2020-02-17
Finally home safe in Victoria, I went out to run a few errands and grab some groceries this morning. It's Family Day and a beautiful sunny one at that, so there are lots of people about town. While driving home, I noticed a half-dozen cars ahead of me swerving erratically around some sort of obstacle on the sidewalk.
That obstacle was an elderly man in his mid-eighties who had slipped and fallen. As he came into view, my heart sank and I swore to myself audibly. His walker stood while he lay on the pavement. Both were motionless. There's no telling how long he'd been on the pavement with two of his limbs nearly splaying out into traffic, but it didn't look good at all.
I hastily peeled into a nearby parking lot, leaving my car across three stalls in the interest of time, and jumped out to assist him. Two women in a trailing SUV were twenty seconds behind me as I attended to the man to ensure he was okay. Together, the three of us assessed the scene, spoke with him, and when he was ready, got him back on his feet.
One of the wheels on his walker had slipped, which contributed to him losing his balance. He was on his way to have lunch with a friend. He was conscious, free from injury (his thick coat had softened the fall and thank heavens he hadn't hit his head), but really shaken up and spooked to say the least.
This is not a post about karma, shame, or the importance of regular first aid training. This is a post about the importance of dignity and respect for someone who needed help.