Lisa, what an incredibly human and sensitive story in the face of a scarey situation. I often wondered what I would do in those situations. I have no answer for that. I nearly faint just having my blood taken. But I hope I would have the strength to hold someone's hand when they needed it just as you did. I would hope my human desire to help another person would override my own self protection. And so often, alot of issues come down to self protection/preservation vs risking parts of ourselves.

"Sometimes we forget when people are sick or hurt that what they most need is to feel connected, to be loved, to be touched."

This statement really had an impact on me, Lissa. YOU know! Not many people in our lives understnd that when an illness, a disability or the journey of dying is at hand, that person really needs to feel a connection. The usual behavior of most people is to look away, go away, say someone else will do it or not respond to pleas for that connection.

Thank you for helping this man broken in spirit and body with his last journey.

Christi

Lissa, thank you so much for your words. You did more for that man and for all your readers than all the "equipment" in the world could have done. When I was coming out of anesthesia from a hip replacement, I was distraught and I asked a doctor passing by to please hold my had because I was scared. He said, "I don't have time." Thankfully, someone came by and held it for me. After that surgery, four of my cats died within two weeks and I let them die at home (there was no need for veterinary intervention.) I gave them the space and dignity to die with me. It takes a lot of courage to just sit with our feelings and give someone else the space. In our society most of us are taught to shut the feelings off and bits of us die inside because of that. We seem to be so unconnected to each other. You have touched me so much with your posts and your Inner Pilot Light emails. And kudos to your husband for the message he gave your daughter. Imagine what amazing daughters we would have in this world if more fathers and husbands were like that. Tell him thank you, too.

There is something very important, to me, about not leaving someone to die alone. To witness, to care, to reflect. Yes, we all make that final journey on our own, but knowing someone's 'got our back' and is something of an anchor to what we know feels very essential to me.

Also, it may have been the first time in a very long time that someone was there just for him. People often don't understand how much we need one another, but you know. You made the world better, by being there.

The technology is important, vitally important - but it's only a part of the story. We need love, contact, welcome, connection. Thank you so much for having given that when it was needed most.

I'm sure he knew you were there and took comfort from it, Lissa. That isn't just wishful thinking; it's based on personal experience.

I am not a doctor, but I have twice been present when someone was seriously injured and could not respond. One had been struck by lightning; the other had fractured her skull falling down stairs onto stone paving. Both survived their adventures, and were people I knew, whom I saw afterwards. I did what I could do, hampered less by lack of equipment than by lack of training. Once the EMTs had been called, I sat by them, my hand on a shoulder, talking to them. I don't remember at all what I said, but it seemed important to me to talk, to keep the sound of a human voice flowing. I do remember thinking that if I ran out of things to say, I could always sing.

Each of them told me later that they knew I was there, and thanked me for it. The woman who had cracked her skull told me that she couldn't understand what I was saying, but she was aware of my voice, and that it had kept her from panicking and given her something to focus on, to bring herself back to the waking world.

You have pointed out something very profound. No training or equipment is needed to give love, to be a caring presence. All gods bless you.

Lissa,
Your story reminds me of my first C-section (I've had two). It was my first birth, a planned C-section, although I hadn't originally planned it that way, and all was going routinely well, but I remembered feeling "disconnected" throughout the process. There I was, strapped down to a table and draped extensively while my numb innards were being cut open to help my baby out and into the world. All I could feel was my head and face. It reminded me of my friend who tragically had a diving accident when we were in our mid-20s and he wound up permanently paralyzed from the chest down. Since I am a massage therapist, he would always ask me to massage his head since that was the only place he could really "feel" anyone touching him and he was starving for touch and connection. So, I asked the nurse anesthetist, who was near my head anyway monitoring my condition, to please massage my head to keep me calm. I told him I was an LMT and that it would really help me feel better. He was pleasantly surprised and obliged, saying he'd "never thought of that before." It really made the whole surgery so much calmer and connected for me.

Your touch and presence with this guy by the side of the road was, I'm sure, priceless to him. Even if he wished to die, your touch and grace surely helped to make him feel better. I guarantee you that you made a difference.

