Squishy wrote:The Chief wrote:
What is "interesting" about the first responders experience?


Seriously?

Why don't you go review the definition of the adjective "interesting" then come back and tell me what I meant, it's pretty damn clear. We can turn this into a teachable moment instead of just another attempt to troll and find fault by the great and powerful chef. I use the word just as it is meant, "interesting read about the event is here:" Stop your little witch hunt, this is not the thread or the place...


Never mind I will do it for you...

Quote:
in·ter·est·ing (ntr-stng, -tr--stng, -t-rstng)
adj.
Arousing or holding the attention; absorbing.

No Squishy....

Maybe when you actually have the terrible experience to encounter such a sad and life shocking event, you sir may in fact understand why I posted my question.

Until then, you will find it just "interesting".

In reality, it sucks and is not one bit "interesting" at all. It haunts you for the rest of your life.

That is my point!

The Chief wrote:What is "interesting" about the first responders first real life confrontation with a fellow human beings death?

Everything. This was one person's response. I'm sure others would have reacted somewhat differently to each phase of the event. I figure a professional medical responder would have been more "clinical" about the situation. I sense this guy wished he weren't there to have to try to figure out what to do to help. There was a lot of compassion and emotion he was trying to control so that he could help the victim but was having a hard time with it. He's obviously trying to come to grips with his trauma by writing about it.

squishy wrote:I deleted that reply out of respect for this thread, I have pm the elves my concerns. There's no point is trying to fight the slander of someone who will have it out for anything you say...

My response was also in complete respect for the death of Brian and at a loss as to what was actually interesting with regards to the link.

The link you posted was really inappropriate IMO and has nothing to offer to making this thread a learning one, finding a possible remedy to what may have led to the fatality and in regards to not having this situ occur again to any other climber.

That was my point in posting what I did.

Nothing to do with you Squishy. So please do not turn this into another fiasco of sorts that you may actually be seeking.


Safety is paramount out there. How we all do things affects others and the future of this lifestyle and where we are allowed to play/climb.

We almost lost access to a local crag due to a very similar situ, three years ago.

Just as COZ posted on ST, I agree that somethings need to remain standardized.

My point from the beginning.

No disrespect ever intended to anyone.

Mountain Impulse wrote:

The Chief wrote:What is "interesting" about the first responders first real life confrontation with a fellow human beings death?

Everything. This was one person's response. I'm sure others would have reacted somewhat differently to each phase of the event. I figure a professional medical responder would have been more "clinical" about the situation. I sense this guy wished he weren't there to have to try to figure out what to do to help. There was a lot of compassion and emotion he was trying to control so that he could help the victim but was having a hard time with it. He's obviously trying to come to grips with his trauma by writing about it.

I can honestly buy that.... 100%

Good post.

A mild diversion.

One I was "scrambling" up a cliff, when a fellow above knocked off a loose rock. I heard the scuffle and put up my hands to divert the rock, like a volleyball. I hit the rock and did manage to deflect it away from hitting my companions.

It wasn't a volleyball, so it crushed the tips of three fingers; no bones were broken, but I remember seeing droplets of blood fly out. The fingers stung a bit, but as with many crushing injuries, it was self-numbing. I found this fascinating; I curled my fingers into my palm tightly, to staunch the blood loss. We were on a cliff, so it made most sense to me to climb to the top, rather than try to work on a small ledge, with just one partly-paralyzed hand. I didn't think of this as a bad injury, but I was dripping a lot of blood.

That was when I found out that my good buddy was deathly afraid of the sight of blood. He pleaded with me to close the wounds immediately, as he was sure he would faint and fall to his death. He was really losing it, so I just went ahead as fast as I could, got to a level spot, and used moleskin strips and tape to seal the wounds. Oddly enough, there was a trained paramedic there, but his 1st-aid kit had just one band-aid, and he just looked at the wounds with dismay, so I declined the help.

Other than being a "hero" story, this event re-enforced that: people can react very differently in an emergency situation, much out of our expectations. We really don't know until it happens, and it is good to know the range of human reactions. CPR dummies don't bleed, and if they have any limbs, the limbs aren't horribly twisted beneath their bodies. The poor fellow who was afraid of the sight of blood was tough, and had trained as a parachutist. There was just something buried deep in his brain that left this one weak link.

