WARNING: GRAPHIC CONTENT. IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS OF INJURIES, PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS BLOG POST.
On Monday 8th January 2018, I posted the following status on Facebook:
"Without going into detail, this morning was the most horrific scene I've ever had to deal with. The only reason I am posting on social media is because I want you all to take a few seconds to tell the people closest to you that you love them, and that paramedics, nurses, police, fireys and others that have to deal with the worst scenes imaginable deserve all of your respect and appreciation.
PS, please don't worry about Jess or I, we are perfectly fine and Jess was already at work. I am just posting because you HAVE to tell people you love them. Life is fragile, and can change or be gone in an instant."
At approximately 8:40am I heard activity outside our front door, which isn't unusual in our apartment block. I thought it may have been the cleaners working through the building, us being on the third floor. A few minutes later, I heard and felt an enormous crashing sound that shook the apartment so much I thought it had come from the roof. I am the only one in our apartment building with a key to access the roof, so I immediately grabbed my keys to investigate. I thought an air conditioning unit or something had fallen over. I opened my front door and saw a pair of sandals on the floor, and a set of keys on the ledge. Instinctively, I looked over the edge and I was not prepared for what I saw.
Lying crumpled on the floor was an older gentleman, face down on the tiles, legs pointing in directions they shouldn't, arms flattened, and blood just beginning to pool from his head. Immediately I ran back inside my apartment to get my phone: "Oh, fuck! Oh, no! Oh, shit, fuck fuck fuck!" I dialled 000: "Ambulance please!" I can't remember exactly what I said, I remember staying on the third floor because I didn't want the phone signal to drop out if I took the lift or stairs and knew that time was of the essence to give him the best care. I looked down to him again, and saw someone looking from the first floor. "I'M ALREADY CALLING THE AMBULANCE!!!" I shouted. The emergency services lady asked me to see if he was moving, I told them I thought he was dead. I thought at this point that it was a tragic accident, that he had slipped and fallen while trying to complete a task of some kind. Then he moved his head slightly. They asked me to go down to him, and said they'd call me back if the phone dropped out.
I got down to the ground floor, opened the door and crouched down next to him. His glasses were by the door, he was trying to move. I told him not to move and that help was on its way, and it seemed to me that he was responding with groans, obviously he was in immeasurable pain. I'm not sure if his groans were responses to me talking to him, or involuntary because of the pain from his injuries. At no stage did I touch him, but I got a closer look at just how messed up his legs and arms were. I have always had quite a level head when it comes to emergency situations; I've called ambulances for people who have collapsed before, I have directed people as necessary in such situations in a calm manner. This was off the scale of anything I had ever encountered, and I felt myself becoming dizzy.
As the emergency services asked me to keep reassuring him, I looked up and saw the same person looking down again from the floor above. I motioned to him to get down here quick, I knew I was in shock already. I was sweating profusely, my t-shirt was clinging to my body, my arms were so thick with sweat it was like sunscreen. As the other man got to me, the lady on the phone asked me if I was comfortable touching the patient. I said no, I knew it was a critical point of his care and I was shaking so much I didn't feel comfortable doing it. I heard the approaching sirens, I began to feel sick, and left through the front door of the building to wait outside for the Ambulance to arrive. They asked to speak to whoever was tending to the fallen man, so I asked the other man to take my phone and follow the instructions, I went back out the front of the building and sat down thinking I would throw up. 20-30 seconds later, the dizziness subsided, the ambulances arrived and I made sure they had access to the patient. I could hear him still groaning as the paramedics did whatever they needed to do to be able to prepare him for transportation to hospital, then a helicopter overhead finding a place to land in a park nearby.
I was holding the front door open for the paramedics when some police arrived too. A female officer saw me, and obviously I must have appeared distressed and disheveled as she asked if I was OK first. I said I was fine, although of course that was lip service. She asked if I saw what happened; "No, but I heard it. I'm the one who called it in." She told me to wait there and she'd come back to me, then went to the scene. When she came back to me, I began to describe everything that happened, then took her up to my apartment to view the scene from above as I saw it. I pointed out the keys and the footwear, she said it would have to be set up as a crime scene.
It began to dawn on me that this may have been a deliberate act. I wasn't sure who the man was, and the only man I knew who resembled him lived on the floor below us, but what would he need to be doing on the top floor? I had thought it was the cleaners, but there was no cleaning equipment. Maybe he was reaching for something and fell? But there was nothing to be reaching for. He must have landed feet first from the injuries sustained, would a suicide attempt do that? Would someone attempting suicide go to the lengths of removing their footwear and keys but leave on their glasses? The fact is, there are no correct answers to those questions as someone contemplating suicide has a scrambled mind at that time so perhaps this was me trying to make sense of the situation, trying to somehow cling to the hope that it really was just an accident and not a deliberate act.
