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As soon as I see the show’s crew member digging in his pocket for his cell phone to call for emergency help, I spring into action. I’m so thankful for the CPR classes I took when my office offered them as an extra benefit. My reactions are automatic. I don’t even have to think about them. My only goal is saving this wonderful woman, who has been my grandmother-by-choice for most of my life.
As I’m singing the classic Bee Gee’s song “Stayin Alive” in my head to time the compressions and breaths, I’m vaguely aware of the others standing around and watching the horrific scene unfold. I hear Ruthie quietly sobbing in the background as Andrew attempts to comfort her.
I work tirelessly pumping the woman’s tiny chest and forcing life-sustaining breaths into her lungs through her mouth. It se