You rock,
Laura

Dear, Lissa,
Thank you for being human. Thank you for caring. Thank you for loving. Thank you for being such a great example, not just to your 6 year old daughter, but to the rest of us. Thank you for sharing and being willing to be transparent. And finally, thank you for finally letting go and crying. There is a greater, far reaching benefit to more than just you, in your tears. Tears are our way of finally accepting. A washing of our soul, heart, mind and finally our body. When we finally let go and cry we say "Its okay; I am at peace with the universe."

Be well.
I keep looking for the little miracles in each day. I just found one, here.

HUGGGGGS!!!
Carole

If that was me - I would have wanted you to do exactly what you did. You attended the man's Soul - is there anything more important?

Much Love and Many Blessings
Sharon

Lissa....
thank you for sharing your story.
They say the greatest healer there is, is LOVE! What you did was just so divine....no tools needed....just an open heart with the love flowing out, unconditionally!!!

He, too, is a great teacher. Thank you to that beautiful soul for showing all of us (through you) how to share that love. A simple touch.....an unspoken word.....a tear.....

It just shows how we are all connected to one another through this giant web of life.

Bless you
Hugs

Dearest Lissa,

Though I don't know you and you don't know me--I read you daily. Your heart heals mine regularly. Your ministry and service is constantly shining such a bright light that I feel healed. You cure my apathy--big time. Every single time you tell your story, it cleans the dust off of my soul. God bless you, Sweet Cup of Love and Grace and Mercy.

Deepest gratitude,
Grapessed

I am so grateful that you are YOU and that this soul had a doctor as loving as you with him at his time of transition or healing.

You are one amazing person.

Love,
Amy

Hi Lissa,
As an ex-nurse and someone who worked very closely with people suffering from Leukaemia & other cancers, I felt I watched helplessly at times. In fact the act of simply being there for someone in possibly their last moments is a very beautiful thing. Especially when we are the type of people who truly care and understand the last moments in which we can give comfort are possibly the most powerful.
I once had a man, the same young age as me, hold my hand (after knowing him for 2 years of his cancer journey) and ask what would happen when he died. Gosh it was hard as I am a sensitive wee soul and teared up as I told him my thoughts. I hope it gave him peace and I hope he found comfort in the soft tumbling of my words.
After that job of being a support person, I am now very good at knowing what to say when some people wouldn't have a clue.
Comfort comes with words, touch, smiles, kind and soft eyes and just simply knowing someone deeply cared- as you did with that soul xx

When I first read all these comments after a full day client session with one of my mentoring clients, which kept me away from the internet, my first reaction was "I'm really not so brave." There are so many ways in which I feel like total chicken shit.

And then I remember what one friend once told me about how he handles praise. Instead of deflecting it because it makes him embarrassed or uncomfortable, he says "Thank you for noticing."

So I will say that. I did what my Inner Pilot Light told me to do and I have no regrets. Siena and I were just- once again- talking about it all tonight, and she asks me whether he's an angel yet. I don't know. But I know I did something valuable, if not to him, then to me. Each time I take a brave move to trust that love is enough, I heal myself. And if that helps anyone else in the process, then it's a bonus.

May we all trust that love with an unbridled open heart is the most healing force we know.

I so appreciate you all. You have no idea.
Warm love
Lissa

If I were that man lying on the pavement and no technical medical support was available (or even if it was), I would want you to do exactly what you did.

I think the love you gave to a complete stranger makes you a savior in the best possible way that the word can be used. You are a godsend for doing so and I thank you for the kindness you are bringing to the world.

