Forty hands shot up pointing towards the bottom of the old twisty slide following the long dreadful whistle no one ever wants to hear. Two other lifeguards and I jumped up off the shaded break bench and rushed towards the scene with the heavy backboard and AED bag in hand. The routine save played like a movie through my head as I arrived. I stopped. I knew from there on out this wasn't going to be emotionally an easy save. It wasn't a child who swallowed too much water or an adult who got nervous because they forgot how to swim, it was a fellow lifeguard, a friend. As she was pulled out of the water by the two guards that witnessed her slip underneath the water's surface, I realized it was my turn. I aggressively unzipped my fanny pack where
...risk your life. You yourself utter the words that for years have never ceased echoing through my nights and that I shall at last say though your mouth: “O young woman, throw yourself into the water again so that I may a second time have the chance of saving us both!” (147)
Immediately my adrenaline kicked in and I began to go into shock. For three years I was trained to handle medical dilemmas and seizures, but this was real. After a ten second panic attack subdued, I allowed my training to commence. I asked a witness to call 911 and I jumped to aid by checking her vitals to make sure she was breathing and still alive. Lifeguards and I rolled her onto her side and monitored the length of the convulsions and eventually medics arrived and took over the scene. This lady survived this catastrophe and returned to the park less than a week later and found me, she was extremely grateful for myself and the lifeguard that aided her. The gratitude and appreciation she expressed made me enjoy and respect my
Survival is a basic human instinct. However, as a bombardier in WWII, Louis Zamperini endured endless combat missions where he was forced to go beyond “basic instincts” and fight hard simply to survive. His real fight, however, began on May 37, 1943, when his B-24D plane, Green Hornet, plummeted into the Pacific Ocean. Trapped inside the fuselage, Zamperini plunged into the bone-chilling water and rapidly began to sink. His attempts to escape were futile, and he quickly lost consciousness. Miraculously, however, he awoke from his stupor and swam to the water’s surface where he “burst into dazzling daylight. He gasped in a breath and immediately vomited...he had survived” (Hillenbrand 127). He, along with two other crew members, spent several weeks in inadequately-supplied, inflatable rafts, drifting to wherever the ocean’s currents desired. Forty-seven excruciating days passed before they, now only Zamperini and one
33 feet up, looking down at the water, trying to determine if this trick will make or break a diver from the rest of his or her career is a heart pounding experience. He jumps, spins, flips, and then hurdles 62 miles per hour toward the unforgiving water head first. The loud splash the diver makes as he enters the water perfect. He disappears into the dark obis of the water for what feels like forever, as he mentally prepares himself for either applause or boos. He finally has no choice but to come up. The room is silent as his head breaks the surface of the water. Then before he has time to recollect what is going on the room busts into cheers and applause, he looks at the score board and sees his name move up from third to first place. The adrenaline rushing through a divers veins, the anticipation till he enters the water, all of this makes diving the best sport in the whole world and Britain definitely knows this.
There were less than twenty-five people in the water, so I was guarding by myself while the other lifeguards took a break. I took note of a woman who was in the water with three children under the age of ten years old. The children looked to be average swimmers for their age, but the mediocre supervision of their guardian concerned me. Ten minutes into my shift, I heard a scream for help from the deep end of the pool. As I turned around, I saw a young girl flailing her arms and struggling to keep her head above the water. It was one of the children that I had been keeping an eye on. I immediately jumped towards her and landed behind her, much to my own surprise. She was at least five metres away from me, but the apparent rush of adrenaline allowed me to jump right to her. I grabbed her around her waist and sat her on my hip in the standard lifeguard carry. I made my way to the side of the pool deck where my supervisor was waiting to help me reassure the child and report the
My feet make a deep, loud, knocking sound as I slowly walk up the wooden stairs, slick with water. The lifeguard on duty hands me a blue life jacket and I slip it over my black and teal bathing suit.
There are an estimated 8,000 deaths per year in the United States from drowning. Near-drowning occurs anywhere from 2-20 times more frequently (for estimated 16,000-160,000 events per year)7. The definitions for drowning and near-drowning have for the longest time been very confusing to understand. Recent health officials have attempted to resolve some of this confusion by redefining drowning as “the process of experiencing respiratory insufficiency or difficulty following a submersion or immersion in a body of liquid.” Near-drowning has also been redefined as “survival from a drowning event which involved impaired consciousness or water inhalation for 24 hours or more”2. Both near drowning and near-drowning occur when someone experiences a submersion event. A submersion event is when someone, in this case a pediatric patient, experiences an unexpected submersion in water. When an unexpected submersion, regardless of water type (salt or fresh) occurs, the individual experiences breath hold, panic, and a struggle to resurface1. Humans, naturally, can only hold their breath for a short period of time. This prolonged breath hold results in hypoxia and eventually leads to involuntary gasping. As the individual attempts to gasp for air they sometimes aspirate7. This paper will attempt to look at the clinical presentation of a near-drowning patient who has suffered from a submersion event.
