well in reviving a small child and an elderly man. Other situations called for different methods. (The particular scene unfolds before you, and you are like a QB calling audibles)
But, psychologically, when faced with situations of reviving someone on the precipice of death, all thinking, planning, and analytics just cease. The present catastrophe calls every part of me into spontaneous action. There is just no thought of running and hiding.
The mere presence of another human being that suddenly became lifeless, always triggers in myself a massive surge of boundless emotion and energy that is extremely one-pointed.
In most cases, for myself, and I don’t know why, “intense anger” also arises, like I am battling “death,” an entity, that came to cause mischief. I really feel anger and hate for the premature presence of “The Grim Reaper.” It’s the feeling that you were born only for this single moment, a bout with death, to save this life. Everything else seems petty.
One victim suddenly became lifeless and his friends just decided that it was just his time to peacefully go. That “rage” filled me as I grabbed the body to perform life support. And, the two friends tried to push me away. I had to continue pumping the victim and fight off two guys preventing me from resuscitating him. I was aggressive and from a different culture and they didn’t like the way I aggressively performed the techniques. I screamed “your friend will die!!!” I kept on reviving the victim, under their protests and attempts to restrain me, until consciousness was regained.
But, the topic here is death by overdose. And, I can tell you by experience, that an OD death is extremely painful. In my experience, you don’t just peacefully slip away.
I was in a hospital recovery room once after an operation. They tapped my vein and overdosed me with an IV of some opiate-based painkiller. Immediately, my vitals plummeted. (allergic reaction, I guess) The pain is so indescribably treacherous. Like crashing repeatedly into the pavement 100 miles an hour and being forced, unsuccessfully, to penetrate the pavement consciously. The problem is that you are so extremely alive and vital and you experience intensely life being ripped away from you, so violently and brutally, unrelentingly and unmercifully.
So, my advice is not to walk away. Save a life. Save a great painful suffering for another human being. Guaranteed your good karma will return to you in your moment of need when you are helpless.
Life is queer that way. You are vitally strong in one moment, and then suddenly you are helpless, totally dependent on the mercy and salvation of another.