En sikker No-show

Just another normal day on work. Or so I thought.

I look at the watch; still six hours remaining before I am free from work. We are just boarding the ship and I can see the people run up the stairs. Most people run all the way on the top to deck eleven; just then they realize that their cabin is on deck five. Everyone tries to get to the top even though they belong in the middle.
I look at the people rushing by, just waiting for the first person to come and complain that he didn’t got his vouchers (just to realize that he is standing with them in his hands), that they didn’t order a cabin with bunk beds, just to show them what they paid for is what they got. In my thoughts, ready to “war”, my colleague stops my mindflow and ask “what is wrong over there?”, he points towards a group of people standing 15 meters from us. I can see that a person is laying on the floor and suddenly I see the placeaur (giving the seats in the restaurants) runs over to them. I tell my colleague “TO DO SOMETHING” and then I run over to the group.

There is an old man laying on the floor, people screaming around me – my thoughts goes “another person slipped on the stairs, another epileptic person, another diabetes patient”. Five people, including me, try to get his clothes, backpack and money belt off, of course we didn’t manage to get anything off him. The other people try to pull him on the side because he has to get some air to breath, I tell them to “STOP!” and I push one of them away. At the same time two other crewmembers from the shop arrives and they start to take all the curious people away – this is Baywatch live – and I ask one of the crew to help me (Jon, a young Norwegian man). I put my head down to the old mans mouth, put my hands on his chest and look down the body. NOTHING. Nothing….fucking nothing. People scream that I shall take his pulse, he is pretty big, but I fumble around trying to take his pulse…still nothing.

“Okay Jon, do you want to blow or press?”, he knows what I mean and start to feel for his chest for the right spot. I tell him that we do “10-2”, even though I know, I KNOW that the normal thing would be “30-2” if you are alone to do it or “15-2” if you are two people. The former number being the amount of times you have to press his chest 5-6 cm. down, the latter being the blows in the mouth or nose.
I have done this plenty of times; however this is the first time I do it on a person with an “identity”. Normally the dolls don’t have arms or less, it is just rubber. It is very clean. This time it is a big, old man with a big bear. With arms and legs, with backpack and money belt.
Randi, the placeaur tells us to look for any papers that show if he has a disease. How could I forget that? It is one of the first things you have to do. While we prepare for CPR, Randi looks for papers. We find his passport. Now he is just another old man, now he is Viggo Sørensen, born in 1931.

I pull his head a bit back, blow two times, Jon starts to press, while I try to count. 1-2-3-4-5-6-7, “okay, I’ll blow again”. Two blows. I dunno if I do it the right way. Jon press again, 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10, two blow, I tell Jon to press harder (I have always been told that you have to press harder than you think), I ask the people around me if they can see anything when I blow in the mouth. They say yes.
Jon press again, I blow – suddenly Viggo starts to make a long deep breath in. I get surprised/happy, Jon and I tries to put him in the recovery position. I try to feel for any pulse or any breathing. Nothing.
Once again, 1-2-3-4-5-6, “okay, stop 2 blows” I say, once again Viggo breaths a lot of air in. We stop. Wait. Feel, listen, touch. Nothing. We slap him, screams that he is “doing good, come back, come back”, okay, back again. Jon goes 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10, I pull his head even further back. Check his throat for free airways (way too late). I blow one more time and then I get, what my father later called, the death kiss. Some green slime/vomit comes up from him and I get a bit in my mouth. We empty his mouth. Feels again. Nothing, why nothing. Why? In Baywatch they work for 2 min. and everything is fine, MacGyver walks away and tell the people “Don’t thank me, thank the knife”.

I clean his mouth, try to go down again, but I can’t. I feel like vomiting when I see all the green slime around his mouth. I take Viggos cap, cleans his mouth with it, try to blow again. Then I see that the restaurant supervisor is coming to help and he has a big orange box with him. The first aid bag from The Bridge. He opens the bag and is just trying to figure out how it all the works when a passenger comes in and says: “I am a doctor”.
I move away, let the professionals work. I go over to the reception again, my hands are shaking, the adrenalin is pumping around in my whole body. We try to call for an ambulance, but of course our satellite phone doesn’t work. We get in contact with the terminal, tells them to order an ambulance. I walk over to Viggo again. The first thing I hear is the doctor saying: “…just for information, it is 15:50”. This is the time of his death. It has all taken 20 minutes exactly. I haven’t felt that, I actually haven’t felt anything else than Viggo, Jon and myself “working” together. I feel I have been in a bubble. I look up on the deck above me; people are standing and looking down at me. I want to scream to them that they should “FUCK OFF”. The find a white cover to pull over Viggo.

