A Day in the Life

Walking to work this morning, just past London Bridge, I saw a silver Audi A6 pull over to the side of the road with its hazard lights flashing. As traffic and buses pulled around it I took a look at the driver to see why he had stopped and was rather surprised to see that he appeared to be unconscious, his head sloped between the driver-side window and his headrest. His engine was running.

Odd place to take a nap, I thought to myself. Then the engine started whining as his foot fell against the pedal. I rapped my knuckles on the passenger side window. “Excuse me, are you alright?” No response. I repeated the question a little louder. I started to fish in my pockets for my phone. A young woman walking by joined me to see what was going on.

“Is he alright?” Possibly South African, I thought. I shook my head. “I think he’s passed out”. We both started talking to the driver to try and elicit a response. This time he awoke and looked at us, clearly disoriented and not sure what he was doing parked at the side of the road. He lifted his foot off the gas. He made a few motions as if to try and drive away. “Hey, take it easy, rest a litle bit. Are you alright?” I asked him. He nodded, tried to say something, and a worried look crossed his face. He then shook his head and then promptly passed out again.

“That’s it, I’m calling an ambulance,” the woman said and dialed 999. A brief conversation and a short while it was on its way. “Will you wait with me, until it comes?” she asked me. I nodded. So we waited by the car, watching the driver’s chest to make he didn’t stop breathing. I turned off the engine and she unbuckled his seatbelt and loosened his tie. I took a look at him. Late 40s. Somewhat overweight, balding, suit. Spare shirts and jackets hanging in the back, along with papers, books and some kids toys in the backseat. Coffee travel mug and cellphone in its charger. The hundreds of pedestrians crossing the bridge on their way to work streamed past us, casting the occasional curious glance.

“Oh my god, he’s having seizures,” she said. I peered inside and saw his head lurching forward like he was going to throw up. I tried to remember my CPR training from college. I took a deep breath and heard a siren in the distance. At last. About 15 minutes. Hopefully not too late.

Soon we were surrounded by paramedics and police and the flow of traffic across the bridge was stopped while he was removed from his car into the waiting ambulance. I put my arm on my companion’s shoulder and she turned to me. I looked in her eyes. “You did good.” She smiled shakily and I saw the fear cross her face now that the crisis had passed. I felt like hugging her with relief.

I returned her smile, took a last look at the scene, now already folding away to be swallowed into the London morning without a trace, and said with a wave, “I have to go to work.”

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