About four minutes later the plane is in the water and I hear many people screaming. Jeff and I leave the cockpit and I instruct him and the rest of the crew to start an evacuation. One of the flight attendants leg is bleeding. I see water coming down plane. I begin to walk the length of the plane to see if there are any people still in the plane. No one the first time though. I begin to do it again. After about five minutes of looking. I exit the plane. Go up to Jeff and ask if everyone is okay.
the building towered over the water. As I looked at the building I was informed the only way to reach the top was to climb the tree next to it. Sighing, I started the climb to the top. Wedging myself between the building and the tree, I moved one foot at a time. It was a slow process, but after about three minutes of hard work my feet were safely on top of the building. Drenched in sweat, I started preparing for the dive. I was the only one of five to make the climb and I stood at the top by myself. My bravery and determination had put me here and I was hoping these traits were going to allow me to escape the situation. With no safe way down, I was left with one option. Looking over the edge my breath was taken away. My heart was beating and my muscles were tightening up. Without thinking I leaped and fell the 65 feet into the
needed assistance I would be there for. I was called The Floater because I was able to jump into
When he came out of the slide he was face down passive. I slide in and performed the appropriate skills by preventing his head from moving. The secondary guard Jess helped me back broad him. After EMS arrived the audit ended, and my managers were impressed with skills. My second summer wasn’t as significant the only difference was I had become a water safety instructor in the fall, but I always seemed to impress my managers because I got a 50-cent raise at the end of the summer. Halfway through my third summer I was prompted to a manager. It was tricky figuring out the pump room and chemicals, and being 16 with a lot of authority was a thing to notice in the city.
I could see other people jumping off and screaming while they fell towards the water. The noise from the screams was making it worse for me as it was causing my stomach to tighten and making me feel sick. So I decided to take the easy way out of this situation without embarrassing myself in front of my friends. “Yes, ok” I said nervously. “But, only if you jump first.” I added. He said “fine” then got off his bike and put it down and said to look after it. He then made his way to the side of the bridge and stood up on the rail. He waved to us and then he just jumped. No fear or hesitation. He just jumped! I was amazed and then I hear a splash. Oh no! So much for the easy way out of this situation. I had assumed that he would decline and it would be left at that. We watched him swim back to the shore and then he went out of sight. I knew it was my turn next.
The smoke was choking me. I could see a faint outline of a face across the deck. It was Tom, my lifelong friend and companion. He was completely surrounded by the bright flames."Tom are you OK!!""Yeah, but the fire has me surrounded!""Tom jump overboard, hurry!""But....but....""Do it quick, hurry!"I hit the surprisingly cold water with a crash.
On my second dive, I yanked the w-shaped anchor from the sand, as if it was a trap door. After that, I propelled my way up to about four inches underneath the surface of the water. Suddenly I started to run out of breath, so I lobbed the 40-pound w-shaped anchor through the water towards the shore. When I reached the surface, I was gasping for air, trying to catch my breath, like a dog after a run on a hot
The first person to come across after me was Jacob Otagee. Jacob was one of the youngest scouts in the group, and was much smaller than most of us. He worked hard, but by the end of the day, you could see his energy was quickly fading. On top of all of this, Jacob had issues with his gear, especially his boots. A good pair of boots is extremely important, and unfortunately for Jacob, the soles on his had begun to come apart, being held on with duct tape. Everything went fine as Jacob made his way across the first half of the stream. It was a few feet past the middle, when Jacob took a bad step and slipped on a rock submerged under the water. He lost his footing, and within half a second, he had gone down. The water, which had been at his waist, was now at his chest. The force of the water was crushing against him, and the added pressure was pulling hard against me, as I put all of my weight against it, trying to hold him against the water. In those terrifying fractions of a second, I felt myself slipping, and thought I was not going to be able to hold on. I could see the fear in Jacob’s eyes as he scrambled to regain his balance. He knew what would happen if he was pulled downstream. After what seemed like a very long time, Jacob was able to wade closer to shore, and I reached out, grabbed his arm, and pulled him up onto the