Helping an Injured Cyclist to the Hospital
About ten years ago, I gave CPR to a cyclist on Old La Honda road, but it was of no avail—I arrived too late to save him. Bummer.
Today while road-biking, I rode past a mountain biker with a skinned knee; he looked a little dazed but I made eye contact and he made no sign, so I road on. Resting a few minutes, I turned back towards home and while chatting with a chance acquaintance, we caught up to the injured cyclist.
He was pedaling with only his left leg, and at first I pondered if he was practicing skills as some do, and I have. But inquiring, he said that he was injured, perhaps with a broken hip. He did not want to “spend $5000” on an ambulance, indicating he would ride on, one-legged. The injured being dressed in only shorts and summer jersey and very light top and with the sun only good for another half hour, I was concerned that the dangerous combination of shock and cold might be coming for him, but I rode on for the moment.
Sensing my own hesitancy, I stopped at the next low rise about 1/4 mile ahead, and it was clear he was struggling. I decided then to see what I could do for him, offering to give him a ride but noting that it would take me at least 40 minutes to get home and back. He seemed reluctant, so I asked if perhaps he would take a ride from a motorist.
So I rode over to a guy with a Subaru hatchback, only to get a “my son is a paramedic and I’m worried about liability, it’s too bad we have such a litigious society, blah blah”. Too bad indeed.
So back to the injured cyclist, who now did not look in any shape to continue or even get pedaling again. Luckily, a fellow drove up in a Toyota TRO with topper pickup, and I explained things, this time with success. We got the injured mountain-biker over to the truck, and together my acquaintance and I each got under a shoulder and with care got him into the front seat, bike tucked into the back.
As it turns out, the injured cyclist had been a medic in war zones and actually worked at the local hospital. Maybe his military training had him wanting to tough it out, but I think within 30 minutes shock and hypothermia might have set in, and he ought to have known that too. And in retrospect, it is possible that he also had a concussion that was clouding his thinking. So I was really glad to have seen things through.
Afterwards, I reminded myself just how important it is to pay attention to psychology; there can be this weird “it will be fine without my help” thing that I felt the tug of. It is why a crowd needs direction—single someone out when you need help, or maybe no one will help.