Like a bad dream
December 15, 2007 at 7:03 E-Grrrl and I were in high spirits. The guys are camping this weekend, and we're on our own with plans to make art, bake cookies and finish making a pinata for her class. We also needed to buy gifts for our Belgian relatives who have birthdays in December. The sun was shining and the air crisp. I knew parking anywhere near the mall would be impossible, so I layered my fuchsia down vest over a black sweater and together we headed to the Metro station, walking arm and arm and laughing.
Everything changed the moment we got off the Metro and began walking through the station. We watched in horror as an older woman a short distance ahead of us stepped onto the escalator, lost her balance, and fell straight backwards as the escalator climbed.
I sprinted forward to reach her, telling her in English, "It's OK, you're not alone." She was stunned, flat on her back at a steep angle, her head facing the bottom of the escalator and rapidly turning crimson as the blood rushed downward. I grabbed her under the arms and worked to pivot her prone body around so her head would be facing upward, hoping that I could then ease her into a seated position on a step before the escalator reached the top. While I managed to turn her, she was shocked and panicked and I couldn't get her to sit up. She was like a beetle trapped on its back.
A crowd had gathered at the top of the escalator and I yelled for someone to stop the escalator, terrified her hair or hands would get trapped as the escalator reached the top and the steps flattened. She was still on her back. If there was an emergency stop button, no one saw it or knew how to activate it. In just a moment, we were at the top of the escalator, her head bumping over the top edge.
At that point several people came to our aid. I grabbed her bags and trolley and a man reached under her arms and brought her to her feet. I was very concerned she might faint if she was pulled to a standing position too quickly, but my French was failing me and I didn't know how to convey that. I thought she should sit for a while, but there wasn't a bench in sight.
Luckily, the man and two women at the top of the escalator spoke French and asked if they should call an ambulance. She said no, and then a woman offered to call someone for her. I stood by knowing she was in shock and that she really should sit down, that she was bound to begin feeling the pain of her fall and her rough ride up the escalator at any moment. Still, the other people attending to her seemed in a better position to help her (due to my limited French), so E-Grrrl and I left after she thanked us for helping her.
By some freakish coincidence, that very morning E-Grrrl and I had been lying together in my bed talking about how scary it is to fall down stairs. She was recounting dreams she'd had of falling, and we were talking about how when we first moved to Belgium, we ALL fell on the stairs regularly. In our house here, there are three sets of narrow, curving stairs that have a different rise and proportions than the American steps we were used to. Our bodies were programmed to a particular step height and position, and it took a long time to retrain our senses and not keep tripping and losing our balance on the steps.
Both kids took some dramatic spills, especially my son A who tripped at the top of the stairs and fell forward, hitting his head hard and putting me on a concussion watch for 24 hours. I told E-Grrrl how I'd tripped on a laundry basket at the top of the cellar stairs when I was a little girl and fell down the steep steps to the concrete floor below. My forehead was bruised and my eye so battered it swelled shut--my first and only black eye and one of the few times I ever remember my parents taking me to the doctor.
Those stories made the woman's horrifying experience all the more frightening to witness and participate in. We walked in silence through the holiday buzz of the mall with an adrenaline hangover, our spirits flattened with concern. Had we done enough? Was there a better way to handle that situation? Had those people stayed with the woman? Was someone coming to take her home?
I'm glad she didn't crack her skull on the sharp metal edges of the step and I was grateful she was wearing a well padded winter coat, but I know from experience how the extent of injury and bruising from falling isn't fully seen or felt until hours later. I hope she's not alone and that she's OK.
The vision of the woman's body arcing backward and falling onto the steps is a moment I'll never forget. I'm sure it's etched in E-Grrrl's mind as well.
December 15, 2007
Reader Comments (9)
Good for you V. - - if anything happens to me I'd want you and E-grrrl around to help me. ;)
You and your daughter had an incredible experience and premonition.
Most of the time all I did was call 911, but once I had a woman drive into a ditch outside my office and when I ran out to check on her, she came staggering out of the car insisting she was OK. She had hit her head in the accident and had a big gash spewing large quantites of blood all over the place. I'm trying to convince her to sit down, she's insisting she's FINE and needs to call her boss and tell him she's going to be late to work. I got her into my office (no one else was at work yet because it was 7:30 a.m.). I called an ambulance despite her protests and let her use the phone. Blood everywhere from the head wound and I'm trying to get a compress on her head without touching any blood...
It is really hard to deal with someone when they're in shock after an accident. When they're not seriously or obviously injured, they truly do think they're OK.
you noticed. and told her she was not alone. The best thing to know.
Steps (and now pretty much escalators) are such ordinary things we take for granted, but serious mishaps can occur. And, steps that are "different" like you said can definitely throw you. At church last week, my, mom, MIL and I went in the front door because it was cold and rainy and that was the nearest spot. My MIL said she didn't like going in that door because she didn't like the steps. We almost never use the front door and I definitely hadn't since the steps had been redone a few years ago. I saw immediately what she was saying. They were shallower with rounded (more decorative) edges and the height was off. We each gripped the handrail every step we were on them.
While I know you will never erase the images of today's experience, I hope you and E-grrrl can set it aside enough to have some more fun while the guys are off camping. I actually just read an article about an interesting study that shows that when people have some type of traumatic incident like a car accident or such, watching horror movies can help because it places other images in your head and allows you to release your own post--traumatic feelings vicariously, so to speak. (One lady who'd been in a very bad car accident talked about watching Jaws and other scary movies over and over and feeling better afterwards. I kind of think I'd prefer trying silly, funny movies that made me laugh out loud myself ... as Joni Mitchell sang, laughing and crying, they're the same release.) Not suggesting that you need to do any of that ... it just came to mind.
Hoping for a good day for you guys.
A local channel once showed 3 types of "fake accident victims": one of them a businessman in an expensive suit, one stunning blond 20 yo beauty, one non-nondescript old lady.
All of them faked an identical "drop".
The businessman and the beauty got immediate assistance, while most people ignored the older lady. You did not ignore her.
As far as the automatic escalators of the Brussels subway goes: there are often no visible emergency stops, turning them into a real hazard.
That older lady was absolutely fortunate to have you around...