Little Squirrels Can Climb Tall Trees, Michael Murphy [best books to read for self development .txt] 📗

of rows toward the back of the plane. There was no mistaking which person was in trouble when we reached the back of the plane. Kyle identified himself to the man and his wife as he reached down, took the man’s hand, and checked his pulse. He repeated the move with the arteries in the man’s neck.

He unbuttoned the man’s shirt and used the cheap stethoscope the airline carried to listen to the man’s heart from several angles. Rising, he quietly spoke to a flight attendant, asking if there was someplace they could lay the man down flat, and also if they had an automatic defibrillator device onboard. There was no ideal place onboard a crowded plane, so Kyle and I lifted the man out of his seat, moved him back a few rows, and placed him on the floor near the restrooms.

The flight attendant produced the defibrillator device. Kyle opened the man’s shirt all the way and placed the various patches on the man’s chest as directed by the device. Its patches in place, the device started analyzing the data it was collecting. By this point the man had lost consciousness and was unresponsive when Kyle tried to ask him some questions.

“What’s this thing?” I asked.

“An AED, or automated external defibrillator. It’s a portable electronic device that automatically diagnoses a potentially life-threatening irregular heartbeat. It’s able to treat them by applying a controlled electrical shock, which hopefully stops the arrhythmia and allows the heart to reestablish a steady, productive rhythm.”

“Cool.”

“The introduction of these things and their widespread adoption has meant that people who have heart problems can get help a lot faster and more accurately than ever before. Anyone can figure out how they work—the machine guides you each step of the way, and there aren’t that many steps involved.”

Lowering my voice slightly, I said, “You really are an awesome man, Kyle.”

“I knew that. You just now figuring it out?”

I simply smiled at my partner, proud of him in this situation and proud of how far he had progressed in his personal self-image and sense of self-worth.

Our conversation was interrupted when the machine started beeping loudly and ordered everyone to stand clear of the patient and the device. The only time I had ever seen an electrical shock applied to a person’s heart had been on TV drama shows, so I expected to see the man on the floor flop around like a fish out of water, but Kyle assured me that that only happened on TV and in the movies. In reality the process was much less exciting.

The machine announced that a sinus rhythm had been restored and that it was once again safe to approach the patient. It also instructed someone to call 911 and to get the person to an emergency room immediately.

Kyle looked up at the array of flight attendants who were gathered around the unexpected event unfolding before their eyes. They were all trained in the usage of the AED but were delighted to have a doctor onboard who could handle that plus a lot more.

“How far to the nearest ER?”

“A couple of hours at least,” one answered. She picked up the intercom and called the cockpit to get a more accurate estimate of how long it would take to get to the closest medical facility that could handle this type of an emergency.

She hung up and reported that we were approximately 101 minutes from the closest medical facility. We had passed the halfway point over the ocean and had no choice but to proceed to Hawaii. The pilot and Kyle conferred by phone and decided that the medical facilities in Honolulu were probably better suited to handle this case. The pilot notified air traffic control that we had an in-flight medical emergency and needed to come directly into Honolulu as quickly as possible and that we needed an ambulance waiting.

In the meantime, though, we had nearly two hours to watch over the sick man. Kyle asked if there were seats anywhere that were empty so we could lay the man down on them and get him out of the way of the bathrooms. Unfortunately the flight was completely full, so there were no empty seats.

“The seats up in first recline, don’t they?” he asked suddenly, remembering something he had heard me say earlier.

“Yes, but they’re full too.”

“Let’s put him in my seat, 1A. That’ll get him at the front for quick exit when we finally get on the ground.”

The flight attendants produced a chair-like device. The key thing was that we could get it down the cramped aisle of the coach cabin. Kyle and I got the man up off the floor and onto the chair. A flight attendant carried the AED, and another flight attendant got on the PA system and asked everyone to clear the aisle—the incident had attracted a fair amount of attention. People throughout the plane were straining to get a glimpse of what was happening. People surprisingly obeyed, and a pathway cleared through the aisle.

It wasn’t easy by any means, since the guy was not a lightweight, but working together, Kyle and I were able to slowly carry him in the chair-like device up the aisle of the airplane toward the front. Of course, with absolutely impeccable timing, the plane hit a patch of rough air when we were about halfway to the front. The seat belt sign came on, but Kyle and I had no choice but to keep moving forward.

Our job got easier when we reached the business-class cabin, where the aisle was a bit wider. By the time we reached first, our arms were aching from the strain and our own hearts were racing. We recruited some help to move the man onto the seat since I don’t think either of us had any strength left in our arms at that point in time.

A flight attendant worked the controls and fully reclined the seat. They fastened a seatbelt on the man and covered him with