Help!
Guys, he’s over here. It looks bad! The dull roar of spring runoff rushing down
the rapids filled my ears as we rushed over to the yellow whitewater kayak. Our
friend Tim sat in the kayak’s cockpit at a funny angle, fully alert, but
complaining of back pain and numb feet. “What happened?” someone asked. “The
force of the water threw the boat up on shore,” Tim replied with a grimace. Suddenly,
everyone was talking at once. “How can we get him out and keep his spine
stable?” What if we move the kayak like this?” “Who’s going to grab his weight
centers?” “I’ve got his head,” assured Dan, as he took the lead position and
began directing the rescue.”
Four
people positioned themselves at Tim’s shoulders and hips, others stood nearby,
ready to help free his legs and boots from the molded foam foot and thigh
braces. I grabbed the bow of the kayak, ready to steady it and then pull it out
of the way. “Anyone not ready?” asked Dan. Alert silence. One, two, three, go.
With a fairly smooth movement, the rescuers removed Tim from the boat, I pulled
it out of the way and went to support his feet. Carefully, we levitated him a
few feet up the shore to flat patch of grass.
“Lowering
on three,” warned Dan from the head position. “Anyone not ready?” With a slow
movement, bending at our knees not our backs, we gently placed our patient on
the ground.
“Hey,
that was pretty good. Nice job team!” commended Tim while he sat up and brushed
off his pants.
Conversation
irrupted among the group of Wilderness First Responder (WFR) students as we
discussed the details of what worked and what didn’t during our simulation. By
now, halfway through the course, we were getting pretty comfortable with the
patient assessment system, and responding to (simulated) traumatic injuries,
even in awkward places.
All
week, this group of 21 students has been learning about risk assessment,
emergency care, and wilderness medicine. We’re here for a variety of reasons: some
students will be working for Voyageur Outward Bound or other outfitters leading
expeditions to the Boundary Waters; others are leading trips for a college outdoor
rec program; one woman from Chicago will be leading high school students on
service learning trips to Central America. I will be leading kids down the
Namekagon River, and adults to the Boundary Waters on public programs for the
Cable Natural History Museum.
One
thing we all have in common is a passion for adventurous travel, and a need to
keep ourselves and others safe while doing it. Could someone really have had a
kayak accident like the fake one we just responded to? Absolutely. Would just
the possibility of that unfortunate event keep any of us in the class out of
the water? It depends.
“Risk is a function of both probability and
consequence,” declares our textbook’s introductory chapter. Therefore, the best
way for us to stay safe is to avoid the combination of high probability and
high consequence risks. Any sort of outdoor activity requires good risk
assessment and risk management skills. By understanding what could go wrong,
and how serious different outcomes could be, we are becoming better at both
reducing the probability of risk, and reducing the consequences through good
patient care.
After
this drill, I might scout that rapid one more time before running it. If the
water was too high, or I was by myself, or I was in a remote location, I might
not run it. That situation has a high probability of huge consequences. After
doing simulated CPR on a classmate acting convincingly like she’s just been hit
by lightning, I might not watch a thunderstorm roll in on a rocky point. But if
someone else takes those risks and gets into trouble, as least I can respond
with the basic life support that gives them the best chance for survival.
Wilderness
medicine isn’t all about broken bones and serious accidents, though. Much of
our class has been about determining if an ailment is serious or not serious,
and making sure the minor things stay that way. The best way to cure a blister?
Don’t get one in the first place. The best way to deal with infection? Clean
even minor wounds well right from the beginning. The best way to prevent
injuries from a hasty and risky evacuation? Be able to tell that your patient’s
intestinal distress is just a little gas from dinner instead of appendicitis.
In
the end, accidents like the ones we simulate in class are pretty rare. I took
my first WFR course in 2001, and in the subsequent 13 years, the most I’ve used
my knowledge for is blister care and risk management. I’m at more risk for
injury while I’m getting to the wilderness in my car than while I’m actually
traveling by canoe in the back country.
What
if I didn’t go? What if I got scared about the “what ifs” of wilderness travel
and stayed home? I think that would create a high probability, high consequence
situation, too. The probability is 100% that I would be missing out on
life-affirming adventures in beautiful places that bring me deep personal
satisfaction. That’s not a risk I’m willing to take.
Once
again, Mary Oliver says it well: “Tell me, what else should I have done? Doesn't
everything die at last, and too soon? Tell me, what is it you plan to do with
your one wild and precious life?”
For over 45 years, the Cable Natural
History Museum has served to connect you to the Northwoods. Come visit us in
Cable, WI! The current exhibit, “Nature’s Superheroes—Adventures with
Adaptations,” opens in May 2014 and will remain open until March 2015.
Find us on the web at
www.cablemuseum.org to learn more about our exhibits and programs. Discover us
on Facebook, or at our blogspot,
http://cablemuseumnaturalconnections.blogspot.com
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