Love and light.
Helene

Dear Lissa,
I echo the person who said "thanks for your courage". I feel uncertain that I would have stopped. I wish I could be sure I have the courage to do so. But the helplessness, with no equipment, in a beside-the -freeway, head-trauma, with violent & probable death would have made me want to keep going, saying "I am not a paramedic, and I don't have anything to offer." I would have forgotten the love, which you remembered to give. I would probably have thought that it was not enough, and not worth offering in that moment; even though I can believe from the wider perspective you offer in the story that it is always THE ONLY THING THAT MATTERS. I keep forgetting that before the technology there is love; and love and care are the backbone of whatever expertise we put on top of it. I was completely aware of Siena in this story. I was watching through her eyes, too, and thinking about what we learn from watching Mommy. I bless and thank Matt for the instinct that told him to let her see what you do. For him to know that the context of love that you put around that trauma will be the right thing. And that she has the wisdom to know that it is all in God's hands. I bless all of you, for witnessing to me with this heartrending story. I have had to face the possible death of my son 3 times. He is not so stable, and each time it is so frightening, my heart just goes into a frozen place. I remember one story in our heartofmedicine.org postings, where someone just stayed and held the hand of a dying young man in a car accident, when he was inside a car so mangled they could not get him out. His mom was always so grateful that he did not die alone. I also remember stories like this from the battlefield, with dying soldiers cuddling their buddies, so that they will not die alone. If my son is dying, and I can not be there, I pray that God will send someone like you to hold his hand, or put your hand on his heart, to keep him from dying alone. As Rachel always reminds us, it is our humanity which matters, which makes us be "enough" for whatever is happening. This is a very profound story, and I thank you for sharing it. I pray for that young man. I pray for you, my dear friend, and fellow physician. Many Blessings to you.

Thinking of you, your sweet daughter, and the man who you so generously offered your love and loving touch to. Years ago I was deeply impacted by a head-on collision right in front of me while driving the Trans Canada near Northern Ontario. I was behind a 18-wheeler and when the mini-van coming the opposite way starting driving across the lane, everything began to unfold in very slow motion. It was in '96 and I had no cell phone. I don't know what was more deafening...the sound of the crash or the immediate silence that echoed.
As I walked to the wreckage, I remembered thinking "I am so not the person that ought to be the first one on a scene like this one." The baby crying was the first sound of life that came from the heap of twisted metal. The sound of that cry woke me up many times during dream state in the months to follow. Although traumatic for all involved,..I had indeed witnessed a miracle. I met the truck driver also, who was visibly shaken and dumbfounded that both adults and the 3 children were still alive. I believe the driver of the van had fallen asleep. Since that time I have sent many a blessing to truck drivers, families on road trips and especially those that are trained and who devote their lives to serving in crisis. The scenes can be so horrific and still like ants working in a colony,...everyone seems to know what their role is and what to do together as a team to try and save the lives that may well hang in their hands. It must be so intense to do this kind of work day to day...thank God there are people called to do it. And the doctors, nurses, physios, OTs....and all healers...that contribute to the next step once a person arrives to the hospital. I trust this man was well taken care of, whether he transitioned or not. I have heard that
"Synchronicity is the handwriting of God" and your being there affirms that synchronicity was definitely at work.

With love and blessings,

Brenda

Wow. A sucky situation. I believe that he received your love and kindness. I have faith that you and your "low tech love" was exactly what he needed. I think it is so wonderful that you offered what you had, having no medical equipment.

Thanks for sharing your story. I imagine it was not easy reliving it.

What an awful situation for you. I can totally empathise. Last summer I was visiting a beautiful waterfall. As I reached the head of the trail down a shout came up that a man had fallen from the top into the river. I, like you, am a doctor and therefore automatically offered my services. The location was pretty rural and the emergency services would take some time to arrive.
When I reached him, the waves of people parted to let the doctor through. I have never felt more inadequate. I had nothing to offer and my medical training felt pointless. The man had ended up on the opposite bank of the river and could not be reached. My only contribution was to dissuade some young men from going into the water to try to retrieve him, as the risk to them was too great. He appeared to be dead, but of course without examining him I could not be sure. I have often wondered if that was the right thing to do.
I walked back to the top of the trail to meet my waiting family and I sucked it up and got on with my day. Because that is what we are trained to do. I am so pleased for you that you found a release, and that you found something that you could do, give love, that gave meaning to you in meaningless situation and maybe also to the young guy who had fallen.
Doctors carry an especially heavy burden when faced with these situations, as the illusion of control is strong with us. We need that sense of control to help us deal with our own demons. And when that illusion is shown for what it is, imaginary, it is painful. Be gentle with yourself, and grieve for this young man, but also for you own loss- that of your sense of control.

With love,
Claire

Claire Macaulay is the founder of www.womanuncut.co.uk encouraging woman to parade their power with love