To the editor:
A call to heroism was answered by two extraordinary young people last September in Bergen County, N.J., a notorious place where partial-birth abortions are performed about 1,800 times a year.
A young man, David E. Houlihan, and his partner, Jazz Reiling, were paramedics. David was scheduled to be off that night and had made plans to spend the evening with his two small sons when the medical center called his home and asked him if he would help cover the night shift.
Most of the night calls were routine. A 5:40 a.m., that was about to change. A call came in that there was an unconscious pregnant woman. An ambulance had already arrived on the scene, and its crew was performing CPR. In David's words, "I felt a sense of terror that I had never before experienced in my 12 years as a paramedic. Upon entering the home, I found the horror of my career: a full-term pregnant woman." Her face was already ashen, and she was pulseless and not breathing. David and Jazz tore open their equipment and began advanced treatment and talked to a physician on the telephone. Resuscitation of a pregnant woman, they knew, was often futile, because the weight of the baby puts pressure on the aorta and other large blood vessels and prevents effective CPR.
Time was running out. The woman's heart would not respond, and the baby was surely suffocating. The time it would take to transport the woman to the nearest hospital would surely be a death sentence for both the mother and child. aThe mother has been cyanotic for about 12 minutes. David rose to the act of heroism for which he would risk his license. He updated the physician of the situation and asked permission to perform a cesarian section. The physician said go ahead.
In David's own words again: "I felt a sense of relief. We now had an option, but I was overcome with the peril in the face of having to perform the C-section. Then something took over over me, something surreal: control. I removed the 10-pound baby girl and went throught the usual post-delivery steps, but the baby was not responding. She was ashen and limp. I began delicately compressing her soft chest and blowing oxygen into her lungs." Jazz took the baby and wisked her away to a waiting ambulance. David later learned Jazz had revived the baby on the way to the hospital.
Although efforts continued to revive the mother, she never came back.
For the next three weeks, David's every thought and prayer was for the baby. He visited her often to be close to her in the hope that a visitor would give her a reason to wake up. After a time, though, the hope went away, and the baby went to be with her mother. "While she was here, she taught me the importance of life, courage and strength, and that doing what' right is not always easy, but we must not be afraid."
Both of the paramedics were removed from regular duty, although they were being hailed a heroes. They have been placed on desk duty pending further investigation.
I believe everybody is called to heroism during his or her life. Not everyon is called to extraordinary heroism as David was. Heroism comes in many forms: humility, patience, charity, sacrifice in our daily lives. We all struggle every day to be just a little kinder, a little more patient. My prayers are with David and Jazz in the hope that they will be vindicated. I know of one mother and child who will look after them from heaven.
CHRISTINE E. STEPHENS
Cape Girardeau
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