The Nation's Health

"34 year old male, ? Collapsed behind closed doors"

This job gives you a lot of strength in many ways. I suppose it's fair to say it's good for character building. Over the years I have found myself in various situations, where when I look back, I think 'how did I hold it together?' I often feel that the job has desensitised me to a lot of things. It has to. Everyone has their own coping mechanism and ways to deal with different situations. The much vaunted 'gallows humour' is something that all emergency services use. Perhaps after seeing the same thing over and over again, it just doesn't matter any more. There are some jobs however, that don't come along every other day or even every other month. These are the jobs you remember. Everyone remembers their first cardiac arrest, their first dead body, their first baby delivered etc and today was no different. As far as a day goes, it didn't feel right. I was just on edge, no idea why. When the call came down I knew it would be a serious job. We get 'collapsed behind closed doors' ever week but this just felt different. We headed round to the address to find two women standing at the front door.

We grabbed our stuff and headed over. It was the patients partner and mother. They hadn't been able to get through to him all morning, afternoon or evening. It was now 10pm. His car was outside the house and they could hear his phone ringing inside. The police had been requested but we had no ETA so we decided to try and get in ourselves. The door had been locked from inside so forced entry was our only option. My crew mate stepped up and gave the door a kick but she just bounced back off the door. I then had a go. After three kicks, the door swung open with a deafening bang as the brass door knob crashed into an iron radiator. The sound billowed through the hallway. The goal was to get in and we had achieved that but now a feeling I'll never forget engulfed me. I had a pitted knot in my stomach and was very apprehensive about going in any further. The hall was pitch black and the house felt cold and motionless. I shouted as I gingerly walked forward. All I heard back was silence. The light came on and lit up the downstairs. My crew mate entered the only closed door but the room was empty. Upstairs it was then.

I looked up and braced myself. I don't like exploring dark, empty houses at the best of times but today I was really nervous. It was a split staircase, and as I went up the first few steps I could feel my heart pounding. I pressed the light switch on the wall beside me and a single bulb illuminated the stair well. As I turned halfway up, I saw my crew mate and the two woman starring up at me with a look of expectation. I continued up, the stairs creaking with each movement, and as I got to the penultimate step my breath was taken away. I had looked to the right down the dark landing and six feet from me, poorly lit was a silhouette. It was the silhouette of our patient. I was the silhouette of him hanging, motionless from the loft hatch. I still see it like I do a photo. A moment locked in time that will stay with you, haunt you perhaps, forever. We cut him down, the tragic and gut-wrenching pain that his loved ones were experiencing was palpable. It's not a nice sight for someone who is used to seeing some pretty horrible sights. For someone who isn't, I can't to imagine what that feels like. We laid a blanket over his body and went downstairs to where his family had gone.

For us we could immerse ourselves in protocols. The guy had been dead for hours so we called the police to confirm an unexpected death, we filled out our paperwork and our Recognition Of Life Extinct form for the coroner. It all seems very scientific but it's a way to remove yourself from what the natural human reaction is to do. Cry. Seeing a relative cry in mourning is enough to put the lump in my throat and make me well up. They are horrific situations and no amount of training would make a difference. What do you say? What can you say? There is no way to powder coat what had happened. The evidence was there for them to see. It wasn't just knowing their partner or their son was dead, it was knowing how desperate he felt before his death to do what he did. Those feelings are what will haunt them just as much as seeing him hanging there. Every suicide effects many more people than the ones you see. There are always the ones who are left behind. The ones who feel that pain every day. The ones who still have to live their lives. Alone. That is the tragedy of suicide.

He had a 3 year old son. He will never know him, but will know how he died
He had a 1 year daughter. She will never know him, but will know how he died.
He had a sister. She will always hurt because her little brother didn't come to her for help.
He had a brother. He will always feel that he should have done something more.
He had a mum. She will always feel that she failed.
He had a dad. He will always feel like he failed.
He had a partner. She will always blame herself and raise their children alone.
He had many friends. They will all ask themselves why they didn't notice.
He had depression. He couldn't confront it, or if he did, he couldn't turn the corner