That's all.
I'm not even sure how to actually describe it but here it goes...
Sometimes life throws days at you that you don't expect....And sometimes the lessons you learn from crisis are beautiful.
This morning i had just dropped the boys at school and was headed to work...thinking to myself that I needed more coffee and was not super excited about the day. All the usual grumpy thoughts are flowing "Micah's traveling", "I'm always running late", "I wish I had been able to sleep better last night."
And then I came to an accident. My training instinct kicked in as grumpy thoughts gave way to adrenaline. Long story short, I worked for 30 minutes to revive a worker who had been hit trying to cross the highway.
I failed.
I was shaken, sweaty, dirty, covered in tiny glass shards and feeling helpless and exhausted.
While I've been in these situations before as a physician, there's something different and surreal about doing it outside of the hospital, kneeling on gravel to do chest compressions and praying the ambulance arrives. Groups of people are staring and whispering all while I am robotically doing the only thing I can without success. It's horrible.
As the day has moved on, those moments continue to replay in my head over and over. While sadness (and fatigue) persist, I've realized something else.
The man who died today was a foreign worker in Malaysia. For those who may not understand what that means, it means long, hard work for very little pay all of which gets sent home to their families. It means sleeping in a makeshift kampung, metal containers set up as villages. It means immigration hassles and no legal rights. Don't think of it like foreign workers in the US-that would be luxury for many of these people.
In the part of Malaysia where we live, money is being poured into new construction all around. We see these foreign workers very regularly but it's very much two different worlds that don't mix. Our typically experience to see these workers daily piling onto buses or very often running in this exact spot (and many others) across the highway. I've probably grumbled at them myself for making me slow down as I drive by. Today could be any day, every day in Malaysia.
But when it happened, something changed, and it wasn't just me.
A friend, with no medical background, immediately followed and was by my side. Another ran down the road to direct oncoming traffic out of our way. Others took over cpr when my fatigue caught up. Another started calling ambulances (it's not such a simple process as 911) and working to find an AED. Others took my teaching at work and made sure I had time to recover. Others drove my car back to school and made sure we were cleaned up and okay. Another waited at the roadside for a forensics team to arrive. Many others have offered support, prayers, and condolences throughout the day.
What I saw today is that people cared. In the end, it doesn't matter. We are all the same. It didn't matter that we came from different worlds. It didn't matter that we didn't know who he was. It didn't matter how it happened or who was at fault. It didn't matter that we might be putting ourselves in harms way. We saw someone in need and we tried to help.
It would have been easy to keep driving. In all honesty, I thought about it. But when I looked at his friends who were scared and had no idea what to do, I knew I had to stop. He is someone's family-maybe husband, maybe father. He is working to provide a better life for someone he loves.
Just like I would. We are all the same. We may have been placed in different circumstances and places in the world, but at the core, we are all the same.
Much of what is happening in the world right now is very difficult for me to accept.I've been struggling. I am pained by the discrimination, the indifference to people in need, and especially the justification that can follow. It seems to be everywhere.
But today was different.
Today I saw tragedy but I also saw hope. I saw good people.
Sometimes the loud voices of the world focus so much on the bad, it's easy to lose sight of the good. We see all the hate and anger and fear, but underneath all of that the quiet voices of love and goodness are constant. It's there.
So today.
Today, I grieve for the family and friends of the deceased.
But today I am also thankful for the opportunity to see hope.
Hope can and will grow.
Hope is exactly what I needed today.