The man had been taken away to the helicopter and flown the short distance to Westmead Hospital when there was a knock at my door. Two policemen in suits, one of whom I had previously met. They asked me to take them to the CCTV room, where we viewed the relevant footage. Mercifully, the cameras had not captured the moment of impact as the scene was far enough in the background of the picture to not be viewed in any detail. Going through the footage from before the incident, we found images of the man entering the lift and it confirmed for me that the man was who I thought it was; a neighbour from the floor below. I did not know his name, and at the time of writing I still don't. I saw the police walking with his wife to the cars, presumably to take her to the hospital to be with him.
Clearly, I was shaken. Clearly I was in shock. Clearly, I was in no fit state for work and I went to my in-laws to get out of the vicinity while the police finalised what they needed to do. As I replayed the morning over and over again I wondered what I could have done differently. Could I have gone outside and checked who it was out there and stopped him from falling or jumping? Honestly, I had no reason to think anything like this was about to happen. How could I have known someone was going to fall or jump?! I knew I had given him the best chance by calling 000 straight away, I knew he was still alive as of when he left the building. Perhaps I could have been calmer when the operator asked me to touch/move him but feeling as sick as I was at that point I could have done more damage, so I think I did the right thing asking the other man to help the victim.
On Monday night by the time I got home I was still very shaken. Sleep has always been an issue for me, I lay in bed in tears at what I had seen as my wife tried to comfort me. She was in tears knowing I was upset, at which point I caught myself because I didn't want to affect her and her feelings. I knew early after the incident that I would need some counselling for this and I took a business card from one of the officers with the Victim Support details, I resolved to call them that week if I did not feel better.
On Tuesday I went back to work as usual, on Wednesday I was at the Sydney Cricket Ground in the morning as a net bowler for the England cricket team. It was a much needed distraction, and most enjoyable but didn't completely take my mind off it as the police had confirmed by phone on Tuesday that the man had attempted suicide. He had responded well to the operations to fix bones and internal injuries, but was placed in an induced coma in the ICU with no guarantee he would come through it. On Wednesday afternoon I met a friend who is a Fireman, has seen his fair share of horrific things and perfectly placed to give me advice. He did what mates do... he checked in, he listened, he advised and he supported. He knows how much I value that, and he's that kind of bloke. Always there if/when you need someone.
On Thursday during a break at work I called the Police to find out the latest on the man's condition, they advised me he had died sometime on Wednesday afternoon. I had done everything I could/should have done but it wasn't enough to save this man's life. Had I actually prolonged his agony for two days by acting as quick as I did? I had no way of knowing that at the time, and I wouldn't change what I did. I just feel bad that he was obviously in such a bad place that he felt jumping to his death was his only option.
The incident came two years, almost to the day, since Tom Allin had thrown himself from a bridge in Bideford, North Devon. Although I can't pretend to be a close mate, I always got on well with Tom and at one stage had bene in talks with him to set him up with Macquarie University Cricket Club. He ended up going to somewhere in Perth, and he was a very talented cricketer who went professional for Warwickshire. He had cut his own life tragically short, I didn't know the circumstances around it. On Monday someone from my own building had taken an action which cut his life short, and I don't even know his name. I don't even know how to find out, but I want to know, and I want to attend the funeral and find out the story of this man's life.
More people need to be aware that it is OK to not be OK, to know that help is out there if you just talk about your issues. I don't know what led Tom or this gentleman to take the action they did, but clearly in that moment they felt it was the only option they had. I have still not heard from any counselors but when I do I will be documenting and sharing as appropriate to show people that it is not a weakness to need, or ask for, help. If you are contemplating suicide, don't do it. Whether you think it is the case or not, people out there care. But sometimes in order to get the help you need you have to ask for it. It seems hard to ask for help, but it is the easiest thing to do. Don't let the dark demons win, you're better than that.
So that is how my last week has gone. I hope yours has been a lot better than that. My status on the day was my way of asking for help because I needed it, and also to encourage people to tell the ones closest to us that we love them and care for them because you just don't know when something could happen to end or change a life forever. Do what you need to do to help yourself, or get the help you need. I hope by talking about my issues I can free you up to talk about yours.
With love. xx