I read the blog from the link over on Supertopo. I kept thinking as I was reading it "Man, if I were a member of Brian's family this would be killing me."

However if you go on to read some of the comments, there is some very thoughtful stuff there.

Brian Ellis' partner that fateful day has posted a very detailed account of what happened including technical details of their rigging. It's a sobering read. I think its objective as a learning narrative is clear.

http://www.supertopo.com/climbing/threa ... 065&tn=140

Scroll to Japhy.

OK...

Here's the deal!

I am still working out the deal of my situ last summer when Jack Pressman, a client under my charge, that died of HAPE (holds the record for onset to death at 3.2 hours btw) at 10,800' after I administered 1.25 hours of CPR and then had to pronounce him dead.

The ensuing 6 hours alone with him waiting for the local SAR to show up, and never did, was one that also fired up some very intense emotions in me after my 24 years of Naval service. Of which I did 5 of those years flying SAR, 16 responding to crashes and A/C incidents that ended in many fatalities/body recoveries the likes no one should have to deal with.

The link brought back some very vivid memories of my first friends death on the eve of Oct 3, 1977 off the coast of Spain.

Now, I find nothing "interesting" in being an initial responder and witnessing a human being breath their last breath.

It remains imbedded in ones brain forever!

And... it SUCKS!

That was the intent of my post.

I feel for Zeth more than you could ever imagine.... unless you too have been there and done that.

Brian's death needs to find a path of goodness so that we can all learn from what happened. Then, do our solemn best to not let it happen to us or anyone we are climbing with or around. As do all and any fatal incidents within our community.

The Chief wrote:

Brian's death needs to find a path of goodness so that we can all learn from what happened. Then, do our solemn best to not let it happen to us or anyone we are climbing with or around. As do all and any fatal incidents within our community.

To use a fitting Hebrew word, Amen.

Good summary Chief, good restraint.

The Chief wrote:OK...

Here's the deal!

I am still working out the deal of my situ last summer when Jack Pressman, a client under my charge, that died of HAPE (holds the record for onset to death at 3.2 hours btw) at 10,800' after I administered 1.25 hours of CPR and then had to pronounce him dead.

The ensuing 6 hours alone with him waiting for the local SAR to show up, and never did, was one that also fired up some very intense emotions in me after my 24 years of Naval service. Of which I did 5 of those years flying SAR, 16 responding to crashes and A/C incidents that ended in many fatalities/body recoveries the likes no one should have to deal with.

The link brought back some very vivid memories of my first friends death on the eve of Oct 3, 1977 off the coast of Spain.

Now, I find nothing "interesting" in being an initial responder and witnessing a human being breath their last breath.

It remains imbedded in ones brain forever!

And... it SUCKS!

That was the intent of my post.

I feel for Zeth more than you could ever imagine.... unless you too have been there and done that.

Brian's death needs to find a path of goodness so that we can all learn from what happened. Then, do our solemn best to not let it happen to us or anyone we are climbing with or around. As do all and any fatal incidents within our community.

You are right: there is nothing interesting about it.

While I share some of the same sentiments as you do, working as a first responder, first in Salinas, CA, and now in Los Angeles, in frequently extremely violent areas, most of (but certainly not all) the bodies I've been around or people who've expired in my presence have had something to do with the direct actions of other people, and not through accidents, malfunctions, oversights, etc....

One develops a sort of neutrality (or, at least, I have) over time, where it's just part of the job. I wonder if those who work in similar positions, but who deal primarily with accidents, falls, car wrecks and various other similar situations develop sensitivities, for want of a better word, of a different nature.

I've seen a lot of bad things that just don't get to me, but sitting alone, at altitude, with someone who died, waiting for people who aren't coming, would be pretty much the worst.

edit for info already posted.

i get shakey just reading the two accounts so far. nothing really to say here...saying "be careful out there" is a broken record and almost inappropriate in this situation, considering they triple checked everything. Very sad news.

Just found out that we knew Brian, stayed at our house for a long climbing weekend at Lovers Leap a while back. Heavy stomach now. I'm so sorry and sad. I'm glad we got to meet you Brian. Please rest in peace.

RIP Brian - My heart goes out to your climbing partner, family, and friends in CA. I've spent time climbing with Brian and his partner. Both great climbers, tragic accident.

Jennie

I'm sorry to hear about Brian - my condolences to his family and friends.

Hold on... Is this the Brian I am thinking of!?