Heart Attack in the Career Lab

Yesterday at 10:30 in the morning, one of my adult students, 61, murmured that she was feeling nauseous.  Also, there was pain radiating down both her arms.  I asked if she might be having a heart attack. She has a background in health services, so I valued her opinion.

"Maybe," she said. "How's my color?"
"You look pretty pale," I said. "Gray, actually."

We quickly decided the best option was to call 911 and get her to a hospital as quickly as possible.
(This after another teacher in the next room vetoed my suggestion of bringing Ann via Lyft to the Emergency Room.  What was I thinking? New Yorkers think first of cabs, not ambulances.)

In less than 10 minutes, my room was overflowing with strong young emergency techs wielding iPads, aspirin, nitroglycerine, electrodes, a gurney......She was whisked down in the elevator and off to an unknown fate.  I made sure a large piece of paper with my cell phone number on it was in her purse.

Three hours later she called me from the hospital.

"I had a widowmaker! They reamed out 2 arteries, and put in 3 stents!"  She was laughing.
"But I could have died.  Thanks a lot."

I listened, shaking. She had called her brother in California, and she was arranging for her cats to be fed by a neighbor.  She'd be out of the hospital in 3 days. One of my favorite students, Ann is a cancer survivor with a dry sense of humor and a Master's degree who was in the last stages of applying for part-time work as a caretaker in a care facility for adults with intellectual challenges.  She was in the final stages of being approved for the job, and had an appointment to be fingerprinted in the afternoon.  I hoped to hell this incident didn't derail her chances.

Just another day at work.

Next up: helping the 16 year-old young woman who is 13 weeks pregnant and finishing her GED.
She needs a rudimentary Resume she can post to help her find babysitting or house cleaning jobs.  She's willing to work up to 9pm on weekdays and Saturdays and Sundays from 9am-7pm. Currently, she's living with a foster family and has a curfew.  She wants to go into nursing, to provide a good life for her baby.

America will be all right.  It's full of amazing people. They are keeping my spirit alive.
 I love my job.

Trumptime

The question burning in my brain: what are my responsibilities as a human being in the time of Trump?
I'm reviving my blog, Poodles On The Roof, to explore this question.