Our Last Kiss
I raced back inside. While I’d been outside, Oli had the presence of mind to call an ambulance on his phone. He got through and they started talking with him as I returned to Suse. There she was: my dear precious wife, the love of my life, laying motionless and distorted on the floor, colour now draining from her beautiful face.
“She’s going blue Dad!” Oli cried.
I figured there was nothing else to do but try to get oxygen into her, so I started administering CPR. Two or three big deep breaths into her lungs. And then chest pumping. Deep. Rhythmic. Once per second. A hint of colour returned to her face, and with it some hope.
By this stage, people I’d never met before – neighbours – started filing into our house. One man from a couple of doors down stood by me, willing me on. I didn’t need the encouragement, but I was glad for it and very glad for his presence. I kept at it. Her lips on mine. Her heart literally in my hands. If only it was that romantic. This was not the last kiss I wanted with Suse, but it’s the one I got. In that moment I was just a man loving his wife with all I had. And I was doing my best. Can love demand anything more?
Sadly, it was not enough. I kept going for about 10 minutes or so. Blood started coming out her nose. With every pump of her chest, a fresh stream would flow. The white tiles of our home were being painted with her ebbing life. Another neighbour turned up and again encouraged me in my efforts.
The sirens sounded. Getting closer. And before long a team of paramedics was rushing into our house. I stepped away and let them take over. Adrenalin surged through my body. I could make no sense of what was eventuating before me. My entire existence seemed to be collapsing into a sea of darkness. I started pleading with God to work a miracle. I know he could have. But he didn’t. And that’s ok.
A woman from across the street – again, someone I’d never met before – grabbed me and prayed for Susie. She later introduced herself. Her husband was outside looking after Oli, who had left the house by that stage.
I ventured back in to see the paramedics frantically working on her. They’d fixed an apparatus to her chest to keep the compressions up. They tried to defibrillate her several times, all to no avail. After 30 minutes or so, they moved her to an ambulance and rushed her to Royal North Shore hospital. I travelled there in a different one. For over 21 years we’d journeyed life together (inseparably some have said). But now our separation had begun.
