Michelle Bowman, ARC/GNY Assistant Director of Training and Logistics, writes about her historic trip to Israel to work as an MDA Ambulance Responder.

As an "experienced” ambulance volunteer, I now know that bragging rights come from your most gruesome, near-death experiences. After taking countless elderly people to their hospital appointments, I was eagerly looking forward to something exciting. On Tuesday, Paul's day was so exciting that he became the self-dubbed “action man” and I was looking for a story to rival his. On Wednesday, I got what I was looking for.

Initially Paul and I went out together on Wednesday, with a medic and another volunteer. During our first call, we picked up a patient from an Intensive Care Unit to transfer them to the hospital. I sat up front and made my best attempts to complete the forms while Paul and the other volunteer sat in the back with the patient. It wasn"t until we were about halfway to the hospital that I realized the patient was a pregnant woman in labor and her contractions were less than two minutes apart. I don’t know a lot about pregnancy, but the driver turned on the lights and siren and we zoomed the rest of the way to the hospital. Unfortunately, I was unable to see the actual birth (which occurred in the hospital) but it was certainly an exciting way to start the morning.

Our next call was a mechusar hakara or unconscious patient. I had been around long enough at this point to not get too excited; I had already been called to a few unconscious victims who turned out to be fully conscious when I arrived. This call brought us to a senior citizen’s home, and we had to wait an unbelievably long time for the elevator. I just hoped that it wasn’t too serious.

We walked into the patient’s room to find a kononim (an on-call responder who is paged when there is a serious incident) performing full-fledged CPR on an elderly man. It took me a minute to process what was happening; despite all of my extensive CPR training and teaching, it was unbelievable to see him compressing the lifeless man’s bare chest. I was holding the Automated External Defibrillator (AED), and after about 30 seconds of shock, I opened the defibrillator. Meanwhile, the responder was exhausted so Paul took over the compressions and the other volunteer got into position to do the breaths.

In Israel MDA uses a Cardiopump to do compressions. A Cardiopump is a strange device that creates suction on the stomach so that both the pushing and the pulling of CPR compressions are more effective. The device seems efficient, but it is still exhausting, and I was both excited and nervous when the driver asked me if I could take over on the compressions and give Paul a break.

Giving CPR compressions is an incredible experience. You are literally circulating blood that will hopefully keep someone alive, and you can actually see the artificial pulse and breathing. Strangely, CPR makes someone look both alive and dead at the same time. While I was doing compressions I forgot everything else until the driver asked if I was ready to switch places. I did not realize how exhausted I was until Paul took over.

We performed CPR for over 40 minutes, with Paul and I taking turns doing the compressions. During this time an ICU ambulance arrived and started injecting the man with adrenaline and countless other drugs. Every few minutes we would stop and check for circulation again, but to no avail. After 40 minutes the doctor from the ICU was about to pronounce the man dead when we checked for a pulse one last time. The man had a pulse.

It was absolutely unbelievable to see the man’s heart beating on its own, after we had worked so hard and so long to get it going. Finally, I was able to look around the room at the pictures of his children and grandchildren. It was one of the most rewarding feelings I have ever had as we took the man downstairs to be driven to the hospital.

On a later visit to the hospital, I found out that the man lived for two more hours, and then died. Initially I found this disappointing, but then I reconsidered. The man was 96 years old, and we had given him enough time to allow his family to come to the hospital and say good-bye. Moreover, I must admit that I was pleased when the doctor said that our CPR had been “excellent”. This was the closest I had ever come to saving a life, and it was an incomparable, indescribable feeling. I could not wait to go out again the next day.