Recently, while visiting a local park, a woman with her dog asked if I was going across the bridge. I said I wasn’t sure. She said that two people were lying on it and weren’t responding when she called out to them. Their pickup truck had the door opened and it was clear to see a purse and cell phones inside. She had already called 911. It seemed an eternity, but in reality was probably only 10 minutes, when I called 911 also.

The center took my name, location, phone number and connected me with the Sheriff’s Office They arrived within three minutes of my call. The deputy called out to them. They didn’t respond. He spoke on his radio saying it was an overdose, asked for medical assistance, and administered Narcan. Within minutes, EMS crews from two towns arrived, along with volunteers traveling in their personal vehicles. More Sheriff personnel came. All told, there were probably 10 or more people on site.

It took a few minutes, but the woman was able to stand. The man could not move on his own and was wheeled out on a stretcher. They were questioned about what they took and the woman said they didn’t know. At first, she refused to go to the hospital until she was told she couldn’t drive. Reluctantly, she accompanied the man to the hospital, but not as a patient. 

EMS personnel explained to her that the effects of Narcan would wear off in 30 minutes and that the drug was still in her system. Unpredictable and violent behavior has been known to happen when Narcan wears off.

Contrast that with a 72-year old man with Type 1 diabetes. He’s had it since he was 13 years old. When he was young, he didn’t much care for his health, thinking that he was invincible. He got a wake-up call in his early 30s and has since done everything he can to be healthy and beat the associated illnesses and risks, like kidney failure, blindness, spinal deterioration, immobility, and more.

That same morning, within 30 minutes of the overdose scene, I found out he had had a stroke. He was going in for an out-patient procedure because a brain bleed was discovered when he had an MRI last week. We don’t know the extent of the damage and we’re all praying for him.

Is life so cheap that it can be snuffed out with an unknown narcotic for an elusive, momentary, artificial “high”? 

What drives people to treat their lives with such disregard? Did they think of the consequences to themselves and others? 

I wonder whether that couple had children. Who would pick them up from school today or be at home? If the other woman and I hadn’t been at the park this morning, those people would most likely be dead now.

Or is life so dear, and peace so sweet that you would do anything to hang on to it? 

That 72-year-old man struggled with addiction but got a glimpse of the mystery that was his life. He realized that it wasn’t his to waste and destroy. Because what happens to him affects more than just him. All of us who know, love, and care about and sometimes even despise him are affected.

The same is true for the man and woman on the bridge. They are someone’s daughter and son, maybe mother and father, or sister and brother. They are someone’s neighbors, co-workers, and friends. And all of those people are affected by the choices they made this morning.

Choices. Are the choices we make truly just for ourselves alone? No, they aren’t. In each of the above situations, there was a dedicated team of responders caring for the individuals equally regardless of how their medical emergency was precipitated. 

In the first situation, that man and woman are alive today because they live in a community that values human life, which did everything it could to save theirs, whether they wanted their lives saved or not. Time will tell whether the older man will survive his stroke, that was not of his choosing.

We live in a society that values personal choice and freedom. And we pay for that freedom monetarily, emotionally, psychologically, and sometimes with our lives. So, the next time you think the choice you’re about to make only affects you, think again. We are all affected by each other’s choices.

Kathleen Norton lives in Thomaston