Timing Is Still Everything

Last weekend I had an opportunity to be helpful to somebody who needed it. As the title suggests, timing was everything.

First I had to pull up at a stop sign at the right moment. I noticed the slowly oncoming cars were over a block away still, so I made my turn. I was just far enough away from the problem that I had time to see it, react, and pull my car over with my flashers on to notify oncoming traffic there was an issue. They really needed to stop, and I quickly crossed the street with my hand out in the "stop" position so they didn't make matters worse.

The street in question is a boulevard along the south side of our local recreation center, my ultimate destination. The center of the boulevard is an overflow parking lot, separating parked cars from traffic by rows of concrete bumpers. An elderly woman was sprawled on the traffic side of one of them, apparently having tripped on it as she tried to cross the street. Her several bags were scattered out around her, and, still sprawled, she was vainly attempting to gather them up closer to her. She was unable to stand up.

Part of my good timing is that I knew exactly what kind of difficulty she was in. The next person along may not have had knees so incapacitated that they couldn't roll over on to them and get themselves up from that position. Never mind the complication that she was sitting on one of her legs crossed under her. No leverage whatsoever, just the hope of surviving her dilemma without any (further?) injuries.

The first person on the scene, aka me, has been there. I've also been present when Steve has had his own version of the same problem, getting up from what has become an impossible position. So I know how to get out of it. I am also way too familiar with the ways "helpful" people try to fix that kind of situation which only cause more pain and embarrassment, so I know how not to get out of it. (Lucky me.)

I wouldn't be able to do it by myself. I waved down a passing pedestrian, while another driver coming the other way pulled into the parking lot and up to us to add his muscles to the task. We had to get her up off her bent leg first, and semi erect. From there we could assess her situation better, find out if she needed medical help. The other motorist and I each grabbed an arm, one hand under her elbow, the other under her shoulder. The pedestrian put his hands from behind on the sides of her ribs just under her arms. Together we lifted her to sitting on the concrete bumper she'd tripped over, both legs now forward. We gathered her bags while we all caught our breath, and I waved the waiting cars past.

Now came the questions. Did anything hurt? Could she move? Did she think she could stand? She was strongly affirmative in answering all our questions, so we were ready for the next step. Taking our same positions, we lifted her to her feet and made sure she was stable. We weren't ready to leave her quite yet. While still offering support, and making sure she again had her bags, we had her take her first steps. 

Thanking us, she insisted she was fine. Yes, the same kind of hesitant one is at her age and presumed normal level of frailty. But nothing hurt, and after waving on the next group of waiting traffic, we all went our separate ways. She finished crossing the street towards the rec center once cars cleared, and I returned to my car, shut off the flashers, and turned into the rec center parking lot by the door where I'd been heading. She'd gotten off the sidewalk by then and was walking in the same place I was driving, so I rolled down my window and asked one last time, now that she'd gone about a hundred feet, if she was still OK or needed any more help.

Since she still maintained she was OK, thanking me again for the assistance, and was showing no signs of pain , upset, or weakness, I parked and got out of my car. A quick glance further up the parking lot showed she'd already disappeared.