Life or Death

Glancing over at the clock I could see that it was almost time to change
rotations. I had been up on stand at the pool for about six hours and was
starting to get a bit tired. There were plans set up for lunch, and then it was
time for me to come right back and sit up here for another five hours. Not that
I really mind it. This job is probably the best I have ever had, plus I loved
the people and the great tan from being outside all the time.

For some reason on this particular day there was nobody at the pool one hour,
and the next there were over eighty people squirming all over the place.
Although I was tired and anxious to meet this girl for lunch, I knew I had to
keep paying attention with so many people in the pool at once. Slowly moving my
head left-to-right then back again, I did my best to see every individual in
the pool. Nothing unusual, an older man was swimming laps in the lap lane, some
kids were playing Marco Polo in the middle of the pool, and a group of ladies
were chatting it up while sitting on their tubes.

Then for some reason this small boy caught my eye. He was swimming over close
to the stairs, but just far enough out to where he could not stand.  He had a
weird batman hat on over his goggles and was flaring his arms out at peculiar
angles in order to drag the water past him. It was obvious this boy was not a
strong swimmer. However, he was heading towards the ladies on their tubes, so
of course he would grab onto his mother's arm and be alright. Still, I could
not take my eyes off of him. I knew I had to keep looking around.  I had to
watch out for the other hundreds of people in the pool, but my eyes were glued
to this boy, not even able to take any more than a quick glance at the rest of
the pool before my eyes instantly fell back on him. I knew this was
irresponsible of me to just focus on him, but I was in total tunnel vision and
could not do anything about it.

Waiting for this child to just grab onto his mother's arm, I waited intensely,
waiting for me to be able to look at everyone else in the pool as well. He got
closer and closer to her, but never grabbed her. Instead he decided that he
should turn around and swim back to the wall. This lady on the tube did not
even seem to notice as he swam away from her in a snake-like fashion; all the
while, never raising his head above the water.

The boy was only a foot away from the wall now, but with the way he was
swimming it might as well have been a mile. Then, what I never thought could
happen, happened. What has not happened at any pool in The Woodlands in over
five years, happened. This young boy inches from the wall, stopped moving
entirely and without a sound, began to sink to the bottom. He started floating
down to the bottom of the pool in the same fashion that a leaf would fall from
a tree, swaying side to side as he ever so slowly moved downwards. The tunnel
vision was gone and the world was back in my hands.

Standing up and blowing my whistle as loudly as I possibly could and for as
long as I possibly could, everything went silent and every eye in the facility
was on me. The lady on her tube began to scream in terror, seeing a small boy
at her feet in the pool. I could feel an emotional energy running through me,
but with no idea what it was. Fear? Anxiousness? Nervousness? Doesn't matter. I
began to recite the same words that we all took for granted the million times
we practiced them, "Lifeguard needs assistance. Activate EAP. Bring backboard,
AED, BVM, oxygen. Call 911."  Then, I jumped in.

Swimming faster than I have ever swum in my life, I swam to the far corner of
the pool, a good half a lap away from the chair. In about 3 seconds max, I was
directly over the child and then dived down to pick him up. Being careful of
the head, I lifted him out of the water. Looking at his small face, he could
not have been more than 4 years old. His lips were completely blue, and a
bubbly foam dripped from his mouth. I began to set him as carefully as I could
on the edge, contemplating what to do next.

Austin, the supervisor at the time, ran over to where I was and already had his
breathing mask out ready to begin CPR. At this same time a friend of the
parents of this kid noticed who it was, and signaled to them to come over from
the baby pool. Muttering a few profanities, the friend as well as both parents
ran over to the scene while tears streamed from their eyes. Before Austin could
check the child the three of them were pushing us out of the way trying to take
over and tilt the boy on his side.  I began to push them back and barely able
to push the words out of my mouth, I told them, "We're certified lifeguards.
Please stay back."

Austin began his initial check, no pulse, no breathing. The four year old boy
was dead. Looking up at Austin I could see the same wide-eyed expression I knew
was on my face. I knew he felt the same small, cold shivers that ran through my
entire body. I knew he felt the same unidentifiable surge of emotion running
through him. Austin placed the mask around the boy's mouth gave two initial
breaths as I held him still, unable to get out of the pool due to the crowd
around him. He began the first chest compressions which at the same time crack
the boy's ribs. It sounded like a peanut shell crackling in your ear.

After thirty compressions it was back to the mouth for two breaths. While
Austin was coming back to the child's chest for the compressions, the entire
pool began to clap, and then it was back to complete silence. The boy's parents
kept crying, "Come on, Tyler," or "You can do this, Tyler," between their
tears. Three minutes or so have passed. A funnel of water poured from Tyler's
mouth with every push on his chest. Every breath into Tyler's mouth began to
slowly open his eyes until you could see them rolled completely back in his
head. During this time, I could feel how close it was to him dying. Normally
the thought of death seems so distant, but in this moment it felt like the
difference of leaning a bit to the left or leaning a bit to the right. And the
difference between the two began to slowly fade away until they both seemed
completely the same. Not really even a thin line separating the two, not really
anything separating the two.

Tyler began breathing out agonal breaths, which sounds more like a sleeping
zombie than a human being. However these strange sounds only made us more and
more hopeful. CPR continued for another two to three minutes with the same
routine. Then all of a sudden, Tyler shot to life. He began crying and
thrashing out trying to push everyone away from him, so we rushed him to the
corner to get some shade.

There was nothing more for me to do while he was in the shade surrounded by
other guards and his parents. So I went back into the pool to get my stuff that
had flown off whenever I jumped down. As I got back into the pool, everyone in
the facility began to applaud me. Getting out, every person wanted to come
shake my hand and tell me "good job". The parents of the boy ran over and
thanked me profusely.

As all of the stress was beginning to die down, the gestures of gratitude kept
coming to me. I knew that this should make me feel happy or even proud, but it
didn't. Being that close to it all, I could not fully comprehend how they could
be thanking me when I was so close to killing him. It just didn't seem right
when in all of my efforts to save him; it was just as easily possible that he
could have died. For some reason, being that close to the edge changed
everything. There was no real difference in the actions it would have taken to
go either way, but I know how different things would have been if I let them go
to that other side of the line. And I know now, more than ever, that I would
never let anyone go the other way, no matter how similar it feels to over here.