Unconscious but breathing normally
This morning I was heading into work (a bit late to be honest) and crossing Westminster bridge. Quite often there's a bagpipe player there. This morning he was crouching on the pavement next to a largish lady. She was dressed quite strikingly in a bright neon blue dress and bright yellow croc-like shoes. She was also very deliberately rolling on her side like a child on a lawn, heading rather determinedly across the pavement and into the traffic. I like a bit of street performance as much as the next person so I stopped to see what they'd do next. Perhaps a tune, a dance or some lines from Shakespeare? Unfortunately, what she did next was to continue rolling right into the traffic. He held onto her to stop her going any further and the two of us managed to crouch down and drag her back onto the edge of the pavement.
I put her into a rather poor recovery position but with her head resting on my leg not her hand so she'd be a bit more comfortable. She was out but with her eyes open and not responding to anything. According to the piper, she'd started shouting at him, in particular insisting that he didn't love Princess Diana enough. He was trying to reassure her on this point when she collapsed.
The piper and another passer by started to dial an ambulance when we encountered the "people of a certain age are hilarious with mobiles" phenomenon. "What number is it?" they asked me. "It's NINE NINE NINE," I said extremely clearly. "Really, even on a mobile, are you sure?" "Yes, I'm completely certain." (You can use 112 or 911 but I didn't want to introduce doubt at this point.) A little while later they were still consulting each other. I couldn't get my own phone at this point as it was in my pocket which is on my leg which was under the lady's head.
Fortunately, as they mastered the art of phone a passing GP stopped to help (immediately deciding her first priority was to phone her next appointment to say she'd be late). The helpful lady passerby had checked the unconscious woman's bag and found medical records, some pills and something that indicated she was diabetic. The GP took her blood pressure then within a few minutes a motorcycle paramedic and two policemen showed up. The lady remained stubbornly unconscious but breathing (initially with her eyes open which was disturbing) with occasional little twitches.
I spent the time crouched on the pavement telling the unconscious lady that everything was going to be fine and an ambulance was on the way. The paramedic helpfully chipped in with "haven't got no bloody ambulances, it's the cuts isn't it?" which we all agreed was shameful (and not terribly reassuring). A blood test was started and various suggestions were made (trying to establish if she'd hit her head) and I managed to find a position where I could rest my leg a bit because crouching down with someone resting on your thigh for fifteen minutes can get a bit uncomfortable.
We found out the ladies name from her medical record and just before the ambulance arrived she started to come round a bit and eventually say something about having a migrane. (There was an intervening period where she could only communicate by nodding her head or shaking her head very slightly and only I could really say which she'd done because her head was on my leg... so there was quite a weird "No, she didn't hit her head." "Yes, she has just come from the hospital." "I don't think she's going to be able to answer a question about the nature and frequency of her fits by nodding.") About twenty minutes after it all started the ambulance showed up and she was able to sit up and get a ride. I shook the bagpiper's hand (seems from his accent he was either English or very posh Scots) because she would have certainly rolled under a car had it not been for him. I've no idea what happened next except that I was thinking about it so hard I ended up riding the tube the wrong way for fifteen minutes.
I put her into a rather poor recovery position but with her head resting on my leg not her hand so she'd be a bit more comfortable. She was out but with her eyes open and not responding to anything. According to the piper, she'd started shouting at him, in particular insisting that he didn't love Princess Diana enough. He was trying to reassure her on this point when she collapsed.
The piper and another passer by started to dial an ambulance when we encountered the "people of a certain age are hilarious with mobiles" phenomenon. "What number is it?" they asked me. "It's NINE NINE NINE," I said extremely clearly. "Really, even on a mobile, are you sure?" "Yes, I'm completely certain." (You can use 112 or 911 but I didn't want to introduce doubt at this point.) A little while later they were still consulting each other. I couldn't get my own phone at this point as it was in my pocket which is on my leg which was under the lady's head.
Fortunately, as they mastered the art of phone a passing GP stopped to help (immediately deciding her first priority was to phone her next appointment to say she'd be late). The helpful lady passerby had checked the unconscious woman's bag and found medical records, some pills and something that indicated she was diabetic. The GP took her blood pressure then within a few minutes a motorcycle paramedic and two policemen showed up. The lady remained stubbornly unconscious but breathing (initially with her eyes open which was disturbing) with occasional little twitches.
I spent the time crouched on the pavement telling the unconscious lady that everything was going to be fine and an ambulance was on the way. The paramedic helpfully chipped in with "haven't got no bloody ambulances, it's the cuts isn't it?" which we all agreed was shameful (and not terribly reassuring). A blood test was started and various suggestions were made (trying to establish if she'd hit her head) and I managed to find a position where I could rest my leg a bit because crouching down with someone resting on your thigh for fifteen minutes can get a bit uncomfortable.
We found out the ladies name from her medical record and just before the ambulance arrived she started to come round a bit and eventually say something about having a migrane. (There was an intervening period where she could only communicate by nodding her head or shaking her head very slightly and only I could really say which she'd done because her head was on my leg... so there was quite a weird "No, she didn't hit her head." "Yes, she has just come from the hospital." "I don't think she's going to be able to answer a question about the nature and frequency of her fits by nodding.") About twenty minutes after it all started the ambulance showed up and she was able to sit up and get a ride. I shook the bagpiper's hand (seems from his accent he was either English or very posh Scots) because she would have certainly rolled under a car had it not been for him. I've no idea what happened next except that I was thinking about it so hard I ended up riding the tube the wrong way for fifteen minutes.