Texas Tragedy

 The last post I made was while we were in Texas back in mid-February. I haven't written since then because we had an experience like no other and it has been difficult to get back into the groove of writing. Today I am writing to share that experience with you. I realize there aren't many people who read these blogs (mostly family and close friends) but that's ok because I am doing this writing for documentation purposes as well so that Pam and I have something to look back on while we live this life we have dreamed of living. Living! That is the purpose for today's blog.

It was a crisp February afternoon in Southern Texas on this day. Pam and I bundled up to take the dogs for a walk through Lake Brownwood State Park. It was sunny, but cold. We left the warmth and comfort of our home and decided to walk towards the lake, about a ten-minute walk from our trailer, and see what it had to offer by way of scenery. So we leashed the dogs and headed out.

At the lake there is a small parking lot in front of the dock on the lake. There was one car there. We walked past it from about thirty feet away and I stopped as I saw someone inside the car leaned over to her right. It appeared that she was sleeping. I told Pam that I needed to check and make sure everything was ok. Upon approaching the car I noticed a backpack in the front passenger seat and a note. The note was clearly propped up against the backpack so that whoever came upon the scene would know what had transpired. The note was legibly written, it was a full page addressed to various family members, including her three kids. She had written apologies to her family for being a failure. We had stumbled upon a suicide in progress. I knocked on the window.

When she heard me knock she slowly, and groggily, lifted her head to look at me. It was clear that something was wrong. Tears were still fresh on her face, but she was no longer crying because when I approached she was unconscious. I asked her to roll down her window (I didn't ask her to open the door because I didn't want her to feel uncomfortable with a stranger approaching her). She laboriously reached forward and turned the key in the ignition in order to roll the window down. "Are you ok?" I asked through the crack in the window. "I'm fine" she whispered through half-opened eyes that were glazed over. It was clear from the way she moved (like a sloth) and spoke that she was not fine. I opened her door.

Upon viewing the inside of the car (the backpack, the note, and a pill bottle) it was clear that she was under the influence of something. I didn't know what it was that she had taken, but it was obvious that whatever it was that she took it was too much. She was already half-dead by the time we found her, and she was rapidly moving towards the inevitable. I still had Dylan's (our dog) leash in my hand as I investigated. He was very adamant about being inside the car with me (I was leaning in from the outside while talking with her). I am still unsure if he knew something was wrong or if he just wanted to say hi. In either case he was impeding my ability to intervene with the woman in the car. I gave him to Pam who was on the dock and I returned to the car.

 "Did you take something?" I asked her. "Yes" she whispered. "What did you take?" She pointed to her backpack on the passenger seat and whispered, "It's in there." A very faint whisper is all  the strength she had to communicate. Up to this point it had only been a few minutes since we arrived on the scene. I immediately shouted at Pam asking if she had her phone. I didn't have mine. She said she did, indeed, have her phone (thank God!). I told her to call 911 because the woman was overdosing.

There was only one pill bottle visible from the driver's side of the car. I picked it up and looked at it but it was a prescription for something else, it was not a narcotic. Something wasn't adding up. "What's your name?" I asked her. "Amber" she whispered. By this point she was fading in and out of consciousness. She would answer so quietly that I eventually had to put my ear to her mouth in order to hear her. 

Meanwhile, Pam was on the phone with 911. She was relaying questions from the operator (is that what we still call them?). After answering a few questions, I became agitated and yelled, "Just tell them to get here now!" She said that they were on the way but it would be a while. The park we were in was pretty remote. It took authorities about twenty minutes to arrive. It was the longest twenty minutes of our lives!

While waiting for paramedics to arrive I continued to talk with Amber. She was drifting in and out of consciousness. I felt for a pulse but couldn't find one. Obviously her heart hadn't stopped beating because she was communicating with me, but I wanted to check in case I had to intervene with CPR. At this point Pam started walking up the road we had come from in order to direct paramedics to the scene while she was still on the phone with 911.

Amber, I learned, was a forty-two year-old Air Force vet. I picked up the note and asked her who the people were that were on her suicide note. The attempt here was to keep her conscious. However, she would repeatedly drift off. At that point I would put my hand on her chest and give her an "awakening" by gently rubbing it. I did this for about the last ten minutes before paramedics arrived. I would rub her chest and tell her "stay with me!" At one point I asked (because it was unclear if she would survive) if she knew Jesus as her Lord and Savior. Faintly she whispered "yes." It was the only relief of the entire episode.

The police arrived first, followed shortly after by paramedics. I was still leaned in the car trying to keep Amber awake. I told them that she said she had taken some drugs and showed them the bottle that I found. It still didn't make sense that she overdosed on what was in that bottle (I don't remember the medication, but again, it was not a narcotic). As the paramedics were working with Amber, the police retrieved the backpack from the passenger seat and opened it on the hood of her car. 

The backpack was overflowing with orange pill bottles. Most of them were not her prescriptions we learned. There were narcotics inside. There is no telling what pills she took since there were so many bottles. Paramedics put that thing on her finger that takes pulse and heartrate. Nothing registered. They decided that, since we were so remote, they would fly her out via helicopter. They loaded her into the ambulance and went to the area where the helicopter would land. That is the last time we saw Amber. 

As of this writing I still don't know if Amber made it or not. I left a voicemail for the Ranger who was on the scene that day and who was very understanding and sympathetic to our experience in her park. I emailed her as well and have not received a response. I wish I had an update to give but I don't. I will keep trying to reach the Ranger and I will hopefully have an update in the future. The Ranger asked both Pam and I to write an account of what happened. She asked that each of us do so since we both had a different experience. The Ranger came by the next day to collect our writings and offered her services to us if we needed. 

In my line of work I have been witness to suicide attempts before. It is never something that you "get used to." It was an incredibly sad day for us both (not to mention Amber!). It is humbling when God puts you in a place where He needs us to be His hands and feet. There were several options for trails to hike that day, but we chose this path instead. I don't believe in coincidences. God put us there, in that parking lot, that day. It is not coincidence that I am a licensed alcohol and drug counselor and we had come upon on overdose suicide attempt. That was God orchestrating. We were meant to be there. Who knows, maybe this whole experience of traveling the country was for this one sole incident.

We lived in Florida for eight years while I attended seminary. That part of our lives was truly a blessing. However, I am uncertain about the various reasons why we were sent to Florida other than seminary. Sometimes there seems to be something more important than what looks to be apparent. Did you read the blog I wrote about Matthew? Clearly, the most important reason why we were led to Florida was for Matt. He accepted Jesus as his Lord and Savior and was baptized. God used me those days for His purpose, and Amber's story is no different. Perhaps this entire trip around the United States was solely meant for us to be in the parking lot that day to help Amber. Maybe there is more work in our future, but I can say, without a doubt, that we were meant to be there with Amber that cold winter evening.

One of the things I told Amber that day was that whatever pain she was feeling was temporary. It will not last forever and she will be happy again one day. Suicide rates in America have risen dramatically in the last twenty years or so. We have experienced first-hand the impact of suicide and it is absolutely a miserable experience. The people it affects changes them forever. We are not the same after someone we love has passed far too early. If you or someone you know is struggling with depression, the Suicide Prevention Lifeline number is 800-273 TALK (8255). Or, if you are struggling with addiction and want help please feel free to contact me. I would rather listen to your problems than go to your funeral. Blessings to you all.