It was early one Saturday morning when my husband and I got caught up in a drama that we definitely weren't expecting. We had arrived at Cullercoats beach for our usual weekend swim in the chilly North Sea, when a woman in a dry robe approached us. 'Are either of you doctors?' she asked. We rushed with her over to a woman who was lying on the ground, looking very unwell. She had come out of the sea, and was just in her swimsuit and a long towel poncho. Her friend was very frightened, and kept asking the woman 'are you ok? are you ok?'.
I suspected straight away that this was Cold Water Shock, and that we should phone an ambulance just in case. Cold Water Shock is where your body core has got too cold, like hypothermia. Your body can keep you warm in the water by focussing blood around your core, but when you get out the cold blood from your extremities mixes with this warm blood and your overall body temperature can drop very dramatically. It makes you go bright red, and shiver violently. In some cases you can pass out, and in the worst case it can make your heart stop. The woman at the beach that day was very unwell, and needed to be warmed up straight away.
After talking to the ambulance service, I sent my husband, as instructed, to get a defibrillator from a nearby church hall. He needed a code to unlock it, which the woman on the phone had given me. Meanwhile, myself and other swimmers did all we could to warm up the woman and her friend, and to keep them calm and reassured. We piled on layers and dressed them in our donated clothing, and fed them hot tea and coffee. I had never imagined when I got up that morning that I would be putting my socks on a complete stranger and doing breathing exercises with her to calm her shivering, while warming her feet on my lap and helping her to take sips of tea.
It was an intense experience for all of us, but luckily the woman recovered. She had warmed up by the time the ambulance got there, but she needed to be checked over at hospital because her heart rate was still high.
I was glad to be there that day to help, and my natural bossiness certainly came in handy as I took control of the situation. But the thing that struck me most was how us humans are so bad at asking for help. We are so reluctant to appear vulnerable or stupid, or to embarrass ourselves in front of others. It was a struggle to get the poor woman to take off her wet swimsuit, as she didn't want anyone to get a glimpse of her body. In that moment, her fear of embarrassment was stronger than her survival instinct. I think we can all relate to that; so many of us would pretend we are fine when we trip over on the street and a passerby stops to help us, even if we were bleeding or concussed. How often does our embarrassment hold us back from getting what we need?
Both herself and her friend were also embarrassed that they had done it to themselves. It could have been prevented if they had come out of the sea sooner or got warm and dry quicker. But we weren't interested in judging them, only doing what we could to help them. At one point, I looked across at her friend, who was still in her wet things and a towel. Her lips were turning blue, she was shivering and her eyes were filling with tears as she was frightened for her friend. She was obviously freezing and upset, but when I offered to help her get dry and dressed she kept saying 'no, I'm fine'. In the end, I bullied her into drying off and changing, and forced her to drink some coffee. I even put my Ugg boots on her icy cold feet, despite her protests. I couldn't believe that she was trying to convince me she was fine, when she was so obviously suffering.
Why do we do this to ourselves? Turn down help when it is offered, soldier on even though everyone can see we are struggling? Why is it so hard for so many of us to admit we need help, and to take that help from our colleagues, friends or family who are so willing to give it. I don't know the answer, though I suspect some of it is that we absorb the message from a young age not to put anyone else out, not to be a bother or a burden. Some of it might also be pride, or shame that we aren't as strong as we want to be. We should be able to cope, other people can cope, why can't we?
Of course the truth is that it takes a lot of courage and strength to ask for help, and when you ask for help you are helping others around you too. You are demonstrating that it is an acceptable thing to do, and not a sign of weakness or incompetence. People feel great when they are allowed to help you. Myself and my husband were really proud of ourselves for having helped that day, and I haven't stopped boasting about how I nearly saved a woman's life!
Imagine a world where we could be honest about what we needed at work and at home, and where shame, pride, or embarrassment did not hold us back from getting what we needed from the people around us. You know you would be happy to help someone else, so let someone help you. If you're not fine, don't pretend you are. Don't wait until you are in a life or death situation before you learn how to say 'Help!'.
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