The ticket office in the terminal calls again, “hello Mads, we need a name, age and what is wrong with him before we can send an ambulance”, I tell them in a cold voice “too late….”
I walk over to the body again (now it is just a body), we find a stretcher and carries him down to the hospital.

I go back to the Guest Service Centre and start to help people. “Excuse sir, where is the Seven Seas Resturant”, “Right in there – next please”, “I got this horrible cabin, could you upgrade me?”, “yes, but it will cost 200 kr. Extra for a cabin with window”, “what, I have to pay? I travel with you so much, can’t you give it to me for free?” “No, sorry”. After around 5 min. a Norwegian elderly man comes up to me and starts complaining about the size of his cabin is not what he paid for, I get a bit pissed at him and he starts screaming at me. I just remember that my hands are shaking and I wonder how people can care about so small things right now…of course they didn’t know Viggo.

We are 30 min. delayed that day. The ambulance tells us that they don’t drive with people who are already dead, the police has to interview the involved and we have to wait for a car that will take him away (or else we would have to take him to Denmark).

I go back to the GSC, my boss is there, and he asks me if I am okay? And answer “yes” and make a couple of morbid jokes about dead people. Then he says “vi har da en sicker no-show”. I can only smile. Sit down, and then start to do the “no-show” list that we do everyday to see who is onboard. Yes, he was right. We have one sure no-show.
I go out, speak over the PA system, wish people welcome onboard, hope that they will have a safe journey and then I go down to the cantina to get some food.
I can’t eat anything. Still have the taste of the death kiss…. I sit alone; no one else has heard the story yet. I try to eat a bit, but I can’t. My hands are shaking a bit less now.

In my cabin I call up my mother to ask her what “to do with the death kiss, is it dangerous”? I don’t really care if it is, I just have to talk with someone about it. My mother and father have both been in same kind of situation thousands of times before (as a nurse and policeman).

I go back to work after 20 min. again – it is not good for me to be alone. I walk by the shop to say thanks to Jon. I come back and my colleague apologizes that he panicked. I work until 21.30, then I am off from work and I come back to my cabin.

In my cabin I am normally very tired and fall asleep right way. I brush my teeth, wash my face, brush my teeth again. Go to bed. Try to fall asleep. Trying, trying more than ever.
I can’t help thinking.
Why didn’t I check his throat as the first thing?
Why didn’t I check for any signs of life for the “ten seconds” as the rule is?
Why didn’t I pull his head all the way back in the beginning?
Why didn’t we cut up his clothes so we could work better?
Why did it take 20 min. before the doctor showed up?
Why didn’t we do “15-2” or “30-2”?
Why didn’t he survive?
Why did he start to breath and then stopped again?
Why didn’t we use the first aid bag we have in the GSC?
Why did I do so many things wrong?
Could he have survived?



The next day we have a debriefing. All the involved people talk about what happened when what why. It is very good to talk with someone about it that was there and saw what we did. I am still very pissed at all the guests who thought it was a show, I am still very pissed that the ambulance didn’t want to come before they had a name, age, etc. The ships mate (just below the captain) tells us that the doctor had declared Viggo dead right when he came. Viggo had been hit by a “massive heart attack”…. No one could have saved him, not even the doctor. We did what we could do. We really did…. I couldn’t have done it better…I couldn’t. I keep telling myself we couldn’t have done anything better.

This was not just another normal day on the job. This was the day when I got my first (and hopefully) last death kiss.

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My father later told me that it is normal that “they” make the “breath in” sounds when you give “mouth-to-mouth”, and the vomiting is normal as well if the person press before I have moved my head. Viggo died immediately. He probably didn’t feel anything. Born in 1931, died in 2007 onboard Pearl of Scandinavia. R.I.P.