Another one to remember (and/or never forget...)

Touching lives, getting involved - emotionally, if not physically.... I've mentioned these kind of calls before - they leave me drained and exhausted. They are the ones that make me want to run to the bathroom and cry after disconnecting. They are the ones that stay with me for weeks, if not forever, and cause me to pray for the person involved... And that's a good thing...

I won't give you the whole conversation but I'll give you the gist and try to put into words some of the emotion of the call....

I answer the phone and a distraught male (I'll call him Mike) says that he'd been talking to someone on the suicide crisis line and they'd hung up on him. I found that really hard to believe as that is their job, so I got some basic info from Mike (weapons? history of past attempts? alcohol? anyone else in the residence?, etc) and then conference-called him back to the crisis staff. Once I was convinced he was being helped, I dropped out of the call. Ten minutes later, Mike was back telling me they did it again (what the heck???). I chatted with him for a bit longer, put him on hold (but only after asking him if I could, and promising that I would be right back!) while I consulted with a constable that I was taking the right steps, then conferenced him back again. The staff there defended themselves by saying that they had to put him on hold every now and then, and he kept hanging up. Another ten minutes go by, then fifteen, and I'm thinking that this is all resolved and we weren't going to have to get involved (whew!).

Then, Mike's back again - said he won't talk to the guy at the crisis line anymore because "he doesn't care and I can't understand him." Now it's up to me... We started to chat and I tried to find "safe" areas we could talk about. He'd been battling cancer, had two brothers die last year and his best friend a month ago. He'd been drinking and was planning to take pills and end it all. The conversation went up and down as I tried to keep his mind on positive elements of his life (his achievements, his relationship with his wife (she was at work when he called), etc.). Once I'd determined that he was actually planning to end it ("Call the funeral home tomorrow." "What do you mean by that, Mike?" "You know what I mean..."), my co-workers updated the members and they started heading out to the house. It was in a rural area, so it took them about half an hour to get there. There was no way I was going to let Mike go, so I stayed on the phone with him. He asked me my name and I didn't hesitate to give my first name, knowing it would serve to deepen the trust that was developing between us... But it also involved me more emotionally with the call...

Mike had said that he didn't want police or ambulance coming to his house and I was careful not to say that that was, or wasn't, happening. I just kept trying to focus him on something else. He wouldn't tell me what drugs he had in hand but said it was "enough to kill a horse". Praying for the right words as we talked, I believe they were given to me when I needed them, although I don't even remember all I said. I just know that I appeared to be connecting with him and he was trusting me... I panicked several times as his voice began to fade and his speech was getting slurred. I was so afraid we'd lose him before we got on scene. I had no idea how much he'd taken but, during the conversation, I would hear the pills rattling in the bottle as he poured more out and popped them in his mouth. I begged him to stop but he continued. He told me he was sorry and that I was a "nice lady" but there was nothing else he could do. He then proceeded to tell me that if the police came to his house, there would be "a bloodbath". When asked about it, he told me that he now had a knife to his throat and, if we tried to enter the house, he would either stab it in his heart or slit his throat. Great. He was escalating fast. Then the members arrived on scene and everything changed...

You know, they teach you about how people's emotions escalate when confronted or when things don't go the way they plan, but there's nothing like actually hearing it happen to make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Suddenly the conversation turned drastically. Punctuated with profanity, the frantic words came:
- They're here! You sent them out here!
- Who's there? What do you mean, Mike?
- I can see them, looking in the window! They're gonna kick my door in! I'm not going down without defending myself! That's it, I'm doing it now! I have the knife to my throat! You lied to me!!
- No, Mike, I didn't lie to you!! Please put the knife down! Put it down! You don't have to end it this way! Just talk to me some more...please...just talk to me some more!
- I'm taking more pills now... (sound of pills being poured out of a bottle).

Then, miracuously, after about five minutes of this kind of talk, something snaps and Mike says, "Okay, I'll put the knife down. Tell them I'll open the side window and talk to them." Over the phone, I hear the conversation as the officers on scene calmly tell Mike to take all the time he needs, to go ahead and talk to either them or me - whomever he wants to (he chose me....great). They told him the door was not going to be kicked in and they would not use force to make him do anything he didn't want to do. My discussion with him picked up again and I talked to him about his wife and how devastated she would be to find him hurt when she got home and about how his life is a gift from God. He finally told me that he had put the knife down (but had taken some more pills) and that he would let the constables in. I heard him go to the door and start talking to them but he was still talking to me as well. I realized it was time to say goodbye, so I told him that I'd be praying for him (probably not supposed to on a recorded police line, but sometimes eternity is the most important thing). "Oh, you must be a Catholic." 'No, Mike, I'm a Christian'. "A Christian. Maybe someday I'll be a Christian," he whispered wistfully. Then, "What's your phone number? I have to let you know if I'm okay! I have to be able to thank you!" 'You don't need my phone number, Mike.' "But how will I tell you that I'm okay?" 'Just let the officer know, Mike, and he'll tell me...'

I had to let him go then, leaving him with a "God bless you, Mike. Say hi to your wife for me tomorrow." End of call. Period. Dear Lord, everyone around me just stopped what they were doing and stared at me - I felt like my insides were laying all over the floor. I was on the verge of tears and it was my break time but I couldn't leave my chair. All I could do was pray, pray and pray some more...

End of the story? I came back from my break to a phone call from the constable who responded (with lots of backup!) and he told me that I did an incredible job, so that was good. He said they had taken him to the hospital and that he was expected to live. He also confirmed that everything I was being told by Mike was actually happening. He had been holding a knife to his throat (they were watching through the window) and he was downing pills through the latter end of our conversation.

So that's that. Later today, I was sharing all this with Mandy and told her I half-wanted to go to see him at the hospital. We talked about it and decided that it would be better if I just send a card and/or flowers, up to his room. I phoned and he'd been discharged already (!), so we ended up going to the bookstore and picking out a card and Bible and mailing it to him... I felt better after doing that and now I can leave him in God's hands....

If you feel so led, please, whenever you think of him, say a prayer for Mike....